And anytime you find him not cool enough, I say, FORGIVE HIM!

I look at his elbows, they have wrinkles,

 and those wrinkles have their own wrinkles. 

The bottom of his trousers patched with a darker shade, 

probably a tailor's effort to try and extend its time of use. 

His head is bend low, like he is obsessed with sadness. 

On his feet, are old dusty pair of sandals, 

looks like those maasai's pastoralists wear in their quests along great spans of unforgiving deserts. 

According to Troy, he looks like those men who wear their right sock on their left leg, he toils more than he breathes, sleeps less than a sinner, eats like it is a duty and forever walks alone.

And, whenever he is walking along those campus corridors, he is always in a hurry, like he is always late for something. To him, every second counts.  

He is an introvert, not because that is how he is or he would say 'I was born like this' but because his circumstances have made him be accustomed to that kind of approach to life. 

Despite being in the same class since first year, I only noticed Githu while we were in our third year on campus. This was only because we shared a group for our assignment. on this particular day, he walks right up to me and asks if we our group was full and if not then we would accommodate him. His handshake was those kind with firm grips , like he is already ready for life. His effort towards the group assignment was unmatched. He wasn't like the rest of us. Those of us who take everything for granted, those of us whose only worry is to woo that girl we so into like it is a trophy. Those of us who only cared about Fridays and sherehe (Parties). While to us education seemed like a springboard, to him it was life. A ticket to a life he hoped for, a life better than that he currently was living. 

Out of curiosity, I wanted to interact with him more, to understand why, despite being fairly the same age with us, he wasn't like us. One thing that was clear throughout our interaction was that he was a troubled young man. Being a first born, in a family that the father 'dipped', he was the big brother to one sibling, the 'husband' to his mother, the go to man when the mother needed advices and guidance and most of the time the provider. He says, he does not recall the last time he was happy, or sad. The only thing he knows is responsibilities, what he had to do, what he did and how what he did impacted him and most importantly, his family.  This is the only thing that hounds him as a demon, the only 'motivation' he has. Whether he is happy or not, is inconsequential. He doesn't ask himself if he is happy or not. The only thing that count is if he did it or not.  

This is the thought he has to keep up each day. Like most people his age, Githu has this fear of not becoming the man he wants to be. I heard they call it atychyphobia. Don't mind me on that, everything has a name these days. Ask google. 

But yet again, he is still not yet there. Life begins at thirty, they said. He is only 23, I would say he has time... seven years is a lot of time, maybe it is not. 

"Your life is in your hands," is what they told him.

And with that he has been scrubbing his hands ever since. 

He cant afford to be careless with his hands, lest he becomes that which he most dreaded. 

Well, he doesn't believe in fairies, he doesn't believe that 'fate is in your hands.' 

He sees that as just another religious proclamation, a motivation to live. 

To him, what we are and what we turn out to be is a matter of chance: where you are born, when you are born and to whom you are born.  

So, FORGIVE HIM, 

FORGIVE HIM if he seems a little too serious for life,

Life has never been a joke to him.

FORGIVE HIM if he acts too busy,

He is only trying to rewrite his fate which seems a little blurred.

Just being ready for opportunity when it knocks, if it ever does.

FORGIVE HIM for being a lot more boring,

he doesn't have anyone covering him up in a bubble like you are.

He is riding solo.

And anytime you find him not cool enough, 

I say, FORGIVE HIM.