When Diaspoman paid a visit to the Clinic

The other day when I was not feeling well, I checked in at a clinic in town. The Doctor was soft spoken. He was an attentive listener indeed. I narrated to him about my stomach pains plus a slight headache.

The other day when I was not feeling well, I checked in at a clinic in town. The Doctor was soft spoken. He was an attentive listener indeed. I narrated to him about my stomach pains plus a slight headache.

What I refused to tell him is that I had guzzled much more than I could handle at the famous Republika! The previous night, I had gone to Republika to meet some old pals from abroad. Whereas I had entered this place in an O.K state, I left it in a K.O state after many hours of boozing and clubbing! If you want to know what K.O means, just Google the names of Mohammed Ali or Mike Tyson. Anyways, here I was narrating to the Doctor about my pains. He then prescribed a few drugs and assured me that I would be fine. As I was leaving his office, the Doctor muttered under his breath these wise words “reduce on your drinking!” AH! How I wish that the Doctors of today could be well mannered like the ones of the mid 90s!

It was during the mid 90s that I encountered a kind Doctor somewhere in Nyamirambo. The circumstances were quite similar to the case described above. You see, Aggrey had taken me to a hidden corner in Nyamirambo where he had claimed that booze and roasted meat was being sold at a great discount! He had urged me to go with him so that he could introduce his fiancée to me.

That Saturday evening, everything was set. The evening was becoming cloudy and cold. We drove downtown to pick Aggrey’s fiancée. At 7pm we had settled for our cold Amstels and continued to guzzle until the head cook approached us for our order.

Aggrey offered to place the order on my behalf. He ordered for a cocktail of food. It included new names that I had never heard before – such as ‘ikidari’, ‘brochette and ‘Zingaro’. We then went in for the kill. I did not know where to start from. I tasted all three types of meat and I could not decide on which was the best of all! They tasted so good that I simply chewed endlessly. I mixed all types and as time passed by, I sort of settled for the ‘Zingaro’. This is actually none other than goat intestines!

The night was simply incredible. Several Amstels down my throat and I was zonked like never before. I do not even remember how I returned home that night. What I remember though, is that the next morning there was a battlefield in my head. There was a terrible feeling – like something was pounding in my server. And it pained so much I could only manage to open one eye!

When I eventually managed to sit up in bed, my stomach released a very big rumble in the jungle. Something just squeezed my tummy from side to side. I slumped back in bed helpless. Still with one eye shut, I reached out for my mobile phone and dialed Ruremesha’s number. This is my taxi driver who was so generous as to drive me around on credit terms. I summoned him home.

Like the loyal guy that he is, he was by my bedside in a jiffy. I was already throwing up in all directions. Ruremesha slid his powerful arms under my back and lifted me like a real paramedic!

Down we sped to the nearest clinic. To my relief, the doctor was not very busy and so I was ushered into his small cubicle. Before he could be through with his pleasantries, I tensely whispered into his left ear about my desire to visit the Gents as my bowels were about to give way! I guess I stayed glued on that seat for a good 30 minutes. It was a visit to hell! Anyhow I was back in the doctor’s room, where he asked me to lie on my back. He picked up a hammer-like gadget and started knocking my abdomen. He started from the left. To the right. To the center. He went on in circles and then stopped. He removed his spectacles and wiped his face. He then turned his face towards me and posed a question “Do you eat a lot of roasted meat?”

No way, I replied. Why ask? Does it have anything to do with the sprinting tummy? Well, the full report was given to me in black and white: “You fellow, you are suffering from acute Amoeba caused by a cocktail of meat”

Wow, I had never heard of Amoeba before. The Doc prescribed some tough tablets and warned me against eating more meat. They were almost 100 tablets and their effects were immense! I rang Aggrey to give him the bad news. His phone at home rang three times but he wasn’t answering. I then asked Ruremesha to drive me to Aggrey’s home so that I could narrate my ordeal.

Upon arrival, I was not entirely surprised to find him in bed. By his side was a basin half filled with water. At this point he threw his weight over and puked like a volcanic mountain. Apparently, he too was suffering from that dreaded Amiba! Those were the days! The Doctor was not as mean as the ones of today! I like a doctor who will blame the roasted meat without mentioning that bottle of the one and only beloved frothy beer!


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