It’s 14 mins to end of preps.
High school preps were tough for me because I am claustrophobic. Brayo, claustrophobia is when you hate your classmates. Kevin, classmates are those people who have always hated you. You, are still here?
Because our family suffers from a hereditary condition called ‘Nagana’ after my great grandfather Rapogi was bitten by the TseTse Fly, to keep awake I made due with reading the Atlas during preps. I use that knowledge to confuse the gender that got us kicked out of Eden. Have you ever been to Iceland? Or Ireland? Oh, I’m Ash btw. I’m visiting from Kiribati.
I despised Ethan, the male version of Karen who was busy doing actual reading. Like who does that? If prep was at 530AM, Ethan was there at 3AM. And he was always smart. Tie. White shirt. Black heart. I hope you’re happy with your six figure salary, 2 cars and 3 children. Enjoy your perfect life, Ethan!
Which reminds me, what was it with that guy who slept like a koala everyday. And he would snore. Funny thing is, he was always the guy asking for his Test It & Fix It. But immediately he made the announcement, like clockwork, Son Of Adam would pass out.
Don’t even get me started on that boy who was reading Eric Opingo and the debonair Pepe Minambo motivational books. BRO, reading motivation books without revising notes or writing mwakenya won’t help you pass?! Urm, God is still working on me.
Let’s call him Stephen, because that was his real name, reformed after reading “Beyond Your Comfort Zone.” How anga Eric Opingo walked 44 kilometres, DAILY, to go to school. Bruuuhh..
“It doesn’t matter WHERE you were born, all that matters is WHY you were born…hallelujah!..”
Ninja returned all the shirts he had ‘mistakenly’ picked ya form ones, and even joined the CU. Oh. But a tall demon is not a short angel. One week later, factory settings.
Where were we?
There was the rapper. Who insisted on shouting his smash hits. Offbeat kama heartbeat ya maiti. They used to go with fancy names like Mtu77, Gichboy & MtuPombe. These days, they are the rappers who take pics with their car doors open. All of them. Including the boot. I’m not jealous, you’re jealous.
And then there was the boy who would discuss football. Mara Drogba anga Ronaldo. He had all the latest results but he never knew what he scored in his last paper. His best friend was the drug kingpin. Anything illegal, this guy had it. Bhang. Acohoo. Condoms. By the time we were leaving high school, he was laying foundation for his mansion while we built castles in the air from his narcotics.
Our class monitor was a designer doing calligraphy on shirts. He graduated to a meme lord..
But the guy I admired the most was the chronic toilet goer. In our class this was Jomo. Every evening at exactly 830PM, he would strip down to a vest, roll his pants up, carry a roll of tissue and disappear for 30 minutes. When he came back, he had visibly lost weight. I swear.
Before I pen off (hehe, 2012 joke), do you remember the Buzz & Insyder magazine guy? Certified smuggler. Nowadays you’ll find them typing hide my id…