Nostalgic return to my alma mater, USIU-A
USIU-A library. During the two-and-a-half years of toiling for a master’s degree at the university, I would never have believed that a day would come when I would ache so much for a past I didn’t fully take in, outside of the rigours of academic work.
What you need to know:
- Nothing had prepared me for how different USIU-A would look in my eyes.
- Everything seemed to have moved on without me.
Last week, I was invited to my former university (United States International University – Africa) for the premiere of a student film titled Jabari.
I had seen the movie poster on the school’s IG and Facebook pages, but the timing of the first screening at Anga Cinema on a Saturday evening, in the unpredictable Nairobi rain, was a bit of a stretch.
A week later, I discovered that the film would have a school premiere. If I am being totally honest, I didn’t plan to head for USIU-A on a Thursday evening. I mean, who goes to watch movies on a workday evening?
But when I got a special invite from my thesis supervisor to attend the discounted premiere, I knew I had to sacrifice. And since I enjoy watching movies, the logical side of me was also convinced that going to watch a movie on a workday evening was neither irresponsible nor catastrophic.
Nothing had prepared me for how different USIU-A would look in my eyes. Everything seemed to have moved on without me. Remember one of the beer adverts that warn people not to drink and drive because… when you crash in the car and die, your friends’ will continue without you.
I felt a little like that. The university and other students had moved on without me, except in my case, I completed my studies well, and the leaving had a positive connotation.
There is a joke that trying to get into USIU-A is like trying to enter a mini-embassy. And trying to enter the university that evening as a ‘civilian’ tested that theory for me.
Students speaking in different accents quickly shuffled past me as I took a minute to take in the nostalgia. In cliques, they swiped their students’ cards at the gate… and I remembered how my friends and I planned arrivals to coincide so that we could walk to class together, chatting and taking photos; and realised some student habits just never change. But that Thursday evening, there didn’t seem to be anything that connected me to these students.
“I am here for the premiere of Jabari, at the auditorium,” I said to one of the security officers at the gate. He asked to see my movie ticket. And then asked for my national identity card to record details, before I was cleared to enter.
Lesson
During the two-and-a-half years of toiling for a master’s degree, I would never have believed that a day would come when I would ache so much for a past I didn’t fully take in, outside of the rigours of academic work. Which was a lesson for me to be fully present, and take advantage of every season in life.
My friends and I, for example, only realised how sweet the Chinese rice at the cafeteria was during our last week at the institution. We had spent all our time there only eating at the Java, because it was too much trouble to explore the other eating places on campus. That’s a collective regret we have.
One of the hosts for the evening was Miss Congeniality, USIU-A. And as the audience (largely students) cheered her as she walked, smiled, posed for photos, and danced, I had to be the adult in the squad. Besides my thesis supervisor, one of the deans who came in later and veterans of the Kenya film sector who had been invited to grace the occasion, I did not recognise anyone else.
The movie screening eventually began. The 50-minute student film told the story of a talented rugby player, also a university student, from a broken home who, as he gets to the peak of both his education and sport, has to confront his identity issues: meeting his father for the first time at the age of 24 and the loss of his mother.
I left the auditorium feeling refreshed and alert to why I need to pay attention, and enjoy every single day and season of my life. Time passes quickly. Make the best use of the time you have in school, with your friends and get the best out of the time by doing the right thing at the right time.
And while we cannot control the passage of time, purposing to maximise every opportunity we have is the best way to ensure our nostalgia is accompanied by tears of joy.
The writer is the Research & Impact Editor, NMG ([email protected]).
