By Zack Omondi

(Article written by Zack on his first week, first year in Moi University)

Dreams will always change our lives,
Dreams will always crop out great leaders from leaders,
Dreams will always select best achievers from achievers,
Dreams will always travel miles to find great minds,
Dreams will always bring a positive change,

Dream as if it’s your last night,
Dream as if living 1000 years,
Dream as if seeing the end of the world,
Dream as if you are the greatest dreamer,
Dream as if you are living your tomorrow,

Dreams aren’t dream t only,
Dreams aren’t felt only,
Dreams aren’t for imaginations,
Dreams aren’t horses to be driven,
Dreams aren’t there to move mountains,

Dreams are facts,
Dreams are real,
Dreams are to be felt and fought for,
Dreams are our life’s companions,
Dreams are maps for our brains,

Dream overnight and wake with the sun to face reality,
Dream reality and it will make your dream real,
Dreams must correspond with with the reality of our lives,
Dreams that are real, are the images of our lives,
Dreams And Reality are the synonyms of Success In Life,



By Zack Omondi

It takes strong love to heal and rejuvenate back a heart broken so many times back and bring it back whole again. It’s true beyond doubts that a broken heart is like a broken rib; no one knows about it but the pain when the victim breathes is so much unbearable – confined only to the person. Not to forget this piece of advice from a close friend of mine that we can still bend and love again.
This is campus and chances have it that relationships – two thirds – usually characterize a tragic ending that one react to that point of rendering his/her life useless, and the only way to address to such is making the best turning point. Answer a negative with a positive therefore hit back to hatred with a love. The worst solitude is being in a destitute of sincere relationship but maybe life itself isn’t about trying to fix something broken, maybe it is about starting over then creating something better. And that’s the art of a colorful living.
Forgiving is magical; and this serves as the best start. If you still hold on to the mistake committed by the partner, then it may cause another breakup in the future. Get to know the reason as to why the partner committed such a mistake and forgive him/her forever if you wish to take the relationship a long way further. Anger inside ones heart is like an acid, it effects negatively to the vessel holding it more that what it will be poured onto.
The best experience is earned by learning from mistakes. Get to discover the flaws in the previous relationships and renew your commitments. Let the rains come down and wash away those tears, let it fill your soul and drown your fears. This is founding another basis to sustain yet another fruitful relationship – but more mature.
A healthy relationship always involves communication. But when hurt feelings are involved it is often difficult to communicate in a clear and rational way, and discussions often devolve into arguments which solve nothing. Become meticulous at times and never ignore those slight misunderstandings because they converge to a break up later. Communication is the keystone to every successful love-partnership; and a humble response is much more than a golden mansion.
Change from within to without – because you might not change him/her literary, yet your behavior will do. Let your resolutions to a new being change your partner which doesn’t necessarily mean being submissive to the partner, but following a better way to be in a more satisfying relationship.
If it broke, don’t throw it away just for the sake, but fix it by starting all over again. When a mirror falls, it is wasting time trying to recollect and putting the pieces together, but trust me you will love that new one the stalls has preserved for you.

Debate! Debate! Debate!

Should religious organizations be taxed?

What are your views? What is your take on the matter? What is your take concerning to the issue as to whether church and religious organizations should pay th ‘admission’ price? What is your view point? How about it? What if you shared your opinions with the rest of the MUCSA noble minds, together?

THIS FRIDAY, SR-6 as from 7:00PM.

Miss it, you miss out.




