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It’s back to campus, but don’t do this!

UREPORT
By Collins Osanya | January 13th 2017

The holidays are over — which means it’s time to go back to your books.

As you prepare for the first semester in January — you will be alive to the fact that a fresh batch of first years are only months way, which also means that you are aging.

Meanwhile, here is a guide on how to stay alive.

Don’t forget to sheath it: Sex isn’t bad. In fact, some researchers say it’s medicinal. They say it reduces depression and makes one feel better. However, if the prevalence of unplanned babies and shameless STI’s is something to go by, sex could be a disease. So, next time you exile your roommates to have a romp in the hay with that second year you stumbled into and liked, put on a bloody condom. HIV is still roaming like those lions on Lang’ata road. That sheat can save you from pampers, chakula ya mtoto-calls and that baby mama who behaves like she owns you and your underwear.

Team sponsors! Go easy lassie. The good things in life, like a posh apartment, take time. Those women who are grabbing male MPs by their scrotums in the August House worked their ass off (no pun intended) literally. They attract sanitised attention. Drive arrogant cars, and upload photos of vacations on Instagram paid for by their own money. I doubt they had a sponsor. So keep them knees together. Do what the pastor said. Be chaste. The cookies a sponsor gives you as he crunches on your cookie will be dearly paid for.

Too pretty to be loyal mentality: Men and women, from those days of Mau Mau, have always cheated. It’s not bad. After all, it’s just sex. But if your boyfriend smokes weed, drinks like a fish and plays Fifa all day, it’s your neck he’ll be twisting when he finds out he is sharing you with that wannabe short dancer whose trousers torn at the knee need a tailors attention. You’ve heard of campo stories where a boy killed his girlfriend or the fellow his girl left him for? Secret is in not getting caught when you decide to be unfaithful.

Your girlfriend isn’t your wife. If she says it’s over, imeisha. If it hurts, drown your sorrows in a jug of senator keg, listen to Bado by Harmonise and Diamond Platnumz than pour litter social media with your loneliness. Men don’t do that sort of thing. The beautiful ones are born, strutting in lecture halls, applying cheap make up and looking for love. You’ll find a replacement. Just preach love and drink lust.

Drunk driving: When you hire a car, pile fellow comrades in it then select a Demakufu mix as you hammer bottles after bottles of booze on your way to Nakuru or Naivasha for a turn up, thank heavens if a cop arrests you. Because, there on the road, death would have arrested you. Death has no bail. And buckle up. Watch the speed and stay sober. There’ll always be alcohol.

Mkubwa sio mwenzako: Dude, if you and the lecturer are eying the same babe, drop out of the race. Ask the fellows who graduated in December. Missing marks are a pain in the ass.

Collins Osanya

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