Dear Pregnant Classmate


I remember the first day I saw you; you were at the back of a long queue at the finance department. Bank slips were in your right hand while in your left you held a half filled bottle of water. A brown leather sling bag hung on your shoulder. You wore a tired look on your face but it was not enough to hide your raw beauty. Blonde braids that you kept tying and untying ran down your back. A loose orange blouse and  rugged jeans completed your look.

I intended to pay my fees later that day but the sight of you drew me to the queue. From the length of the queue and its slow moving pace, I knew I’d have enough time to hold a conversation with you and maybe get your number. So I promptly joined you and initiated small talk. I started by complaining about the length of the queue yet I secretly wanted it to remain still so that we could talk for as long as possible. Just like any other average campus student, I was too broke to afford a proper date in town, that queue was all I had.

You told me that your name was Lulu, a girl so beautiful that they named her after a flower. That was your third day in campus and just like me; you were there to pursue a degree in law. I was over the moon with the idea that we would be classmates. That was a perfect opportunity for me to make you my girlfriend as we would have unlimited access to each other.

As the queue grew shorter, we exchanged contacts upon your asking. I knew I was in the semi-finals . From the 30 minutes we stood there, you did most of the talking. You shared your dreams, your aspirations and your fears and I resonated with every word that you said.

The staff at the finance department attended to you quickly and you began walking away. Then you remembered that you met a new friend, you no longer need to walk alone. So you waited for me. After I was done, we left together – two new friends one wishing they would be more than friends.

A week later, we started our classes and followed them up with house parties every weekend. We felt like we had arrived. Campus lived up to its billing. The only worry on my mind was that you were taking me round in circles about the idea of us dating. You kept saying that I was like a brother to you. In fact you even went ahead and coined a term for me – bff. I hate that word.

When the moon lights up a clear night sky, many see it and many fall in love with it. You were that moon in a clear night sky. Other guys also noticed your shine but you slapped them with that term “bff”. However, not all of them were unlucky. Timo studied you for a while. He was a charmer and a schemer, the ultimate bad boy that many girls in class fell for. Unlike me or your other “bffs”, Timo didn’t try too hard. You feel for him hook, line and sinker.

Every conversation with you now became Timo this or Timo that. And in true bff fashion, you successfully turned me into DoctorLove. That was so humiliating for me. That is not why I wrote you this letter. For the past one month I haven’t seen you in school and I can’t reach you on your phone. I asked Terry your neighbor about you. She says you are four months pregnant with Timo’s baby. Unfortunately, Timo denied it. He moved on and is now dating that rich fourth year chick who drives a black Harrier.

Anyway Timo aside, I just wanted to let you know that I got your back. I can’t blame you for dating Timo because the heart wants what it wants. At this point you need somebody to hold your hand. Your mom is the best candidate because she’s been pregnant before. You’ve not told your folks about this but you need to. They will be livid and disappointed but anger eventually burns down like a candle. From what I’ve heard, labour pains are brutal. When that time comes, you will need your mum with you. Timo might have had the balls to impregnate you but we all know he does not have the balls to be in the same room with you during delivery. Heck, I would also flee.

Now you have a bigger motivation to be what you’ve always wanted to be. It’s not just about you,  it’s now about you and your unborn child. So pick yourself up and come to class, I will share my notes with you. Dear pregnant classmate, it shall be well.


This article was written by Capital Campus Correspondent Collins Pasi.




Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *