I first met Mohammed Doyo when he joined Moi University. I was a sophomore. We were from the same department of communication studies. Last week, we met in Mombasa for an all-expenses-paid workshop. We now work for ‘government’.
Like all alumni do when they meet, we started musing over student politics and what we thought we would contribute after the university.
I was pretty much a ‘radical’ at the university.
I vied for seat, and won. Doyo voted for me.
To cut the story short, Doyo believed I would amount to something more. I too believed so, and in the early years post university, I tried.
It ended in handcuffs and a protracted court battle.
And as I fought in court, a world opened up to me that I never believed existed: State. Society. Then N.O.T.H.I.N.G!
I interacted up close with those I had admired. The childhood heroes! In these interactions, some excitement in me died. The irrational exuberance of the youth slowly gave way to cautious optimist.
“You compromised,” he told me.
“No, I changed,” I replied.
