I rarely miss events at the Kwetu Film Institute but that has got nothing to do with any special acquaintance with the owner, Eric Kabera. On the contrary, it’s because of the sausages from the Kwetu Residence Inn, also owned by Kabera and located in the same compound with the film school. Forget Simba Supermarket and forget La Galette: The best sausages in the entire Great Lakes region are to be found at Kwetu. And because of this, and before we move on to the heart of this article, I would like to hear by publicly suggest a remix to the Kwetu brand: It should now be called Kwetu Yacu, just like the Bank of Kigali. On to more serious stuff now. I was at Kwetu last week to dig into their sausages as usual, but before doing this, my appetite had to be boosted, therefore I ‘stole’ two bottles of Skol Lager for the purpose. There are two Skol brands on the market and just before you get confused, Skol lager is the Skol in a tall elegant yellow-necked bottle. The ones that sausage addicts at the Simba Supermarket in Kimihurura like to wash down their fat sausages with. After a few sips of my Skol, I surrendered the bottles to my friend who also happens to be a student at Kwetu. His colleagues and other guests would soon accost him with the question of how on earth he had ended up with beer that was supposed to be for the “badman”. They really wanted to know if and how he knows me – a known, incorrigible and unrepentant “badman”. Done with their colleague, they now turned to me –tasking me to explain who a badman is and what makes one a “badman”. Well, I will explain. I will explain because I’m not a coward. I’m not a coward because cowardice is not a part of badman levity. Of course I see the need to explain the word “livity”, which simply means “life”. So why did I not simply say “badman life” in the first place? Because, because … A real badman is seen from the type of shoes he wears. What we want here is something that’s ruff, tuff, and rugged. Like Didier Drogba. Of course I had to pick on Drogba. He is the only dude I know whose physique and game and name are all ruff, tuff and rugged in equal measure. So a real badman puts on tuff boots –the ones that can imitate the sound of Drogba’s name when one is walking along the stone roads of Remera and Kimihurura and Biryogo in Nyamirambo. Another thing a badman does not sit down in a barber chair, a badman begs no friend for his car keys and a badman begs no friend for a nice crib. Lastly, a badman does not go to a pizza house.
