I think any first year will tell you, you never really know what to expect from your first day or year on campus.
Very quickly you realise that you are categorized into one of two groups;
Exhibit A: The type of first year that is overly prepared. You’ve packed all your textbooks & notepads. Now you are walking around like the half man half creature from 300.
Exhibit B: The type of first year that is a tad bit too cocky. You have come underprepared & lectures are going full steam ahead. Now you’re asking yourself, “ Nani Ali ku tuma ufunze medicine ? ” (Swahili for “who sent you to study medicine”).
But! They say it’s the exception that makes the rule. So maybe, just maybe you fit into the third & infamous group of first year’s that show up with the right amount of artillery, ( This med school thing is war, stop playing!). For most people ( There is absolutely no supporting statistics for this, so this could be complete banter… ( ˘˘̯) ) first year was the sort of date you wouldn’t go on twice.The sort of date which you return home from & look at yourself in the mirror & think, “hmm look at me! I really sat through all that!”.
In all cases for me first year was like finally kicking game to the female you’ve been plotting on.
Act 1: THE PERFECT MOMENT
You stalk her like prey. Patiently waiting for the perfect moment to speak to her. If you miss your opportunity, woops! STRIKE THREE! It’s a wrap! That’s what trying to figure out when to study was like.
I mean I start at 8h00 & finish at 18h00 but need another hour and a half to get home. I get home tired & hungry. The routine usually consisted of going back & forth in my head trying to prioritize what I’ll do first; shower, eat, watch t.v, study & sleep or eat, shower, study, & sleep. The first two, regardless of the order are easily accomplished. However when the effects of splashing (hydrotherapy/shower) kick in, my eye lids start to flutter & Hozier has an Arsonist’s Lullabye to get off his chest.
Act 2: THE ENCOUNTER
1001 rehearsals should be enough to know, what to say & how to say it.
Okay, you’ve got her in sight, playback the tape in your head. Then decide you’re going to wing it. “It shouldn’t be that hard. I’ll go with the flow”, you say. WRONG! (Unless you live under anointing of the mac gods, you don’t wing an encounter with the object of your affection.). At this point I am in the examination hall for my first one on one with the professorial staff. Very quickly it is clear that the two-day/night-before studying trip just won’t cut it. The body count escalates with every question.
Act 3: WALKING THE PLANK
You get another chance to either sink or swim, to pull your socks up, to come correct, ku acha miza (Swahili for “to stop the games” ), if you will.
With this half a chance handed to you, you summon the wolf in you. Sugar must be had. After all, she’s just a woman & you’re just a man.
At this point, I mastered… Haaha, no I am lying. At this point I more or less manage well my time. Socks are knee high & med school is my sweetheart.We argue often, but that girl is mine.