Maseno’s ‘Block J’ Hostel Shenanigans

Those who go to the varsity on the equator will tell you that there is something peculiar about block J female hostel that no one can really put their finger on. Those who have never stayed there hate it; they say it’s too crowded and many other bad qualities. Those who reside here tell a different story altogether.

A story of good girls gone bad.

A screamingly noisy story; noise from them bad girls of block J. I do not know who goes around saying J normally runs out of water. It’s always a rainy day here. I am not sure what between alcohol and men rains more in this hostel. It’s surrounded by an underwhelming six male hostels. It’s like a sand dune in a desert; everyone is thirsting to have a taste of the water no matter how long the queue is. J stands for ‘jenerousity’, literally. J is for the smartest only; the dumb ones live to tell tales of the Kideros their ex from block F gave them when he found Tony from Kili hostel dipping his finger into their honey pot.

People who live in J do not throw stones- Joan next door is always trying to reach the big O every other minute. Distractions are not welcome here; if you need to borrow a plate open the door and pick one if you see it; just don’t try raising the sheet separating Mwende’s bed from others. Stuff happens behind those sheets; stuff those holy girls from Mak box should never see. There is no difference between night and day in J, every time is party time. Any kind of parties are welcome; a screamy ‘party’ is more welcome though.  Stuff is always happening in J- beds squeaking, loud dancehall music to disguise screams of gratitude, nylon noise here and there... Told you block J hosts smart people. Mwanaume ni kuvaa boots.

Block J is bad; bad as the bad gets. It hosts four girls per room but four is never a crowd in J. Sheila from C.U quietly reads her Bible and just as the Holy Spirit starts to descend upon her, another kind of spirit dawns upon Cindy on the lower deck. Roho mpata kitu. Meanwhile the bookworm next bed is busy doing Calculus as her decker- mate goofs around with her over- enthusiastic boyfriend. Yes, privacy is alien in J. Nothing is strange in J; if it is then you do not belong there. Shock on the wannabe bad girls from New Mak hostel who find themselves living in J. Forget about trying to exile three properly hardened ladies to pave way for you and your geek of a boyfie from Eq hostel. If we paid for the room we sleep in it too, do it in your roommates’ presence or make use of the T.V room after midnight, dummy!

Why are a majority of block J’s bad girls never pregnant?

Now that’s the difference between the bad girls of New Mak and those of J. New Mak bad girls proudly walk around heavy with child while J reels of horror stories about fetuses being found thrown in dust bins. J bad girls know the best brands of e- pills and abortion pills in the market. They also have contacts of a certain well known reproductive health clinic that comes in handy should they have ‘safe’ murder in mind. They are never really in relationships but they know who has game and whose boxer has holes in it. They have male friends; many male friends. In J you are either good or bad, lukewarm does not exist here.

J may be farthest from lecture halls but that does not mean they miss classes. Do not forget that they are smart ladies. They love attention and are school sirens. They have also tried for the longest time to un- hoist IDP hostel ladies from the fashionista pedestal to no avail. They dress to impress and class is where they get to flaunt what their mamas gave or didn’t give them. The difference between J and IDP ladies is that the latter are way too classy but to the former, less is more when it comes to dressing themselves. Siriba road is always a cocktail of fashion gurus and ‘supermodels’, all thanks to the queens from J. Ever noticed girls who wear elaborate make- up, do slightly bigger weaves than those of IDP lasses and are loudest in class? Google block J.

Alcohol and J ladies are sworn frienemies. You will always find drunk guys violently knocking on the doors begging a certain Sue or Mumbi to open for them. Meanwhile their so called girlfriends Sue and Mumbi will be busy entertaining some mafisis from Kili hostel. J girls are also popular in joints around school and well, the flashy ones in Kisumu. They always know where the party is at and will gate-crush any event where free alcohol is flowing. They drink like sailors and for them gobbling down several bottles of Guinness is as easy as it looks. You do not want to take out a J lady for drinks. Utabaki umesota mtu wangu. By the time you are done begging your boys back at school to MPESA you a small mchango for fare back, she’ll be in the club’s VIP lounge drowning Jameson bottles with men old enough to be her grandfathers.

Block J is for the industrious lady. She has no time to fancy- up her room but you will find her plaiting hair or blow- drying her loaded sisters from IDP and Institute hostels for a good fee of course. Her roommate will have a photocopying business going on while the others will be seen going hostel- to- hostel selling jewelry and clothes. They are always on the grind and work as hard as they party. Their hustle is always what lands them in J. They open school way too late and find all the other ‘good’ hostels taken up and that is how they find themselves here. Some will have delayed while fooling around at their ‘working class’ boyfriend’s place while others will still be doing their part- time jobs by the time school opens. Some simply have no idea that school has resumed and only appear when they see their friends updating on Fb about an upcoming C.A.T. The good girls who find themselves in J are those who delayed paying school fees and had no other option by the time they paid up. Together they all peacefully reside in J.

