To all of us single bastards…

Being single in campus is the devil’s work. Nothing else. Don’t lie to yourself that you’re waiting for someone to find you and love you. It’s a pathetic lie, sad even. The truth is the devil has smiled upon your life. Join a youth service somewhere. Or maybe, be an usher where you fellowship. That may help. But don’t feed yourself with shit like, “I’m waiting for someone, they’ll find me.”

The reason I’m saying this is because I’m single; for over a year now. A lot has changed since then. I’ve had short-lived sinful escapades with a few girls. My weekends are replenished with debauchery. I drink more often; harder stuff. A little weed too. I trust girls less. My phonebook is full of unnecessary numbers. You know, numbers that you only text on Christmas saying, “Merry Xmas” followed by the Santa Claus emojis; three. I don’t know of anyone that uses one emoji. If you do, I think you’re not happy. You hate babies. You want to smash them on the wall when they cry. You should be in isolation in Mathare being fed through that small hole on the door, if not in prison for killing babies. I digress though.

It’s been tough. Right now, I could delete my Whatsapp and no one would notice, maybe my weed guy. But that’s it. I’ve gone almost three days without a single text. Only Safaricom has put into account my feelings; texting me to repay my Okoas, but woe unto them. I’ll pay them back when Huddah follows me back on Instagram. It’s bad for me, especially at my age when my life revolves around my phone. Sometimes I’m sited in class waiting for a truant lecturer and everybody’s minding their business; staring at their phone, typing sweet nothings to their significant other. And I’m there staring at oblivion, wishing someone would text me so I would look as ‘cool’ as the rest. So I take out my phone and write something on Word to fit in. It’s depressing, I know.

(Now, understand that this is no rant or cry for help. It’s a superficial confession of a young adult.)

To make matters worse, my single allies are slowly being sucked into this dating world. I swear it’s a pandemic. Danie James has been going on perpetual dates with some yellow bird. He says he doesn’t feel shit for her. That he hasn’t even ‘caressed’ her. But I know better. It’s that modesty that makes you feel more miserable because they’re trying to let you down easy. Another one has more girls than Boko Haram, he says he’s, “looking for someone that will love him for him.” He’s narrowed down to two contestants. But we know at this point he’s already picked one. The third, a chap called Ian, has had a girlfriend for almost two year years; an ‘on and off’. Right now they’re on the ‘on’ part. So you can see what I’m trying to say, we, rather, I, have a problem on my hands.

Maybe now you’re wondering, “Why doesn’t this jamaa get himself a woman and stop fretting with posts about being single and lonely?” Here’s why.

As a single lad for a year, I’ve learnt a lot about (campus) chicks and dating. At our age, it’s all a lie; the blinding professions of love and adoration. I think we confuse love with something hornier because once we hit it, the so-called love reduces by half. Some girl where I live has had numerous numbers of men. They were too many I once thought she maybe dealt in something beneficial, say, HIV vaccine or exam leaks. Until I heard muffled moans and I knew she was giving out something more than vaccines. Now I know she’s not whoring because once they leave she’s hurt. She cries. (Don’t ask how I know) Some have ended with verbal altercations that have scarred me. She just falls too deep too fast. And then gets hurts, as is the norm in almost all relationships now. Because we men are dogs, and we get tired as soon as we’ve tasted the fruit.

We are meant to be single, at least at this age.