Diaspoman: In search of reading or running mates

When I was still at SFB, I tried to convince myself that getting married would enable me stabilize and indeed pass my mature entry exams in Econometrics and Statistics! So, in my search for a bride, I hit the ups and downs of life. It had been quite tough for me to get a suitable bride because of several factors. One of these factors is that I had failed to throw away that nice bottle of Amstel.

When I was still at SFB, I tried to convince myself that getting married would enable me stabilize and indeed pass my mature entry exams in Econometrics and Statistics! So, in my search for a bride, I hit the ups and downs of life. It had been quite tough for me to get a suitable bride because of several factors. One of these factors is that I had failed to throw away that nice bottle of Amstel. My attempts at hooking a decent lady from the mushrooming born-again churches had failed because of my big appetite for frothy drinks. That is why I was once forced to connive with a waiter at one of the cozy restaurants in Kigali. I had taken a born-again lady for a candlelit dinner so that we could plan for the future. 

The plan was that the waiter would serve me with endless bottles of Coca Cola as my “bride to-be” would be sipping from a glass of juice. Indeed, that’s exactly what the waiter did. Only this time, the contents of the Coca Cola were different. Yes! You guessed right! The Coca Cola bottles were full of frothy liquids all the way from Bralirwa. So, as we cuddled up in the cold night, we enjoyed the kindness of our lord as we discussed marriage plans. It was dark and so my date would not easily detect that my bottles of Coca Cola were housing Amstel liquids. “Honey, I notice you are drinking too much Coca Cola! Can’t you try some juice?” 

Ha! Juice? You’ve got to be kidding me. By the time my 7th Coca Cola bottle had arrived, I was no longer talking like a savdee. Instead, I was telling my lady funny words, which did not sound sweet in her ears. I was busy telling her: “Hey big momma! Wazup babe? Is it not time for us to hit the road? Let’s check out Cadillac or KBC!” At this point, my lady was boiling in anger! She convinced herself that dealing with sinners has to be a very tricky affair. That’s why she dropped on her knees and laid hands on my head. She then started to bubble out a chain of prayers which were meant to dismiss all the demons from my mind. Thereafter, she left me behind as I openly enjoyed more Amstels. 

So, having miserably failed to get a decent chick from these churches, I changed my strategy. I convinced myself that studies at SFB would be very difficult if I continued to read alone. I told myself that I needed a reading partner so that when the exams arrived, I could pass them with flying colours. That is how I ended up jumping on a moto all the way from SFB to UNILAK, which is a sister University in Kigali. Although my mission was to search for a reading partner, my true intentions were to seek for a future bride who would eventually answer to the title of Mrs Diaspoman. 

UNILAK Campus is in and around the Kicuciro area so it was easy for me to jump on a moto which would transport me from Gikondo SFB to UNILAK. Within a few days, I had already identified a potential reading partner. She was the kind who would become a suitable Mrs. Diaspo. With time, my visits to UNILAK became more and more frequent. I started to take her to the UNILAK canteen where I would find myself spending cash on fresh milk and chapattis. On top of that, she would always insist that I buy her airtime from the canteen. I became so hooked that I began spending more than 80 per cent of my time at UNILAK instead of SFB. 

In fact, some guys began to ask me questions as to whether I had changed schools. “Were you dismissed from SFB?” Oh? No, just passing by to borrow some textbooks. I had begun to really enjoy my escapades to UNILAK until the time when I faced the wrath of rains and muddy roads. Yes, on one of my visits to UNILAK, I jumped on a moto as some drops of rain visited the land. It was not so pleasing for me! 

As the moto negotiated a sharp corner, we met a truck full of sand speeding down towards us. Instantly, the truck splashed mud all over us as we found ourselves rolling through the thorny bushes. It was not fun, I tell you! The guys on the truck did not stop. Instead, they continued amidst wild laughter. I could neither continue to UNILAK campus nor return home. We just sat on the ground staring at each other without uttering a single word… 

 

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