This archive report was first published on 22 May 2020.
It's Mother's Day, and I'd like to acknowledge two amazing women: my mother, Grace Aseri, and fellow columnist Beryl Wanga Itindi, whose pieces I read every weekend and find informative.
As I reminisce about my college days, I recall a unit in Psychology that didn't sit well with me. Lessons sounded like magician's incantations, and I couldn't see how Operant Conditioning by B.F Skinner would be helpful in my later life.
My college mate Eugene Were, whose parents had invested in his education, agreed to help me cheat on the CATS and exam in exchange for my help in connecting him with a girl from my neighborhood.
Most of the CATS went smoothly, but the real challenge came on examination day. Eugene had promised to revise the unit thoroughly, but when our lecturer announced a reshuffle of seating arrangements, he was moved to the front of the hall, metres away from where we had settled.
I was left fidgeting, biting my nails, and leaving blank spaces. Halfway through the exam, I saw Eugene stretch for an extra answer booklet, and that's how I got my first and only retake in campus.
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