What happens in J stays in J. That is the sisterhood code for this hostel. You only exchange a knowing smile with your former J roommate when you meet on the streets and you remember sneaking up on her and their ‘friends’ in the heat of a three- some in the room. You are not allowed to warn Stevo your classmate that the lady he is writing poems for and spending his HELB money on was a sexthlete when she was your J roommate back then. Notice there is no mention of sluts, gold diggers or prostitutes here: refer to their industriousness and their liking for quick fun in case of any doubts. The ‘badness’ of block J is purely circumstantial; that is what happens when you surround a female hostel with several male hostels. Transfer them to the vichakas of Siriba and you will have praise and worship leaders being unearthed!

I hear the tales emanating from block E since its conversion to a female hostel dwarf what J ladies are made of. I do not know about that but the last time I visited a friend there, it turned out that block E is the best vantage point to drool at hundreds of hot guys walking in and out of adjacent male hostels. If the kind of comments the ladies were making as they gawked at the guys is anything to go by however, I might be returning here with tales from block E that only the devil will be proud of! 

Meet ‘The Real Housewives of Campus’

When I joined campus one thing was clear to me: I had joined a community where the ‘finest women’ in terms of class and breeding are made and I had to remember my manners all the time. My cousin Harriet (rip) gave me ‘the talk’ the night before and among other things she warned me never to do household chores for my boyfriend and to always insist on cds if I ever ummm… You can therefore imagine my utter disappointment when my high hopes were dashed upon realizing that campus is in fact a breeding ground for ‘real housewives’ albeit without the pampering and glitz of their USA counterparts. They are of two types: the ones with college boyfriends and those with ‘working class’ boyfriends.

Their version of a weekend at their boyfriend’s…

Friday: Poor Vee is single (and broke) and is not looking forward to the long boring weekend at school. On the other hand is the hyper roommate- the sort you secretly wish to be like when you are done being a freshman. She always has something going on in her life; if not a house party at some uptown estate she will be clubbing with her friends. She has the elusive ‘working class’ man for a boyfriend and Friday mornings will constitute her bragging to everyone about how she is going to have a good time at the boyfriend’s. There is shopping mentioned somewhere in between a lavish dinner and drinks at ‘that hotel’ in town.

What really goes on…

My high school Headmistress had made it her business to remind us that ‘marriage is not a career’; to the real house wives of campus however, this is full time business. They abandon their assignments and skive their Friday classes to hop onto the next economy class bus to their boyfriend’s place. Reliable sources indicate that the weekend kicks off by doing their bf’s month- long laundry before ironing them like proper housewives! Next will be doing a sink full of dishes (yaaaawn!) before thoroughly scrubbing the equally dirty house. Did I mention being sex- slaved somewhere?! Someone take me to Atlanta or L.A already!

Meanwhile, back at campus…

I totally love my nails and anything that damages them is an enemy. I am staring at my laundry in between watching endless movies and wondering why miracles no longer happen. I could clearly do with a campus boyfriend who could volunteer to do my laundry on such days! Bad idea; on my way to a male hostel to get more movies I encounter not one but an entire population of ladies doing laundry at the male hostel clothe lines! Surely if this is the description of love some of us will die single. Where do people get the energy to go washing boxers and things like that for their boyfriends? We are all in campus and have got work to do so how exactly does doing house chores for a boyfriend fit in? It does not end there; I hear the more discreet real housewives of campus carry their boyfriends’ laundry to wash at their places to save face. Afterwards they go buy food (and alcohol) for their boyfriends using their own money! Did I mention being sex- slaved again?! Damn!

To this day I know clearly that no man deserves such exclusive services from a woman unless they are in a marriage (and she is comfortable doing all that) or she is getting paid to do it! The last time I was in a relationship all I did was prop my legs on the sofa while drinking tea and nagging him about how long he was taking to do our combined laundry! Now that is more like a ‘real housewife of campus’, those doing donkey work are fakes! Being an ‘educated housewife’ should come with perks, alar! Cheers to all single ladies who will be watching SATC alone this Valentine’s weekend; do not be fooled- the ‘romantic dinner and flowers’ tales we will be hearing come Monday will all be hoaxes! Thank God we won’t be nursing any broken nails and backs!