#plot Art Exhibition in Maseno University

Well pips, stuff just got more interesting. This Thursday in Maseno University, there shall be an exhibition like none before.

SECOND YEAR DIES IN MASENO UNIVERSITY

Maseno has had its fair share of tragedies but these tops the list.

Yesterday, a student died because of the alleged negligence of the school hospital ambulance.

AFRICA GETS THIRD FEMALE PRESIDENT By Churchill Ongere

Ladies of the world, then men - Africa has the third female president yoh! Isn’t that just cool? Well, 56 year old Ameenah Gurib-Fakim made it. And more interestingly, she is a biologist.

3 Shades of Kenya Youth Hub by Stacey Nduta

Some of you reading this have heard of Kenya Youth Hub, the few informed ones in fact know of the event they are hosting this month. Unfortunately, others have no clue what they are all about. Well this is for each of you.

Recently, I had a sit down with the founder and CEO of Kenya Youth Hub to try get into the mind that transformed an idea to a non-profit organization successfully.

Why?

Duncan Mutwiri, a 4^th year Political Science student let me know that KYH was all about opportunity. Why I asked?

He explained that in his second year, looking for an internship was similar to climbing the great wall of China. “The concept behind KYH is to give youth access to opportunities and break the misconception that you need connections to make it anywhere in life."

What?

“What exactly does KYH have to offer that other organizations haven’t tabled yet?”

“Well, for now we are a lift model. We are focusing on preparing the youth for opportunities. This is basically through forums, conferences and summits. We want to open their minds; prove how limitless their productivity can be.”

He further explains how they’ll be launching a special and revolutionary platform during the 2^nd Youth Entrepreneurial Summit which is this 13^th March at Maseno University. 

Who?

“KYH seems to be an organization with the right focus, which team is this backing you up so well?”

“Well, KYH has individuals from diverse academic and professional backgrounds. It goes beyond being friends: it’s about having a similar vision and working towards it. Currently, the organization is led by 8 members of the executive board and 4 members in the board of trustees who lead externally so to speak and have hind sight of the tribulations and solutions in this area of expertise.”

He agrees that he did have a few falls outs possibly because the individuals lost sight of the vision.

Parting shot

“At KYH, we believe all those registering or yet to register will recognize this wave of change and realize that it’s never about waiting for the right chance but being prepared when the opportunity arises. See you there!” Register here

Art and Impulsivity: The Fighting Must Stop By Simon Wairiuko

The hill still stands. The ancient hill from where the King foraged the expanse of his loyal community. Ibwami was a resident like no other. It was the royal capital. And surround it, in a cyclical entourage were the other hills. Conical in structure, domical where the weathering had taken its toll and sometimes pyramidal pointing...don't know. The people perhaps awestruck by the architectural simplicity of physical nature, they had decided that they were part of it too. Grass for their heads in the night, daub for their walls, miniature serenity of the domical beehive for the pygmies in the girth of the Kongo forest and the pyramid and monolithic in far East. A rumbling architectural power was in place. Fractal scaling.

Mud rules; its sleek reprimanding nature means you look earthy. From earth. Made of Earth, whether it is the finest, it still is earth. Ask the Great Mosque of Djenne its all clay. How glorious it is standing so firm yet by some structural conceptions perishable and inglorious. If you want permanent, ask the South Africans. In East Africa you might find a ruin of a road- permanent by your modern standards but its ownership raked.

The hill still stands. This time in its thick savanna grass and the whistling umbrella acacias, just beneath its old granites, is a hole. A bottomless pit the glowing orange of the sunset never penetrates its darkness. If you looked through, you would notice the spiral, the staircase winding like a snake, only you see its tail. It is not the Mau Mau caves at Karura forest, no. Not even those at Mathira's Rui Ruiru (Black River). This is different.

Some time aback, before this pit that is definitely with all virtuosity a solitary hiding place, he was here. Somehow he had seen (probably in a vision at night) that the only place left virgin; green virgin, was only around the hill. Now, he had his sons, the strongest from all the seven wives, they were to pack the dried meat. Get guards from their mothers. Get itahas, mukimo to push through the first few days of the journey. It was a week's journey to the hill.

Cattle heads, goats were wealth. With the drought at Murang'a, there was a risk of losing everything that kept life; thereby losing life. That is why the migration was important. In the land beyond the Nyandarua ranges, just where the rising sun settles its healing rays every morning when it emerges from the peak of the Kirinyaga (Mt. Kenya), lies a sacred field. All animals, both wild and domestic pay homage to this shrine mostly when all hope is lost.  The old man knew this place. He knew it and he called it Mwituria (sole survivor), and the hill Kamwituria (the hill of the sole survivor).

Kamwituria. People settled. The people, the offspring, and posterity whatever you call them; just people. The school was built. It was important, its presence. Education, we want education mama, not arrows, not spears, not... we want pen and paper papa. It's alright. It's okay... the hill is scratched, it is baldheaded, it's okay... It has an electric fence all around its perimeter. No more of huts and royal paths. Well, that is alright. We get to see buffaloes in there. The Big Five. The Giraffe is the best, you should see its craft in a souvenir. And that is all good.

The hill stood. No earthquake quivered it. No tornado uprooted its umbrellas. Just cobras' heads popped up. Pythons snored... snakes. Snakes, elephants and the birds; birds chirping with a divine rhythmical tone, flying from one umbrella to another, seeking coherence and singling out the most habitable ecology in the jungle. Zebras, impalas...the grazers, gathuni, hares, gazelles, thwariga, don't forget the reindeer- well, not typical of Africa but its horns. I remember its horns were amazing. It was almost camouflaged with the twisting of the acacias around it. Lions before hyenas. Hyenas before vultures. And man before the lions.

Competition? You could call it that, but see this. In the school, two boys are fighting. One of them has this pointed head. He is tall. Both are tall. The other the head is flat. Noses. Noses are different. One seems to lose out on his nose's mischief. It's now white. He should know, how elongated the nose is. And subsequently how nosy he has become; he only came the other day. Like the rest of us, he was in uniform. Khaki shorts and blue sweater; we were all uniform! All of us are eager to get informed.