‘Agape’ Love

By Bedah Ouma

While Pictet argues that he refers to a Greek tradition, he is more likely
referring to Christian thinkers; Greek philosophers such as Plato and Aristotle were
mostly interested in eros and philia. Agape received much broader usage among
later Christian writers. In The Good Samaritan, Max Huber also argues that agape is
developed within Christian virtue ethics: ‘Agape, Christian love, seeks nothing for
itself, for though bestowed by men on men, it is only the response to the love of
God, which has stooped to make its dwelling in human hearts’. Charity, he writes,
is ‘the entire attitude of a soul towards the other members of creation, after it has
been taken possession of and made new by faith’
In his Summa Theologica, Thomas of Aquinas, influenced by Aristotle,
argues that charity, or agape, is divinely infused practical wisdom. According to
Aquinas, a man is virtuous because his actions correspond to an objective norm.
For Aristotle this was reason and for Aquinas, reason and faith.
Virtue ethics was the prevailing approach to ethics in the ancient and
medieval periods, which strongly influenced many Christian writers. It emphasized
character, rather than rules or consequences, as the key element of ethical thinking.
Agape was one of the theological virtues mentioned by the Apostle Paul in I
Corinthians 13: faith, hope and love (charity or agape).
Ibid., p. 14. It is interesting that Pictet describes humanity, in the sense of charity, as a
(universal) encounter It is worthwhile comparing this to what the German
philosopher Marin Buber argues about an encounter in I and Thou: that in a
genuine encounter, the receiver must also be viewed as worthy by the giver.If not,
the encounter is fundamentally instrumental in nature: such ‘I–it’ relations are
oriented toward domination because they are relations in which the subject (the
‘I’) takes its partner (the ‘it’) as an object.
If this is what is implied, it should be impossible to speak of humanitarian
aid, and the value of humanity, in instrumental terms. In fact, in this encounter
with the Other it is very likely that one becomes concerned and involved with the
situation of the Other. As a result, if injustice is being done, the urge is to act for the
‘good’ of one’s fellow human beings.
What exactly this ‘good’ for one’s fellow man consists of is a question that,
for Pictet, was one that ‘hardly arises … in connection with the Red Cross’ and,
according to him, was not relevant. However, from the events discussed below it
is obvious that this has become an elementary question: what exactly was the ‘good’
for Jews in Nazi Germany, Ibos in Nigeria or Rwandan Hutu refugees in Zaire? In
these cases, for many humanitarians the ‘good’ is related to the ideal, or value, of
When this value of justice implies that some deserve aid more than others,
there could be a tension within the definition of humanity itself.

The Icing and the Cake

By Zack Omondi

In the case of a cake, we are on pact that there is the  icing and the real thing. The cream and the content when we are inferring to milk or the appearance and the engine itself for cars. The two buttresses each other. Just inculcating some palpable sense in you, my dearest reader – but which is which.

I happened to be watching a certain horror movie times back, and there goes a very beautiful mansion that these cynical and daring group of young couples are determined to explore – a castle whose dwellers are these dangerous creatures. We have double-branding, a personality and a character, so my thoughts today on this publication.

“To me, she was that kind of an ideal person I fancied right since the conception of our relationship; that perfect package sent to me from ethers,” says Steve (parody). My outlook about love and relationships turned out to be spurious. “It’s usually fun when you are in the love-affair ‘thing’ but it became harsh when I was the only one taking it seriously,” chanted my classmate along the Academic Highway. It’s a sweet and a sour  experience, for you have this up-to-date guy on how to romance or maybe who will satisfy you in all aspects be it provision, profession and protection and yeah, she is the most beautiful lady in the context. What is this hidden to come undone? The way Valentine* dirges, “Who is she? To be frank, I don’t understand him.”

On identifying a love-partner, not an expert but saying the truth – it all depends with you. Well, it’s not that easy starting all over again – trying to recollect the broken pieces. A cake can be considered a cake without the icing – home scientists to confirm my                    conviction or if milk with the cream alone. Character is what defines a partner, not personality alone. Is she honest, happy, genuine or of integrity? Is he smart, handsome, extrovert or of passion towards something? Chances are that a genuine friend will be frank and tell you gears he/she is in tune with. She will be happy every time when you are around, neither to bring you close nor to get something from you but because you are the one. He will not give you the cash because when you come for a ‘sleep over’ she’ll expect something but because you need it. That’s how character contrast with personality. Whether cemented and decorated on the outside, a grave will remain to be. Simple advice; for you to know the character, it takes time not weeks. If you are truly into it, then you don’t need to rush because he has swag, cash or she is the good-looking and comely one. Personality is apparent but character is concealed beneath the superficial looks and behaviors.

True beauty is inside, it lurks because it manifests to the right people. Take your time, a cake is not a cake with the icing alone.


Okay, I am?

