MY RIVAL BECOME MY LOVER

My name is Jay. Third year, Literature and Linguistics, University of Nairobi. If you ask me who is the most annoying, most proud, most irritating person in this entire university, I will say one name without thinking - Brian Mwangi. We have been sworn enemies since the first day of orientation, three years ago. I remember it clearly. It was in the main hall, Hall 9. All first year students were there. The Dean announced the Best Freshman Writer Award competition. The prize was ten thousand shillings and a chance to represent the university in the national writing competition. For a student like me, who comes from a small village and whose mother sells vegetables in the market to pay my fees, ten thousand shillings was a lot of money. I wrote a story called "The Goat and The Old Man". It was about my grandfather who lost his only goat during heavy rain and how the whole village searched for it. It was simple, emotional, full of heart. My mother cried when she read it. Brian wrote a story called "Tesla in the City". It was about rich kids driving electric cars and discussing climate change in their big houses while drinking imported juice. It was fancy English, big vocabulary, but no real heart. When results came, I won. First position. Brian came second. After prize giving, he came to me near the cafeteria. He was wearing expensive sports shoes, I was wearing second-hand shoes. He looked at me and said, "You won because they pity village stories. Next time, real English will win. You will never beat me again." Since that day, we became academic rivals. Second semester, Class Representative elections. I wanted to be class representative because the class rep gets free printing and a small allowance. Brian also wanted it because his father told him leadership looks good on his CV for his masters degree abroad. We both campaigned. I went to every room in the hostels, asking for votes. He printed big posters with his photo. In the end, I won with seventy six votes. He got seventy two. Only four votes difference. He said I cheated. He said I bribed people with snacks. I did not. I just talked to people like a normal person. Third year, we fought for Room 14. Room 14 in Hostel 2 is famous. It is the biggest room, has a balcony facing the field, has its own bathroom. Everyone wants it. Only top students with First Class grades get it. Both me and Brian had First Class - me with seventy eight percent average, him with seventy seven point eight percent. Very close. We both applied at same time. The accommodation officer was confused. He called the Dean. The Dean was tired of us. He has handled our complaints for three years. He said, "Enough!" So on Monday morning at nine AM, he called both of us to his office. "Jay, Brian, sit down." We sat far from each other. "Due to serious room shortage this semester because first year students increased, we don't have enough rooms. So I have a solution for you two. You will SHARE Room 14. You will learn to live together as brothers. Or you will both be moved to outside hostels far from campus and pay twelve thousand per month from your own pocket." Outside hostels are far, and twelve thousand is too much money. Room 14 inside campus is only six thousand five hundred per semester and near lecture halls. Brian looked angry but he also needs cheap hostel despite being rich because his father blocked his bank account saying he must learn how to hustle. So we had no choice. At four PM, we both stood in front of Room 14, with our suitcases, boxes, buckets. Looking at each other like two bulls ready to fight. "You take left side," Brian said coldly. "You take right side. And don't touch my books," I replied. We entered. The room was big. Two wardrobes, one big table with two chairs, a small cooking corner, and... one bed. One big double bed with a blue mattress. I panicked. "Where is second bed?" I called the janitor. He came. "Sir, where is other bed? This is room for two now." He said, "That other bed broke last week. A student broke it. We ordered new one. It will come after two weeks. For now, you manage. Or one sleeps on floor." One bed. For two enemies. This semester is going to be hell. That night, I created a border. I took the biggest pillow and put it in middle of bed, making a wall. "This is your side, this is mine. If you cross this pillow wall, I will pour cold water on you." Brian laughed, that annoying rich boy laugh that makes girls in class laugh. "Don't flatter yourself. I would never cross to your side." We slept back to back, far as possible. At midnight, the power went off. Total darkness in hostel. No generator. My phone battery was two percent. I am scared of darkness since I was a child. My grandmother told us stories of spirits that come when lights go off. My heart started beating very fast. I started shaking slightly. In darkness, I heard Brian whisper, "Are you awake?" I pretended to sleep. "You are shaking the bed," he said. "I'm not. I'm cold," I lied. Silence. Then I felt movement. He removed the pillow wall completely and pulled blanket to cover both of us. "Sleep. I am near," he whispered. For first time since I knew him, his voice was not proud. It was soft. I slept. And for first time in Room 14, I didn't feel like I was sleeping with my enemy. I felt safe.