I blame it all on my high school deskmate, Tsimoni. Tsimoni used to be very macho, but his fear of insects was infectious. He would tremble when a moth flew over his head during the evening preps, or when a bee buzzed outside the window, or when he spotted an insect whose name he could not identify. Having grown in an environment where insects were plenty, I used to laugh at him. Until a nameless insect took a bite off my arm. Then I started trembling too.

But I am working on it, as well as other fears I have. Up until recently, I used to fear grasshoppers, termites and cockroaches. Okay, I still fear the large paratrooper cockroaches, but I am getting over it.

Still, that is not the only fear I have. Every time my hair grows long, I cringe at the thought of going to the barber. Electricity is not very dependable, these days. I have always imagined a blackout when a quarter of the hair on one side of my head is gone. I happen to live near the ladies’ hostels, so my fear is even more acute. When I cannot withstand the extra head weight, I usually put my marvin in my pocket and wait for darkness to fall before I set out to get a haircut. I would rather literally be the proverbial ostrich that buries its head in the soil than let the ladies see my quarter-shaved head.

Thank goodness my lady friend Alfayo is somewhat traditional. She does not fear anything. Show her a rat, and a glee fills her. I try not to think of her as violent, but the joy with which she murders those animals leaves me having second thoughts. Still she does not know how deep my fear runs, and I prefer that she remains in that blissful ignorance. It might prove quite embarrassing to me if she came into knowledge.

Alfayo loves cooking, and that is one of the reasons I like her so much. She is pretty good. I never knew that eggs could be stewed. Before you get all genius, in college, I live on ugali and kales. Before that, you all know the diet of a high school that is not located in Nairobi. So now I hope you understand where I am coming from.

Back to Alfayo. She knows how much I love traditional meals, so she cooked some termites and invited me over for supper. Of course I agreed, having had some memorable meals with her. I even forfeited my evening maize cob to preserve space. Little did I know.

 A single termite has six legs. Multiply six by a whole plate, and you will get the exact number of termite legs I ate. I do not even want to think about the abdomens. And all this while trying to keep a straight face, chewing enthusiastically and congratulating an Alfayo who was clearly enjoying her insects.

After a few chews, I developed a strategy to see me through the ordeal. I packed some termites in a coat of ugali, and chewed the combination just enough to be able to swallow. And consumed a lot of water. At the end of the day, she was happy and I was full. Come to think of it, that was actually the day I stopped fearing termites.

That was also the day I realized that each of us has fears, and we have the potential to overcome them. Confront them head-on, and you will realize that you are greater than them. The more we avoid them, the weaker we become. And there is nothing sweeter than the taste of victory. Ask me. I have come to like the taste of termites. You should try some. Come on! Stop being a coward!

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

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