ATTEMPT 1. TOO EARLY FOR GOODBYE.

I dropped out of college four times in vain. You got me right. The same institution, the same course. I said goodbye four times before the final goodbye. I believe giving up is not an option until the only option that gives you hope is giving up. I gave up fighting only to realise I conquered the battles I was to conquer. Today I will give you the circumstances that forced me to give up and call it a quit.

Before I narrate the first attempt, kindly, note that all I ever desired to be, is a teacher or a priest.  I was lucky to land in a teacher training institute to train as a teacher. And it is in this very course and institution that I opted out this number of times.

This is how the first attempt happened. It was the second term of my first year in college. For those who don’t understand the academic year of a teacher training institute, it is exactly like that of secondary and primary schools. Three terms in a year. The first term of fourteen weeks, the second term of fourteen weeks and third term of eleven weeks. This was before the calendar was changed by former Education Cabinet Secretary Dr Matiang’i.

I was sent home for fees and to be honest all the hopes of ever getting cash were dim. My first term had milked my parents and siblings dry. I had nothing to do to generate cash to secure me another term in school. I had arrears from the previous term compounded with what I was to pay for the second term. I never went home for fear of causing emotional trauma both to my parents who could not raise another dime and to my siblings who my college fees denied them the luxury of a balanced diet. I went to my sister’s place which was a stone throw distance from the college. I was done with college. I had no hopes of going back. The only way I was to be settled was to convince myself I was never going back to college. I had to silently say goodbye.

I blamed myself for the situation I was in because my admission to college was not well thought out. My admission day was not supposed to be admission day. I had visited the college with my sister just to collect the information about the institutions. The visit turned out to be my admission, thanks to the people I will mention in another story. The amount of fee I raised during my admission date was ninth of the minimum I was expected to raise. No uniform, no sports gear, no books no nothing. My sister rushed back to her place to get me a used mattress, a basin and of course a plate and a cup. Teacher training colleges are exactly like boarding primary or secondary schools.

My parents came to learn later that I had joined a college. They mobilized all their resources including a donation from my former pupils. They managed to raise over two-thirds of the expected fee. Raising such an amount in the village in a nick knack of time is not a walk in the park. My parents lost balance for a while before the could resume their normalcy. Three months was a short time for them to recover and yet I needed some more for my second term. They had nothing to offer and that is why I was at home.

By the second week staying with my sister, my body could not handle the pressure I was pumping into my mind through ultra-ventricular valves of thoughts. I lost appetite. It has never happened before or has never happened again since then. Everything I smuggled into my mouth came out with crumbs of food that was remaining in my stomach.

I started feeling a surge of pressure in my stomach. Every minute I felt like exploding. There were some intrusive volcanoes going on my stomach. What surprised me the most was that while in the call booth, both calls were equally the same. Both liquids. Same viscosity, same colour and same amounts. I was given medicine to help check the bloating in vain.

One afternoon, after a couple of days struggling with my sickness, my sister took me out in the nearby pharmacy where she used to get me medicine. I struggled to maintain an upright posture but I felt relieved. I realised that I was fast losing weight and my eyeballs were drowning deep into my sockets.

At the pharmacy, we met a young pharmacist who after getting a clue of why we were looking for medicine in question gave his prescription. He delivered the message in a very simple and friendly way. The medicine I needed was college. If I was taken back to college I would be perfectly fine.

I imagined the worst that could have happened if I went back to college. None of the options was near being beaten or anything worse. I was given fifty shillings by my sister and I went back to college that evening.

In college, I took my supper hungrily, slept very well. The following morning, I was jovial in class and I guess I was invisible for the remaining days of the term. no one asked me to produce the bank slip neither a reason why I was back without cash. I was officially back in college. The first attempt failed.