A firm knock abruptly interrupted the silence.

It was a quiet Saturday afternoon, and I found myself home alone because my roommate, Sly, had left for the weekend. Our small but functional cubicle in Ngong Hostel had a shared main entrance that opened into two separate spaces: one to the right, where Sly and I boarded, and to the left. Each space had a door curtain. Ours was beige with orange floral details.

The walls were painted off-white and bore faint smudges from past students, lingering like ghosts of old conversations. Against the farthest wall sat a bunk bed, the upper half untouched today since Sly was away. Beside it was a simple wardrobe, its wooden surface dulled with age and doors that never quite closed properly. A large Taylor Swift Eras Tour poster hung next to the wardrobe, adding a pop of color to the otherwise muted room.

Beyond the door curtain was a large window that overlooked a botanical garden, where tall blue gum trees swayed gently in the afternoon breeze. The dry leaves beneath them formed a colorful carpet. By the window, a study desk was cluttered with uncapped luminous yellow and green highlighters next to a coffee mug stained from hours of study. I sat hunched over a copy of Lehninger Principles of Biochemistry, reviewing the Krebs cycle from Dr. Makumi’s lecture. Scattered across the floor were pages filled with handwritten diagrams as I tried to master the cycle. The late afternoon sun filtered through the slightly drawn curtains, casting warm streaks of light across the space and enabling me to remain focused. The air was still, save for the occasional rustling of leaves in the garden.

Suddenly, a firm knock came at the door. Who could it be? Perhaps someone was looking for Sly. I pushed myself up, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles from my T-shirt, and then opened the door.

Martin, my coursemate, stood in the doorway. He was short and round-faced, with charming cheek dimples. His bright eyes radiated warmth in contrast to my guarded demeanor.

“Hey, Nia.”

“Oh… hey.”

His gaze flickered into the room and then back to my face. “Can I come in?”

I nodded and stepped aside.

Once inside, Martin’s eyes landed on the Eras Tour poster. “No way. I didn’t know you were a Swiftie! Did you see the acoustic setlist from last week?”

I blinked and followed his gaze. “Oh, that’s my roommate’s,” I said quickly. Martin raised a brow, still grinning but now intrigued. “Really? Man, what a cultural reset.” His tone was playful, but he quickly scanned my expression and noticed I wasn’t biting. He let the topic slide and plopped onto the lower bunk, crossing his legs and positioning himself to catch sight of my open textbook.

The Struggle to Maintain the Conversation

“The Krebs cycle? Makumi really went in on that during that last lecture,” Martin said.

I nodded in response.

Not deterred, Martin continued, “Have you ever wondered how biochemistry connects to AI?”

I flipped a loose strand of hair behind my ear and allowed my fingers to linger there longer than necessary. “Not really,” I replied.

Martin chuckled. “I was reading about that last night. AI-driven biochemical simulations are already revolutionizing research labs, but our curriculum is stuck in outdated models. Do you think we’ll even be ready for the job market?”

I pressed my lips together and muttered, “Maybe.”

Martin leaned back against the bunk frame, stretching his arms behind his head. “I guess we’ll find out when we graduate,” he said. “Can you imagine entering the industry and realizing that half of what we learned is obsolete?”

I started feeling the pressure to share my opinion. I had a couple of ideas, but I spent too much time trying to organize them into the perfect sentence in my head. A pause stretched between us, long enough to feel uncomfortable.

Martin shifted gears in the conversation.

“Okay, fine, no more AI talk,” he said, grabbing his phone. “Have you seen this TikTok? It’s all over campus.”

He pressed play on a video of Alex and Ben reenacting one of Mr. Muriuki’s dramatic monologues, complete with exaggerated gestures, fake tears, and wild captions flashing across the screen.

He chuckled, glancing at me. “Please tell me you’ve seen this.”

“No, I haven’t,” I whispered back.

Martin grinned. “Man, you need to catch up. The comment section is insane.” He scrolled through the replies, amused by the ridiculousness of it all.

I glanced at the screen for a moment and smiled. The whole concept of inside jokes, quick-witted replies, and seamless digital interactions was another world I didn’t quite understand.

Martin’s grin faltered as he tried to read my cues. After a moment, he slowly locked his phone. “You don’t use TikTok much, do you?”

I shook my head slightly. “No, not really.”

“Anyway…” He hesitated. “I thought you’d find it funny.”

Another pause ensued. He rubbed his hands together. “Well… I should probably head out.”

I nodded, a bit too quickly.

Martin stood up and adjusted his hoodie. “See you Monday.”

As the door clicked shut behind him, I exhaled deeply, feeling the tension unwind from my shoulders.

The Longing

Throughout the course, I watched my classmates and acquaintances from high school developing friendships, some of which evolved into romantic relationships. Meanwhile, I felt stuck, wondering if things would ever be different.

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Another challenge, one that I never saw coming, awaited. Read all about it in Chapter 6.