For one reason or the other I am studying engineering.One reason is that I purposely selected this course and the Joint Admission Board decided”You know what,she’s nerdy enough for it!” and so  they typed the letter.The other reason is what I am yet to find out because as far as I am concerned this is not my thing,in the thing of things.It is a bitter pill to swallow but then I do not have much of a choice.Well,dropping out seems viable, since all I have to do is not show up at school ( and at home).Yet that’s too cheap a choice for an ego like mine,what with the number of eligible dropouts that this country is going to have courtesy of the smoking education system.And I mean smoking in the literal sense of the word.I would not even drop out if that was an option that was given to me coated with honey.I am fascinated by engineering;the whole idea of a simple human brain coming up with such efficient systems borne of thought upon thought,principle upon principle …really gives me the chills.I marvel at science,the intricacies of it,the complexities of numbers and code and the  cascade of knowledge from tit bits to crazy-amazing human inventions.It makes me go “Whoaaaaa!” but love is too much a word for our relationship.We are not yet there,me and engineering.We flirt,we “kula kwa macho” and then everyone goes home.No strings rumored to be attached.Well,most of the times I am the one that goes home with the books,which is a sad turnout of events,but as all unyielding relationships go one party must suffer more.I am,quite acceptably,that one party.

Why acceptably?Why have I not changed courses to maybe linguistics or literature,something that befits my love for art and writing?…an honest answer is what I lack.However one thing is for sure,I will graduate if God grants me life and ability.I will hurdle through these two years through thick and thin  to finish what I started.So help me God.

Here’s how engineering and I get around each other:

Imagine yourself a man,if you are not one (yet);engineering is like that first wife that you were introduced to by your parents when both of you were young and unaware.It was never love at first sight but it was safe.She had been brought up in a Christian home,she was indeed untainted,as virgin as it can get ,and you know what they say about those ones…Your family and hers were friends so as a result you had the opportunity of assessing her culinary skills.Oh,she spinned ugali like a pro. Ugali so fine you could eat it by osmosis.The type of ugali that reminds you of orchestra music and ocean waves and orgasms.(I just threw in that last word to complete the “o” rhyme,you gotta believe me.Hehe).Anyway you marry her,three kids in and it hits you,holy shucks!You never really loved this woman.She cannot hum to a rumba song if her life depended on it and you realize you are not cut from the same fabric.One,two business meetings out there chasing paper and you notice that new blazing intern that is so right for you by all rules of the devil’s schemes.She gets you.She’s needy but at least she can hum to all the rumba songs you like.So you keep her but never commit,never mind you love her to the very core of existence.At the back of your mind you know you have a sorta loving wife at home who will always be there,always cook fine ugali for you,so you’d rather live a lie than die for the truth.You lead a parallel life,sometimes pangs of guilt gnaw but most of those times you act like you don’t care. You play numb and life goes on as it always has,as it must.Rut.

Now stop imagining.


Engineering is that first wife to me:good job,good title,good money…just good.Art,more so writing, is that blazing intern that drives me to the edge of crazy in so still a manner it is dizzying and dazzling at the same time.



All thanks to my first engineering attachment I am lying on a lodging bed as I type this.The room smells typical of all lodgings;private but public,clean but dirty. I am on the first floor of the building and right below is a bar with music blaring from the speakers at dangerous decibels and a few drunk fellows blaring even louder.If I close my eyes for a split second and concentrate really keenly,like in yoga,I can almost sniff the threads of sin in the air.It could be my messed up mind but the moment I walked into this room last night I figured all manner of sexual perversions that have been committed on this bed.As if that is not enough,my imaginative brain went further to specify the positions of “act”.Act makes it sound really schemed but believe me,most lodging shenanigans have schemes behind them alright.You do not just budge into a lodging with a woman at ten in the pm and expect on-lookers to believe you are going to have holy communion in there.Plus I found a small shredded part of Trust(the product,not the virtue)on the door handle thingy.You see those metallic doors that have a bulge-like door handle where you have to put your hand inside to unlock the lock?Yeah,that.I looked at it lying there abandoned and thought”Oh boy,seems like they left you here after getting their high…”

Then I walked in,set my luggage,took a quick shower and had myself a nice long rest.Don’t be fooled,I can sleep on a cactus like it is Maharajah mattress.

I cannot afford to have a negative attitude towards lodgings when I am in one right now.It is called accepting situations you have no control over because like those before,they pass.Who died from sleeping in a lodging anyway?Desires?We are  all condemned to those.How we act on them is what makes us cheap or not.Tomorrow morning I will look at that small shredded part of Trust at the door and say to it”I’m going out there to try get my high,kuwa true”.I will spare a second or two,just before I leave to go to site and try treating my first wife right(now that I am spending my night with the other woman).I might free it from its bondage of lying there abandoned.I might not.







  1. Hahaha Oh Please Maryanne, you didn’t have to leave me in tears of laughter!! I like your humour, I like how you make me get off my tension, and how you trust that I will not get you wrong, how you trust my judgement as I read through your work.

    Wait, Mahar……whatever… mattress, I have only seen those on Billboards. And you would be as comfortable as that on a cactus. I curse that lodging room!


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