Aggrey is not alone when it comes to bride-searching. I have also been in this terrible fix for a very long time. Ever since I returned to my motherland, I have faced this mountain of a problem. In fact the most pressing problem is that my elders in the village are on the verge of banning me from the entire clan. I have failed to bring them a “gift”. This gift is none other than a mugyeni. The old folks scold me at every opportunity available. They claim that I have serious visual problems. How on earth have my eyes failed to “fall” on a future bride, when young ladies are swarming the entire village? How come all my age mates are happily married whereas me, a rich man all the way from the Diaspora is still cuddling a pillow all night long? These very people claim that I am rich, because of my stay in the Diaspora. The truth of the matter is that I couldn’t even failed afford my one-way ticket. A soft loan from Aggrey got me here. He had been kind enough to send me some dollars by Western Union. I remember the expression on the teller’s face, when I approached her for the cash. After handing in my passport and password, the teller posed a very straight question. “How come you are the one receiving cash from Africa instead of the other way round?” I was at a loss for words! Anyway, I am back in Rwanda and still facing this mountain of a challenge. My friends have confided in me that the real reason behind this pressure is that the old men in the village are looking for an opportunity to wet their throats. Such functions are simple excuses for the old men and women to gather and crush bottles of booze as they brag about their herds of cattle. It is with the background that I found myself hunting for a future bride. Aggrey has been well rooted in the society and it did not take him very long to identify a potential wife for me. He arranged for a meeting at his mansion. We were left alone for some hours to get acquainted. Within a short time, I had discovered that she was a savdee. This was good news to me. So as part of the deal, I had to escort her to church, the following Sunday. Church? Wow! It was when I was 14 years old that I had last stepped in church. Well, Sunday morning was upon me. My new catch and I were ushered in to this makeshift structure that was supposed to be the church. The congregation was already in high spirits as they sang and rejoiced for the lord. Apparently, my face was very new among the people and the pastor. That is why I was taken straight to the front bench and treated as a VIP. The pastor roared out a victorious Alleluia as he introduced me to the crowd. He then asked the congregation to pray for me, a new soul, so that all demons and curses are driven out from me, once and for all. They prayed so hard that the roof almost flew off the building. Then it was that time again for praising. Little had I known that this would be the undoing of my wedding plans! I made this decision to abandon my future bride just because of the carbon gas that hit my nose like a pang. You see, the faithful are obliged to wave their hands high in the sky, as they sing praises to Jesus. It was at this point that a strong unpleasant perfume escaped from the Kyana’s armpit, as she waved and thanked the lord for this new day. I decided that this new day would be her minus me. That is why I was seen sprinting away from the makeshift church like a mad man. Contact: diaspoman@yahoo.com