By Justina Kageni

Ngo; that’s how they refer to me. Ngo is a nickname my late grandfather gave to me when I was a little girl. I have always adored it such that at some point in life I thought it was my official name. I grew up having a very petite body than my peers. I was at some point the smallest kid in my school. Since when I joined high school I have never weighed more than 48 kilograms. I love my body and I am very comfortable with it. My friends would give me funny nicknames but I would still give a broad smile. I   never missed meals back then unless if I was sick. I however wonder why the society looks at me with mean eyes. I used to think that just like everyone else I was a part of it.“God made all of us beautifully and wonderfully” I reminded myself occasionally. It was not until last year that I realized that people judged me according to my body size.

On the  Christmas eve my  extended family had a get-together. I had longed for the occasion so much. As I went around welcoming visitors my aunt called me aside and we had a confidential conversation that left me heart-broken.”Ngo “she whispered. “You so thin and probably you have a thousand worms that keep on taking nutrients from your body” I just looked at her and said “am OK aunt “Deep inside myself my self-esteem was taking a nosedive. Her words had cut across my soul such that I could not hold back my tears . I tried holding myself together because I knew more was to come before I went back to the university. My aunt still continued to interrogate me as she  wanted to know if I was sick or my relationship with my boyfriend was on rocks. Of course neither was happening to me. I was just slim and that was all.  My cousins were all plump and my relatives always compared me to them. “Why can’t you eat well like Tony “my ever drunk uncle once asked me. I could   never be Tony because he was him and we never had anything in common except our love watching movies.

Does someone has to be accused of having HIV and AIDS for being fit? Or be seen as  a broke fellow who cannot afford a decent lifestyle? I ask myself every day as I wake up and retire to my warm bed .However it has never crossed my mind that I should hate myself. There are millions of women starving themselves just to have what God gave me free of charge. I embrace myself knowing that at the end of it we are all people. Beautiful people with valid dreams and visions.



Deal with it



By Gertrude Cherono

Anger is a complete normal, usually healthy, human emotion. We have once felt it whether as a fleeting annoyance or as fully fledged rage .But when it gets out of control and turn destructive, it can lead to problems either at workplace, in a relationship or even with friends. And it can make you feel as though you are at the mercy of an unpredictable and powerful emotion.

Breaking of utensils, harassing my siblings and taking any medicine which I came across had become my thing whenever I was angry. I never cared whether the person I was my sister or even someone elderly. When it got out of my control, I preferred staying alone or avoiding seeing the person who made me feel so .It reached a point where I felt like I could not breathe any more.

This worse moments came and that’s when I realized that wherever I was heading to was not really safe .I had issues with my sister .I decided to take half glass of paraffin and knock the window but whatever followed was nothing but complete injury. My hand bleeding was all that I could see .My sister could not help me all she could tell me was `that’s all you wanted. Treat yourself`. That late night had to tie my hand with a piece of cloth and sleep as I impatiently waited for morning so that I could go to the hospital.

My pocket money was all that I could use .Getting to the hospital I had to persevere the pain of pie
ces of broken glasses being removed. That pain really taught me a lesson. What about the cost of purchasing a new glass so that it can be replaced? All at my cost since it was a rental house and the tenant kept asking us to replace it .It’s there that I started learning slowly by slowly how to deal with it. Though at times I could not control, but I had something back in my mind to make me control it, my injured hand.

I started taking things easy and most of them as jokes .Whenever I felt like it’s out of my cont
rol , I just tell my mind to relax  Sometimes when I feel like it’s frustrating I console myself that it’s not the end of the world .

Those who get angry and feel like all is lost then they should get a way out of it because you may end up doing something worth being jailed and at the end you regret. If I managed to get over it you can also deal with it. It’s not a lifetime thing. Though it is normal, but when it gets out of control it becomes something totally different.



The Village Girl



By Faith Musengy’a

Being the last born in a family of two, I managed to surpass the required cut-off points for admittance

to the University. My father was happy and excited because for once one of his girls was joining the university; the most stubborn one. My mother on the other hand was thanking God for her efforts had bore fruits. Remembering back in 2009 when I had gone to do an interview at a public boarding school we were forced to spend our night on a cold floor scented with paraffin.

Being the first person in our family to set foot to the university I was happy because I will m

ake new friends and also very excited because I had been admitted to my dream university. This University was away from my tribal land and I loved this since I had spent my last days of my life studying within the confines of my tribal land. Despite my tribal accent, I am proud to speak and interact with the rest of the students. I am also proud of my tribal land since it has made me whom I am now.

