By Omollo Owuor Ngare
An acquaintance, perhaps irked by my prima facie antipathy towards Riara University and institutions of such ranking, inferred that maybe I am a bitter jilted lover or that my intimate pursuits had come to naught. I was at pains explaining to him that I am not predisposed to abstract romantic whims. Riara University serves an interesting group of students. It serves royalty; sons and daughters of wealthy oligarchs; princes of patronage; progenies born into families where austerity never has been part of the cumulative scheme.
I call this group interesting because most of them have got no clue how books are read and examinations passed. Basic schoolwork concepts mostly elude the telemetry of their radars. Why do they spend the first quarters of their lives in private institutions? Where they are pampered and treated with kid gloves? You think they pursue the illusion of quality education we have been made to believe exists in private schools? No Sir! They are whisked away to these nondescript establishments because they know that if put on a level play field, with sons of peasant farmers like myself, the thrashing they are likely to receive will be on a scale so staggering, and that is bad for the status quo.
Now these kids, who often give intelligence a wide berth, will either be doing a foreign education system in Brook House or Brae-Burn or God knows where. They will then proceed to Daystar University or United States International University or some will be shipped abroad. I will focus on those who decide to remain behind. You see, they suffer incurably from a superiority complex. They know too well that academics ain’t for them. They can’t tell A from B. One would think that they should fold their tails between their legs, call it quits and head home to their Mamas and Papas, to the pampering of servants and house maids, to enjoy the luxury that comes with wealth, enjoy the foreign trips abroad and the shopping sprees.
But No! They think they were born to get everything. So they will enroll for -of all things- a Degree in Law. Are you kidding me? They know too well that they left Secondary School without a clue. They also know too well that Law is intellectually complicated for them. With their God forsaken grades they stand no chance of becoming legal practitioners. But they still go for it. A stupid lot I tell you. So they opt for mushrooming private outfits you see in your neighborhoods. Why do they shun Public Schools like my own Parklands School Of Law? Simple. The strict academic standards we have, the total war declared against plagiarism, the hours and hours of legal research is too hot for them.
So they will go into private institutions, sit in the classes shit-faced with foolish grins across their well oiled faces, shifting in their seats from one butt to the other, thinking about the plate of fries awaiting them after the lecture, or the uptown escapades. That is all they can think about I tell you. At the end of the lecture, they walk their over-fed tummies out of class and wait for tomorrow. The ritual repeats itself over and over. How do they do their assignments you ask? Well, they are the lot who believe money can buy anything so they will look for my broke ass, pay me a few thousands, and voila! Assignments done.
Not that I would do it. What do you take me for. To imagine myself serving these sons and daughters of robber barons gives me the chills. That is how they manage to go through Law School. At the end of the day, they are the half-baked practitioners we have. Those who cannot piece together legal advice,who cannot litigate, who cannot freaking represent a client in court. And you think their kids can be any better? The cycle of acute lack of gray matter in the cranium haunts them for eternity. Cursed lineages. So, please Council of Legal Education, get Moi University School of Law (Annex Campus) up and running. We give no damn about Riara.