MUSO elections are underway and excitements are building up. Aspirants have hit their campaigns on the ground, trying hard to gain competitive advantage over their rivals. Unique methodologies are being employed as a show of distinctiveness in the aspirants’ way of operation. All this is done with the sole aim of attracting publicity. This is the time aspirants eyes are focused on one goal, clinching the docket. They are therefore ready to use any form of technique at their disposal provided it guarantees them the attention of their potential supporters.

It is a good idea for any individual to try their luck in this election. Most political careers are developed from these practices with the recent icon being Dikembe Disembe,a former student of Moi University who was also the Secretary General in the 27th SGC. However, the process of wooing votes should be conducted with lot of decorum so as not to disrupt the peace of their audience. One has the right to freedom of expression but you have no right to infringe anyone’s right to privacy.

Some unorthodox methods used are certainly bound to backfire on the side of the candidate. You obviously do not expect to win my support after your campaigners, some who are merely goons, keep disrupting my peace from their deafening vuvuzelas and chants while running along the corridors banging our doors late in the night. These rowdy behaviors portray the negative picture of the candidate as they are assumed to reflect the aspirants’ perspective on handling serious issues

On the social media platforms, the story is the same. It is all politics. Facebook pages currently are neither informative nor interactive as expected. Names of preferred aspirants for a particular docket are being painted boldly all over the Facebook pages. THE REAL COMRADES’ page is currently a billboard that accommodates all sorts of political non-sense. Political temperatures are rising. Tribalism is eminent from the words of abuse being exchanged.

 Let’s put it this way, what if you conduct your campaigns in between the given time frame? In case you want to attract audience at night, what if you mobilize comrades for a meeting in one of the common rooms in the hostels instead of wasting so much time and energy moving from one room to another? What if you direct your goons to preserve their vuvuzelas for the cross fires? And if you wish to use the social media platforms, why not use your own account or create your X for the docket of Y page? Think about it.

Mabatini- A Haven of Beauty Trends

Every market has a different name but the activities that take place inside are always the same. Welcome to Mabatini – a haven of beauty trends that delineates Moi University’s divas, dudes and their fashion trends. A unique ‘village market’, a home to the most peculiar habits that stands out alone, never to be beaten by friends or foes alike.

Mabatini Saturdays is a busy colonnade. Second hand clads, vegetables, Fish, Fruits, Shoes, name it, are sold at an accommodative price depending on your bargaining powers. It’s only in Mabz that you can still choose to idle around, fit in the second hand clothes and still get away with an excuse that the colours almost represent Ruto’s URP colours. The yellow colour that defines my origin, the colour of a bright future that won’t fade any soon.

In this market, mad men are welcomed and they offer much entertainment to the onlookers, the most sober individuals are mistrusted to be having some malicious intentions. In this market, you need to be a mchizi ki-design, gestures are exchanged and the most daring dudes in this great University overlook the idea of getting a first year babe. They go for that villager, she is not only naïve but she has mastered the art of loving a campus dude without measure and unconditionally, she will not only blush but she won’t dare look at you straight to your eyes. She does not have much time to explain how she feels when you call her honey and she will bow down to your judgement without arguments. She believes that simplicity is divine and she won’t turn down your idea of buying her a cup of coffee in the Mabati hotels. She will take you to her mother; feeling delighted to get a campus dude and with no doubt you will walk back to campus with at least half bag of maize, and some Mursik in a container.

In Mabz, no one is above the other, there are no laws set to be broken or adhered to, and there is no class or showbiz. Everyone appreciates his level of simplicity, after all life is an acceptance of reality. You don’t need to go shop in town, you better save that fare and get yourself a nice fitting Shirt or for your stomachs’ sake, buy some ‘omena’ that will last a whole week.

Mabatini Saturdays presents comrades with a mixed sense of rural and city life. You can only choose to fit wherever your heart desires. There’s no Dad or Mum to see the length of that Skirt your inner self is seducing you to try fit inside, it’s the seller that uses the seductive language, to ensure you buy that nice Mini skirt and save the long Skirts for long holidays at home.

How i wish that one day the Administration will think of coming up with a master plan of upgrading the market to Mabatini City, by this, we will also have joined the league of competence with Kenyatta University and their vision of KU City.


