So, sweating and panting from the punishing sun outside, I stepped into class, after my very punctual lecturer, who has the annoying and correct habit of saying ‘wimin’ instead of the usual ‘we-men’.

“Could you please tell us what a model is?” he asked, his nose pointing in my general direction. I busied myself looking for a book that was already in my hand.

“I’m talking to the guy with the extra eyes,” he pressed on.

Unfortunately, my classmates didn’t watch television as much as I did when they were kids, so I was obviously the lecturer’s point of attention.

“A person who parades clothes of different designs in a manner that is intended to attract a specific market niche,” I boldly answered, and the class burst out laughing. Including Alfayo. So much for my high sounding answer.

Now, Alfayo is who I’d call my dream girl. She’s got the beauty of the moon. She’s got a heart of gold. She’s a Christian. But she’s got a man’s name and that spoiled everything. Well, almost everything.

She whispered that we are talking about models in the representation context, then smiled that glorious smile of hers and I immediately got the courage to redeem myself. If only she had a different name...

Afternoon lectures are, for the most part, practice sleeping sessions. I have always wondered why we braved the sun to become excellent foam mattresses. Personally, I hate daytime sleeping, so I used to humor myself by watching dozing styles. There is the Nod, the Shake and the Bow (the sleeper gets to bow as if in worship), the Slide (the sleeper slips off the chair), and my favorite, the Bang, in which the sleeper bangs his head against the seat before him.

When I wasn’t watching other people doze, I concentrated on my future with Alfayo, of course having changed her name. In my day dream, if she doesn’t change her name, I’ll take to calling her pumpkin or pudding or something equally sweet. Anything but Alfayo.

I was nudged out of my wishful world by Shiro, my good friend who had been making faces at the slow university officials on the day we registered. She slipped me a note.

Apparently, she had been watching me watch Alfayo. The note simply read; ‘Look for friendship, not love.’ Just to sort you out, we have a strictly platonic relationship, me and Shiro. I’d already told her about Alfayo.

Those five words knocked sense into my head. You see, when we look for love, our minds are so set on relationships that we fail to appreciate a person as much as we do when we look for friendship. That is why, in most cases, we trust our friends more than we can trust ‘the one’.

As I sat there trying to decide on whether to make Alfayo my friend or my love, I saw Shiro smiling at me. I made my choice.

About The Author: Meshack Yobby knows first hand what it’s like for the average Kenyan in college. In his new column, College Life, he shares with us with his real-life and sometimes unbelievably comical experiences.

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