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Fadzai Maposah
Correspondent

Getting a place to study Print Journalism at the Division of Mass Communication was a wonderful opportunity for me.

I was very happy to join the class of people who were geared to become scribes that were focused on producing high quality news.

Gaining a place at the Division of Mass Communication also had another dimension.

Finally, after six years of separation, I was getting a chance to learn with the male species again! It had been a great period of separation indeed!

Although girls who are elated to be with the boys like me did not host celebration parties, we were over the moon.

Suddenly it appeared that there were more males than females wherever we went.

Or maybe we noticed the males more? It took a lot of adjusting seeing males all over college. I had to adjust to being in the same class as the boys again.

The last experience of having male classmates had been in Grade 7 back in the Lowveld, Chiredzi. Now this was, Harare, the capital city of Zimbabwe.

All I can say is that the initial days were a struggle, a real struggle.

Other girls who had been in co-sex high schools were at ease with the Mass Communication environment.

While some of us were still finding our feet, they were grounded and taking it all in good stride. While we were amazed at having to sit next to the male students, the other girls did not seem fascinated at all.

Who could blame us, it had been a six-year absence.

Sitting in Madison Square and talking to fellow students, especially the male counterparts during tea breaks was great.

As aptly named, Madison Square with its benches provided an environment for the much needed smoke breaks.

Madison Square again proved that we had graduated from high school where even just a hint of cigarette smoke on an individual would mean that the parents were summoned to school for a hearing.

Hearing lecturers say that smoke breaks were allowed and that anyone who needed a cigarette could just go outside and come back after the ritual was complete, was new music to our ears.

It was like, yes Zimbabwe had attained independence in 1980, but upon leaving high school we had attained more independence!

I value the orientation days that are conducted in tertiary institutions. They are critical in helping the students avoid a bumpy landing!

Imagine the things that can go wrong as one moves from Sisi (Matron) Rose locking the hostel door and getting to college where the entrance door to the hostel is not locked.

One thing that we used to do as journalism trainees was sit outside the hostel talking on the brick work that leads to the hostel.

While we talked and discussed what was in the news, we could also see who was leaving the hostels or vice versa. There were students who were formally dressed as they went to their lectures, there were those who were in casual wear, some in too casual wear.

Others who were technical would be in overalls of different shades and colours.

Those days it was the one piece overall that was worn, the works suit that we have today had not hit the market.

And with time we learnt that certain behaviours could be linked to the department that one was in.

The ones who were training to be what was then termed secretaries, the office managers now, would be formally dressed with some in heels as they went to their classes.

I had an opportunity of sharing a room with one from this department. She was always amazed at how fast I was when getting ready for class.

I always tried explaining how boarding school had trained me, but she did not accept that.

As a young lady, she expected that I would have time for make-up and a bit more `grooming` according to her standards. She worried that I would end up as an adult tom boy.

One term I had an older room mate who was already employed. She used to `mother` me.  That term my friends and I would as soon as `mother` came into our room, go to another room where we would talk loudly or dance to some music.

On her pay day, my room-mate would always buy me a treat. If I was not in the room, she would put the treat on my desk.

I loved her pay days and when on some weekends I went home I was sure to bring her something from home, in most cases muffins.

After having a meal in the dining hall, my friends and I would during weekends just sit and talk about anything and everything.

On some occasions, when the study pressure was low, we would only get up to leave when the staff would be closing the doors.

As I was walking out one evening being the last one of my friends, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned and looked up at the male student with bewildered teenage eyes.

“You should go and attend to your dress,” he began calmly.

The teenage eyes became bigger.

“There has been some accident,” he added.

My heart sank. Why now? An `it` experience mishap! With trembling hands, I turned my dress. He pointed. I looked.

Then I saw the stain around the hem line. I looked at him and then said “Thank you. It’s a mazhanje stain.”

“Oh better then,” he said calmly. “I remember stains from high school. So, I thought it was such a stain. So just that you know, I have seen such accidents at home, my sisters.”

Then he walked away. Holding onto my dress, I ran after my friends. I never wore that dress at college again but the statement “You should go and attend to your dress” was the start of a great friendship!