If you do not like something change it. Change the way you think about it. We cannot have change without change. I can see, I can see it, I can see it coming not in the far future. This is my call – change – to the forthcoming SGC and the comrades who will bestow them the power to serve in those offices. 

Foremost, to the comrades who cast votes, it’s my greatest desire that you carry this democratic right with a lot of caution while maintaining high integrity. Secondly, to those comrades who fail to vote remember that the ‘Bad’ leaders are sent to power by

the ‘good’ people who fail to vote.  What’s more, the other comrades who are always in complain of poor leadership remember the vote is the most powerful instrument ever devised by man for breaking down injustice and the terrible walls which imprison the common man – comrades. Another thing comrades need to know, let us vote for what one is going to do and not individuality as had been witnessed before. Let us not vote one because of his oratory skills! Always vote for principles and those showing potential of good leadership so that we may cherish the sweetest reflections that our votes are never lost.

To those who are aspiring to be in the forth coming election, it is time you start sharpening your skills and put right your principles of good leadership, character and integrity. A have a good difficult task before you to win our votes. It high time that you begin to think catchy campaign slogans unlike those we are used to “vote for me” on a poster and hang it above the drinking fountains and wash rooms for it won’t work out for you this time. Be prepared to respond to the following questions in your manifestos.

  • Why did you choose to run?
  • What would you do differently if you are elected?
  • How will you make a good chairman, Secretary General (or any other post) if elected?

My advice to you, don’t risk coming with unrealistic promises such as;

“if you vote me the director of academics, I will reduce homework and ensure all Fridays’ classes are eliminated so that your weekends starts on Thursday evenings.”

Aspirants Present Their Nomination Papers

Aspirants on Tuesday returned their nomination papers for consideration and approval by the Dean and Student Electoral Commission. The names of aspirants who are eligible to vie were expected to be released yesterday, Wednesday 13th 2014. Constitutionally, aspiring candidates are supposed to seek nominations from the student fraternity, at least 20% for aspirants in the dockets of Chairperson, Secretary General and Finance; seek approval from school accountants, examination departments and University security officer. Contrary to earlier allegations that one of the aspirants in the docket of Security and accommodation, Justus Aziz, would not seek approval from the security department, it has come out that he has been declared eligible to vie and his fate now lies with the SEC.

Aspirants from the school of Business and Economics have also complained on the time duration they had been given to be nominated. Speaking to a group of students an aspirant in the docket of finance, complained, “I only had yesterday (Monday) to collect the signatures. It has not been easy doing it and I feel it is unfair for us from the School of Business. The University should work on modalities to accommodate us, and maybe provide our fare to and from Main campus every time we come to campaign here”.

It is believed the university is yet to put up modalities to cater for them when official campaign commences and on the day of election.


Originally posted on john-simiyu:

Moi university main campus students today morning protested to what was alleged to be impending long holiday. One of the press publication stunned students who are hardly two month on campus after a spell of more than seven months away on long holiday. Student lamented on the tendency of university having them shorter learning time compared to time away from varsity. They vowed not to go to long holiday and demanded that the VC should address them himself and not through anyone else.

Attempts from students, who were believed to be politically affiliated, to calm down the protesting crowd bore no fruits.

View original

No long vacation for third years

Friday’s public lecture a new turn and twist when DVC prof. Nathan Ongech took to the dais to clarify some issues that have always remained unsettled in the minds of comrades. Providing more answers to the question that have been lingering in the student minds. He confirmed that 3rd years we not go home for another long vacation after this semester. This comes at a time when it has been rumors that the 3rd years were to go home for another long vacation, which led to rampage paralyzing activities within the campus for day.

Reacting to this issue during a public talk DVC took swift with some of the MUSO aspirants castigating the manner in which they were misleading students. He later advised students to adopt peaceful ways of solving problems rather than engaging in uncalled demonstrations. The assurance will put to rest the panic among comrades they will be conferred their respective courses.

Comrades now have something to smile about, the DVC also confirmed that the university has a smooth running academic calendar the third years are here to stay and my only break for attachment after their successful completion of their 3rd year. He further explained that there was no decision made since the senate had not yet met.

He directed students to treat such hearsays with a lot of contempt. He requested all the comrades to maintain peace at this time of the semester as they wait the senate to meet in order to decide on their fate.


