Sharp shooter: The day my boss was inconsolable

If you think your teacher is tough, wait until you get a boss. This is an old adage that I came face to face with in the late 1960s, as an intern at one of the publications in the region.

If you think your teacher is tough, wait until you get a boss. This is an old adage that I came face to face with in the late 1960s, as an intern at one of the publications in the region.

I knew what I wanted to be right from childhood and that was a journalist immediately after high school, I joined this publication as an intern and in time I was confirmed as staff and it’s here where I met Mr. Jopheth Bagabo who would soon be my editor, hence the boss.

He was an outstanding editor from the start and we struck a good working relationship with this huge compatriot of mine (he was a Rwandan exile who had made it in life) hence advising and guiding me, hopefully on grounds of compatriotism.

Fast forward, two years down the road, the editor who was in his late 20s meets this young lady called Susan Lamunu who happened to be a mutual friend.

The chemistry hit it off immediately between my boss and my high school O.G (Old Girl) all without my knowledge until one evening when I was introduced to Jopheth by Susan to his total surprise. He surprised I knew his new catch but being the good chap he was, he took it lightly, after all I was not about to do any mischief.

We exchanged contacts with Susan after close to three years without seeing each other. In the 60s there was no telephone or internet so it was postal address but all in all it was effective. And the rest of the evening was filled with beers and Nyama Choma.

Knowing Susan well for over three years in high school, I doubted her claims during a private conversation I had with her when Bagabo had gone for a short call that she was “ready to settle” down with my boss. I however gave her the benefit of the doubt since I had not seen her in a long time.

I downed my last swallow at around 11:00pm and headed straight home since I was still living under dad’s roof leaving the couple a bit tipsy and feeling as though they were on seventh heaven.

I never got much updates about the progress of the relationship but going by Jopheth facial expression all was good and Susan sent me a few postcards and I never heard from her again until after about seven months when she sent me a card inviting me for her wedding.

“Her wedding!! Was it with Bagabo??” I had so many questions running through my mind “may be she had not changed her man hopping behaviour of high school?” I asked my self again.

Do you approach your boss with this kind of question? What if he was heartbroken and there you were uttering your bogus inquiries? You would find your dismissal letter on your desk the following morning. So I just held my peace and waited for the ultimate outcome.
During that period, boss developed quick mood swings at work prompting our Managing Editor to offer him a one week off duty but it didn’t help so much and that’s when I smelt a rat.

He was this huge young man who played cricket and football so well that he never thought a girl would ever break his heart but Susan did just that.

My boss shrunk at worrying pace and one evening, he approached me crying like a baby “your friend can’t be serious, I gave her my whole heart and she just shattered it like cheap china ware!”

I feigned ignorance. “What do you mean?” I asked.

 “Am talking about Susan, she is marrying another man. Imagine her cruelty, she sent me an invitation to the wedding yet the other day she was prophesying undying love for me,” he cried out loud.

I felt sorry for my boss but could not help much since I didn’t control Susan’s choice in matrimony. Weeks later, he resigned from work and I have not seen him since. His inconsolable face is forever imprinted in my mind.

So my little brothers and sisters advice is “give all the love but not the whole heart.” 


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