Dear Campus Boyfriend,

Before I mustered courage to write this, I had already imagined you in a million different scenarios. I have no idea what you're doing right now and I don't care. Maybe you're smoking weed or downing bottles of cheap liquor. Maybe you would have been enjoying generous puffs of sheesha but the gava banned that stuff.As such marijuana seems your only viable, last port of call. Or my perception of you is all wrong. Maybe you're just a spoilt, fattened brat, sitting on the couch at home. On your arms is a PlayStation pad and you're noisily playing FIFA 18 and screaming profanities at your gaming mate, like. "Nimekudinya tatu bure... Wee ni malaya sana!"

This gaming mate is your also spoilt little brother who is serving suspension from school after being caught making advances at a girl on teaching practice. Apparently, the chick was also on the radar of the school depa. Of course there could be only one winner.

Or maybe my notion of you is utterly wrong. You're a good mannered boy who scored top grades in the "mawe" exam we sat in the past year. You have accepted God as your only shepherd and Jesus as your only saviour. You go to church every Sunday, you generously pay sadaka and also sing in the church choir with a boring, lousy and croaky voice. But I care less too.

Dear future boyfriend, your boyish imagination makes you think that you're probably the most handsome man on the planet. That even flowers may blush in your presence but hey!!! Get up from that day dream. You may also think that you're extremely charming and you will blow my mind off when we first meet, but hey!!! That's another dream.

Be warned, I don't come cheap. You will approach me numerous times with boring and shrivelled lines like. "Niaje msupa, we ni mhot mpaka maini imeungua." With these you'll expect I blush like a lioness on heat in the presence of a male lion, but guess what, I won't. I will give you a long, measured look. My poker face unflinching ,your bowels may as well give way. God forbid.

Dear lovely boyfriend, I don't want to make this hard, but to get me, you will have to sweat. Your wallet will have to take numerous hits from which it may never recover.

I want your first lines to be in this wavelength, "Hi pretty...can I buy you lunch at Kempisnki or will you care for coffee at Java later in the evening". That will for sure get my nerves tingling. Now some enemies of development will say that I love money no! no! I only love what money brings in it's wake. Sweetie... I also hope that you will be paying for my saloon costs and buying me those pretty Brazilian weaves or else!!!

Oh dear boyfriend. I haven't met you but I know I will love you and your fat wallet. Stay safe for me and please avoid the so called good girls, they will mess up your life. So much we have to talk about my love...I can't wait to meet you. Kisses... Kisses and take care.

Yours truly,
Photo credits @Sophia Komen
Prepared by @ _osoch.

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