Adopted from INFORMER [A MUESA publication]

last week third year demonstration

last week third years demonstration


A male student from The University of Nairobi was early this week arrested by police over allegations that he raped a sophomore female student.

This sparked rage among the female students leadership which was up against this incident.

The girl was said to have been forcefully pushed into one of the rooms at the institution and where she was sexually abused .

The students insisted that if the issue will not be properly addressed, then nothing will prevent such cases from being rampant.

This comes a week after a first year student in Jomo Kenyatta University of Agriculture and Technology was charged in court for killing his girlfriend.

With all the unfolding incidences in our campuses, it raises the public eyebrows of what exactly happens in our campuses.

The incidences are painting public Universities as a hub for immorality and heinous activities.


So this friend of mine loves frequenting the library, not for the books but for the free Wi-Fi. He is so addicted to the Internet that he cannot leave that building unless he is literally forced out of the building. What better way to kick him out than the dear  bell that goes off at 9.30pm every weekday of the semester?

Maybe you have been present when that bell rings inside the Margaret Thatcher Library. Maybe it annoys the hell out of you. But for my dear friend, he claims that immediately that bell goes off, everything he was doing evaporates from his head. Say, he was studying for a CAT at that moment and was just about to finish, it all evaporates. He just walked into my room, looking helpless and worn out from his experience with the library bell. Poor guy!

Maybe the library should rethink the whole bell thing. I am pretty sure it is meant to be a fire alarm. It is not even helping some people get out of the building. Believe it or not, the other day a friend of mine was locked in that big building for the night! I don’t know how you can sleep through that annoying bell, but he did. Apparently he decided to catch forty winks and hoped the bell would wake her up. The next thing he knew, he was alone and could do nothing but wait till morning.

What would you do? Run and scream like a crazy person until someone outside hears you? I know what my dear Internet addict would do, surf like crazy and thank God he has all the ban




