I can’t believe I once looked forward to receiving messages from Helb

Today l look back at my high school days. I see myself struggling with 3D, linear programming and probability sums, each carrying 10 marks in either mathematics Paper 1 or Paper 2. I heave a sigh of relief. As I write this article, memories of my chemistry classes which featured radioactivity, mole concept, enthalpy changes and flow charts of metals flood my mind.

All village students who aspire to join university are told to work hard so that they can join the only varsity with the article ‘ the’ in its name – The University of Nairobi. Moreover, there existed some rumours that students get paid a stipend just for being at UoN, and, even more encouraging for me, that female students from other varsities fall over themselves chasing men who went to that institution. What a sweet life!

My octogenarian uncle even claimed that comrades’ salary (aka Helb loan) can buy multiple things. Eeeh? Multiple things? When I heard this, I didn’t need any more convincing. I passed my exams with flying colours, but someone at the selection centre became envious. I didn’t join the prestigious mighty UoN. I was invited to its less boisterous sister, Moi University.

When I got my calling letter I sat down in disappointment and wondered, would female students still run after me? Would l receive the Comrades’ Salary while at Moi? Did they know that I had plans to buy a cow, a piece of land, pay my fees and build a house with that money? I couldn’t sleep!

Once I got on campus, Satan got the best of me. I spent half of my first Comrades’ Salary on women and wasted the remaining half on the same women. Not a single penny went to my school fees, apart from the mandatory Sh4,000. Which means I never got to buy the cow. Or build the house. I have come to believe that Helb loan is cursed money.

Whenever I received a text message on my phone reading: Dear Hosea. Your Sem 1 loan award of Sh16,000 (Batch 3320) has been disbursed. Kindly check your bank account after 72 hours. Dial *642# to self-serve, green vegetables automatically acquired a repulsive Mwarobaini-like taste.

Now that I am done with campus life, l feel like blocking Helb messages. I am not yet employed, and the available temporary jobs  around require one to be well “connected”.

I no longer have the strength to sing the song, Oh, Anniversary Towers! Where does my helb come from? I no longer yearn to receive a message notification from Helb. Actually, I dread any communication from them. At a quick glance, I look like a rich kid in the red pull neck l bought using Comrades’ Salary but deep down, I regret taking the Helb and moreso, spending it with and on women. 

But thank you, Anniversary Towers. If it were not for you, l couldn’t have joined nor finished campus. Where else would l have met beautiful, confident and liberated girls? I’ve vowed to save Sh100 from any project I engage in until I finish repaying the loan.  So help me God.  

By Hosea Namachanja

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