I am jubilant about this campus at the moment because for once there is no water problem, as we all know water is life. Back in my tribal land where I have spent my past nineteen years water is a major problem. One is forced to travel for kilometers to get this life. Back in my boarding life I was only given a liter to take a bath and wash my uniform. Drinking water was given in a half a cup.

The climate of this foreign land which is the home of champions is favorable and I am in love with it. My tribal land, where I attended my primary and secondary education, lies amidst a semi desert. It was a great challenge, especially when eating the dry ‘githeri’. You are dehydrating and you use all the saliva in your mouth trying to gobble down the dry seeds.

This foreign land is Canaan for me; green land full of water and milk. Not to forget the large fields of wheat and maize. Least on the list is the beautiful scenery of waterfalls and cataracts. When I get back home I will tell my mother about the big beautiful cows which produce lots of milk and how sometimes I am tempted to milk them. These cows have no horns and big eyes like ours back in my tribal land. I will also tell my village mates who got married back in primary school about ’ Mabs’ where all greens are sold and not like our ‘soko‘ where you go to shop and miss to see anything  green.

I am tempted to carry my village to this foreign land for them to see this wonders. I am proud of this same village because they are proud of my village and also because they utilize the resources they have wisely. Long live my village.

The cry of an orphan




By John Abdub Wako

“Daddy! Mummy! Am back home from school”, this is a phrase many of us will use when we are back home. Running happily towards our parents to give them a lovely hug and a sweet peck. We always feel we have a home that is packed to full happiness.

As we were at a tender age growing, sometimes we could fight with our peers and run to our parents for protection. You could see your daddy being the strongest among all other dads never to know that all our dads were strong since we all believed that. When my dad was around there could be no problem that could disturb me since there was someone God gave me as a guider, protector and a provider to all my needs on earth.

I could see my dad as the head of the family and all respect was accorded to him. He was always the bread winner of the family. Whatever he could say was to be done or else we could face a serious disciplinary action. We were molded to be responsible as a adults at a tender age.

The other half rib of the family was the important factor to all the members of the family. Whenever dad could be back home from Job, mum was already there to provide anything that was needed. Name them hot water, ready meal, wash clothes, iron cloths, clean the rooms, wash utensils to name a few. She was a pillar that was so important in the backbone of a family.

Mum was so caring, loving and so sweet to everyone. She was everything to us; when I come back from school she will be a teacher to teach me how to work out my homework, when I am sick she is always there as a Nurse/Doctor to take good care of me, when I am hungry she will be there as a Chef to cook for me and above all she is one doing all this to us, so that our future could be bright.

But life has not been the same ever again. The world has been lonely for me and so selfish. I have no one to call daddy again to provide what he was to me. I have no one to call mummy to be there for me when I need her. I am all alone in this world to fight for myself, where all other children have a family that can provide for them everything. What have I ever done wrong to deserve this loneliness and struggle in life.

Relatives have therefore been my enemies since they can’t listen to you. Even what you could inherit from your family is taken away by the same relatives. They have become greedy hyenas who have no mercy or kindness to help you out of the grief. The only option remaining to be helped is to become a maid and a slave in my relatives house.  My relatives are all far away from me, they can’t offer me a heart to help me.

Whenever I call for help no one believes me. Everybody looks at me as a thief, fraudster, beggar, poor. I am looked upon being nothing in this world. I always go to school without food since daddy is not there to provide, mummy is not there to cook for me. As I get to school my belly produces funny sounds that scares off all full bellies that smile all round shouting and making stories of the types of foods they ate. I feel lonely and as I seat down to focus to my study to change my future. The bursar is up on my foot, the first name is always mine on the list of the fee debtors. My fellow pupils will laugh at me as I walk out my heads pinned down due to shame. Where on earth will go then?

I have to run up and down to look for fees so that I get back to school. The run for fees without loosing hope continues but whenever I get to look for bursary. Every door I knock I will be chased away since I am no one. I look like a mad person. No ear listens to my story. No one is my mum or dad in that office. Security officers will be called to throw me out.

Time will unfortunately knock me out of school and push me to the struggle life in search of food and shelter. Lastly, life pushes me to street and death at last. Whom shall I cry out to for an helping hand that will look me through in my studies and support me in life.

I am all alone in this world. I am my own daddy and mummy. God I look upon you save my soul.