Dr. Dre must have skipped a beat when he created Beats because the way university students are embracing his company, one would be forgiven to think they are on attachment.
These sons of the soil will walk all over campus with their 24 $ Beats By Dre Bluetooth stereo speakers putting them at high volume for all and sundry to listen. Never mind that some of them have no clue whatever is playing and the closest to rhythm they have is a half-walk, half-limp, saggy-trousers-cowboy-undies kind of gait.
They will play all kinds of music, leggae, lagga, lythm, lock, LnB…name it. They will sing along to these songs, in groups of 14 men on extended dry-spell thinking that they are impressing the ladies, with their deep hoarse voices that could easily replace a sand paper in woodwork.
They think they are the first to discover Beats By Dre speakers and will let everyone know about how loud and heavy their portable noise siren is. God forgive you if they pass near you because you will wish you had donated your ear-drums to the university choir. Even if you are just from the CU choir, you end up cramming a whole verse in Fetty Wap’s Trap Queen; coming up with a remix that sells more than the original.
They are all over: At the Stage, Hostels, forests, bars, clubs, churches; heck they are probably standing behind you now with a fake snap back, ruggedly torn jeans, grey Wiz Khalifa sweatshirt that has had more owners than Airtel and a cream-white Kshs 2,000 ear bombs.
Some of these flashy Beats By Dre audio pills are so fake if you look carefully you will see a picture of Waiganjo right next to it. And if you look more carefully you will see Waiganjo holding a picture of their birth certificate.
These are the same folks who will feel entitled, shoving you off the academic highways, feeling like the world belongs to their uncle, walking in groups of Ali Baba and the 40 thieves. They will shove cars off the main road, demanding to be treated like they own a Mitsubishi yet the only car they will ever drive is Footsubishi and the closest to a Subaru they will ever get is a leg-acy.
Proud is their last name and Always their first. Ask them what they want to be when they leave university and they’d probably go…’I don’ wanna be famous, I just wanna be rich; 40 mil’ with some acres; make up for my bi**h, I don’t fudge with these nig*as, stop pretending they’re sh*t; I don’ wanna be famous, I just wanna be rich!’
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