ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Student at Makerere University kampala
Gender: Male (M)
It was in the third week of the semester at the Ivory Tower, College of business management pursuing my Masters in Arts with Economics.
The class was relatively big with around 80 students but among those many I had always set my sharp eye up on a certain lady who used to locate herself in the second row of the lecture room. She used to keep herself busy on her Lenovo laptop doing what I did not understand.
All the time I thought of how I could get her digits but it was not easy, not because I was timid but because she was not an easy person to approach basing on her facial expression. She looked like someone who had a lot of things to handle in the shortest time possible.
I was known for arriving late for the lectures because I had some official obligations and the lecturer knew it all.
In a certain lecture I raised a suggestion of creating a class WhatsApp group which would help us communicate with one another easily but my target was to get someone’s phone number.
I was assigned a responsibility of creating the group so that the rest of the members could be added by me.
I immediately moved around with a piece of a paper writing each and everyone’s name against their digits but to my disappointment, she did not write claiming not to be registered on WhatsApp. “Had she known my intentions?” A question came to my mind: but, come what might, I had to find her number by all means.
I rarely participated in the group interactions because I didn’t have any business there. It did not help me achieve my objective, infact I had added another admin to take control of the group activities.
“Everyone is required to submit their registration details in the group in not more than 3 days from now.” Professor Benard ordered in one evening lecture and I started jubilating because I knew that she would not survive me in any way.
It was now the third day when the lady had not told me to add her in the group. “Had she been added by another admin I had added?” I did not know.
I moved towards her seat because I then had a genuine reason which couldn’t give her a chance to blast me.
“Hello madam, have you submitted your details to the group?” I asked; but her answer was so disappointing.
She told me that she had handed her details over to the coordinator in a written form because she was not on WhatsApp.
I couldn’t ask the coordinator because she was a “talkhog” she used to over yap and I feared she would tell everyone in the class.
On the last day of the deadline for submission, Prof. Benard came as usual, conducted his lecture but when he was moving out, he said, ” I want all the details in the group. No one should submit a written chit! That’s how you ladies begin clinging on people.’ Today is the deadline remember!””
As Soon as he dashed out of the room, I received a written chit containing a phone number with a request, ” Please add me. #Tash ”
Her name was Tasha; I suspected.
Wait a moment….
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