Why Mfashumwana’s visitor should be more selective

When Mfashumwana hosted his visitor all the way from the U.S, I was more than thrilled to be part of the group who would guzzle nice and tasty frothy products all the way from Bralirwa – courtesy of our visitor! But when Mfashumwana suggested that we head for the most famous Pork joint in town, I sobered up.

When Mfashumwana hosted his visitor all the way from the U.S, I was more than thrilled to be part of the group who would guzzle nice and tasty frothy products all the way from Bralirwa – courtesy of our visitor! But when Mfashumwana suggested that we head for the most famous Pork joint in town, I sobered up.

You see just recently, we heard news about a person who had died in a place called Ruhango, after eating contaminated pork! I told Mfasha to be careful lest our distinguished guest got sick over a pound of pork. Our visitor should be wiser and more selective when it comes to roasted meat! I reminded him about a certain unwanted guest of ours who had suffered serious abdominal pains way back in the 90s. That unwanted guest was none other than the new boss at the NGO where Aggrey and I worked during the mid 90s.  

You see, we used to have a very generous boss who cared less about expenditure. So when a group of auditors arrived from the headquarters, they discovered serious gross mismanagement at the NGO.

This was attributed to the fact that there was no accountability at the NGO. For Aggrey and me, this mismanagement was a blessing to us since we used to draw salary advances without paying them back. Since there was no payroll system, our boss always used to forget to deduct the salary advance.  

Now the new boss had arrived. And she had arrived with big and sweeping changes! A payroll system was introduced immediately. The new boss also put a halt to salary payments in form of US dollars. Instead, we started to receive salaries in Rwanda francs. She scrapped off all other allowances such as overtime payment and entertainment allowances. As a result, Aggrey and I soon became as poor as church mice.

  This lifestyle was not one that we could really sustain. So we decided that our new boss had to go by all means. We decided to attempt everything so that our old boss could return! Was that really going to happen? Only time would tell. Anyways, we continued to strive on and tried to make ends meet.

Then during the month of December, we approached our new boss and explained to her that in the tradition of the NGO, we always threw an end of year party! We told her that the end of year parties was held in posh places such as the Meridian Hotel or Mille Colline Hotel. What was the budget? Oh? Not more than one million francs. “What? Are you crazy? Do you think this is an entertainment company! The only budget I can offer is fifty thousand francs!”   

Phew! This new chief was such a miserable lady! Fifty thousand francs only? Anyways, Aggrey and I were then told to look for a place where we could have an evening out for about Rwf 50,000. The only place which could fit the bill was at a pub situated in Nyamirambo.

The name of this pub was Cosmos. It was a place which was well known for roasting pork. We made the necessary bookings and arrangements for the evening out. We duly informed the boss who promptly authorized the deal.  

Come D-day! We headed to Cosmos for the mega party. But before we started the occasion, Aggrey and I dashed to the kitchen to strike a deal with the cooks. We told them to prepare a special kind of pork which would serve two purposes. The first purpose was to burn our boss’s mouth with lots of red pepper.

The second purpose was to create a serious battle in our boss’s stomach. The cooks agreed to carry out the mission free of charge. So, it was time for the speeches. Our new boss gave a short speech emphasizing on cost cutting. “That is why we have not gone to the big hotels this year. We have to cut costs at all costs!”  

He he he, what she did not know is that she was going to pay in kind. So, when the pork finally arrived, the red pepper burned her lips like there was no tomorrow. Within a few minutes, her stomach had started to rumble in the jungle! Her face became pale. She was very sick! Before long, she was being stretchered off to a waiting car outside which sped off straight to the nearest Nyamirambo dispensary.

As for us, we cheered on in happiness. The dictator had faced her own music. All we could pray for was for our new boss to give up and go back to where she had come from…

 

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