‘I died that day; it’s only that I wasn’t buried. He didn’t simply take away my home; he took away my well-being, my peace and my capability to love any other man. After he showed me the door, I knew my life had not hit the rocks; it had hit the boulders. I gathered my things and left with my four children’.
She says this with a broken smile plastered on her face. Her profound love is the most alluring, not once did she mention herself without pointing out her offspring. Her strength is so overwhelming yet she takes it casually. I stare blankly pondering on the events that brought her world to a standstill.
‘I got to learn about my HIV status a few years before my husband kicked me out. Contracting HIV from the one you love is the worst case scenario but this disease tightened our bond. Life was hard; we had very limited resources but having each other made it easier. It was better to face a milestone with him than alone. We reminded each other of taking medication and watched each other’s diet. He was a husband back then, my very own warrior but something changed him; something dark overcame him’.
She looks down and barely looks up from this point on. The emotional turmoil that she had gone through was too much to bear. The agony of keeping her health in check was her biggest challenge. The grave was her alternative. The thought of her babies being orphans is what kept her alive. She no longer lived for herself, she lived for her children.
‘My children are my driving force; they give me a reason to wake up and work day after day. I would probably be dead if it wasn’t for them. Its more than mere love. A mother is a bear and her children are her cubs. Washing people’s clothes is my main source of income though I run various businesses. I have my mind on my money and my heart with my children as I wash stranger’s undergarments. She giggles. I have been washing clothes for over 7 years; it is my only option for survival’.
‘Laundering has helped me feed my children, give them education, medicate myself and put clothes on our backs. What’s life without a little challenge? I like to think of myself as Job from the Bible, he was a strong man and I esteem him. If I were to meet him, I think we would understand each other in a way only God would identify with. Though what I have gone through is meagre compared to his experience’.
She sips her cup of tea and takes a long pause before carrying on. Her tear stained face, her frail hands, her eyes attest to her painful past. Her voice breaks when she continues to talk about her husband.
‘When people say that love is blind, they have no idea what that truly means. My husband was the treacherous type. Look for infidelity and you would find it next to him. Waswahili say “mwanaume ni wako akiwa nyumbani, akishatoka ni wa wenyewe (a man is yours only when he is in your house, when he leaves he belongs to other women) and I learned to accept that the hard way. I knew that he was my highway to death but I stuck with him, I was flimsy back then. I know it wasn’t shrewd but I would forever love him till death kills me first. One can never control the heart. He was my devil’. She finishes with a subtle voice.
‘The worst part of infidelity is what comes with it; battery. Men detest confrontations to the letter. I can’t remember how many times my face and his fist met or had something thrown at me whenever I asked of his whereabouts. Waking up in the morning with a sore back was part of my ritual, pretending to be Muslim so that I could conceal my face was the norm and still everybody knew. I think I was hiding from myself and not from the world. What I do recall are my neighbours pointing fingers and ridiculing me for my idiocy. They wouldn’t comprehend my reasons for staying with a beast under the same roof. And I didn’t anticipate for their approval or understanding. I did it all for my children. Wouldn’t you?’ I nod in agreement as I close my eyes to prevent tears from falling.
‘He would come home drunk late at night and wake me up with a whip on the back, asking for food. He hated that I would feed the children and not put him in the equation. Most times he left fifty shillings for breakfast, lunch and supper to feed six people which was hardly enough for one meal. Other times he would leave more than that but I would still deny him food. You may think am vindictive but that man damaged me from the inside. The only reason he kept me alive was because he didn’t want to be responsible for our children. I do not abhor him but he is undeniably not on my list of favourite people’. Her quest for vengeance was swallowed up when her responsibilities amplified. She left God to deal with him accordingly for He knew the baggage she had inside.
‘From time to time I stare at the mirror just to recollect the past. It serves as my incentive, my only way to a brighter future. My first two children, I got them out of wedlock; something I don’t take pride in but they are my best mistakes for I love them more than anything. My husband never really loved them; he constantly referred to them as outcasts or machokoraa (street children), it hurt me to watch my very own children being mistreated and shunned. I would rather have him call me names, drag my name through mud and make me his punching bag but spare the children. The children suffer most during domestic violence, I remember them pleading with their father not to end my life. I just hope that they don’t inherit my resentment for the man or even worse; be like him’.
‘I never really got any education but God placed a good head on my shoulders. I made sure all my children got educated. All I want is for them to lead a better life than me, have the comforts that I never had. I would rather have them cry in that range rover than laugh on a bicycle’ she jokes. ‘My belief in education is just as strong as my belief in God and I am a very strong believer of Christ. Currently I have about 6 customers who I wash clothes for. My monthly income generates about 3000/= which may not be enough but is there such thing as enough money? I live in a one bedroom mabati house with my five children. I got my fifth child a couple of years after leaving my husband’. She wipes her tears as she leaves her final remarks.
‘My daughter, Maria who is now fourteen was defiled last year and she got pregnant as a result. I know she isn’t Albert Einstein and I don’t blame her for what happened but she doesn’t listen to me. If she did maybe she wouldn’t be where she is. We had to give the baby up because we can hardly meet our own needs and the child might not have survived in our care. I was hoping Maria would one day save this family but with her escapades and running off with strangers makes me wonder if my family can ever be saved. I just don’t know what to do anymore’.
Lucy’s fifth child was taken to a children’s home after delivery for fear of him dying of hunger under her care. She managed to get him back after the children’s home couldn’t handle any more kids. This is her third year of taking ARVs and she prays to God that she will see yet another year.
Maria’s child is in the children’s home under protection. It’s alleged that the father wants to terminate the baby as evidence of his heinous crime. He will face trial next year. Her one bedroom house is now under threat of being destroyed as it is on private property.

‘The passion she has for her children is what keeps her alive not even the medication’ she says. She wasn’t just born to fill the earth; her purpose overwrites all what is common in many people and she is aware. She didn’t just give me a story, she gave me hope, she gave me humility, she gave me the spirit of gratitude and most importantly she gave me motivation to reach to others like her.

-Based on true life events


A second year female student on Friday drunk herself silly at stage to the amusement of her fellow
revelers. The student who is believed to be a first time consumer of liquor is reported to have gone to stage in a company of her friends to take one or two for the road before attending the scandalous jam session at her pal`s room.

It is however reported that the lady instead of consuming what is enough gulped several bottles
leaving her temporarily mad.

According to an eye witness who declined to mentioned, it took the intervention of the sassy second year student’s friends to carry her to her hostel  after she stupidly decided to sleep along the Academic Highway clutching a lamp post.

The ‘rescue mission’ however proved difficult for the patrons as the hapless drunk woman persistently wailed uncontrollably attracting curious onlookers and thoroughly embarrassing her fellow revelers.