Seated at home on a Friday, I was idle and tried to catch up on some reading. Lucky for me, a friend called and informed me about a house party and I quote, "Free drinks and nice women”… who can resist such an offer? My confidence was encouraged by the fact that I had bought a nice new pair of shoes and knew how to dress.

The thought of the exam I had the next day vanished in one second and as you can imagine so did the stress but I was filled with guilt about how others were reading and I was going be out all night. Joy sprouted from deep inside me when I found many of my classmates there. Wow! What a joy it will be to fail as a class. We got the party started. Drinks flowed, and trust me, when things are for free, people really drink. At around midnight, the party seemed to be watering down but with the hype we had, we just couldn’t go home, we had to party hard. The party was in Nyarutarama, our pockets where almost empty but we had to get to Ogopogo, rain or shine. I was with a girl and she was also up for the idea to continue all night since it was still early. For a moment, I realized I didn’t have transport to take both of us to Ogopogo and at the same time buy her a drink. I started fidgeting - trying to hide behind the speakers. Luck for me it was a little dark. You don’t know the kind of joy that hit me when one of my friends, who also had a light pocket said, "Since we are many, it will be fun to walk there.” Wow, no one has ever said words so touching like that. We started the trek and for a while, it was joyful until we got there and she ordered a quarter of Bond 7. OMG!!! That was all in had in my pocket. She asked me if I didn’t want a drink and I quickly answered that I was good for the night but would take one later. Imagine dancing knowing you are not going to get a drink and on top of that, trek back home! My heart literally shifted places when she poured the last drop in her glass. Without waiting for her to order another, I quickly sneaked away and run out of the place – sorry - I meant walked home. Don’t ask me what I wrote in the paper the day after or what that girl said to me when I saw her again.