I have now reached a place called Ngozi, deep in Burundi, as I pursue projects to help increase sales for my boss back in Kigali.
Claude has been driving me around in pretense that we are really searching for ICT related contracts.
The truth of the matter is that we are simply acting as tourists in search of frothy drinks. Back in Kigali, my boss is smiling in glee every time he gets updates from me via SMS. I have been transmitting several short messages to inform him about my tour in Burundi, which is accompanied by contract signing ceremonies. I wish he knew!
Anyways, we arrived in Ngozi and I must tell you that for the first time, I have come across real guzzlers of the stuff. When I mention the word stuff, I don’t just mean Amstel and Heineken. No way! I actually mean the white or colorless stuff which we commonly refer to as Dry Gin.
But, this isn’t your ordinary kind of Dry Gin. It is a distant cousin of Dry Gin, so potent that a simple whiff would knock your senses out! It is a homemade Dry Gin indeed!
So, once we arrived, Claude introduced me to some of the elders of the village. We invited the elders to the Haleluya Hotel where we were residing. The elders crushed and clobbered drink after drink and by the time our heads got zonked, it looked like the elders had just started.
That is why they shifted from beers and engaged the high gear called Dry Gin. Claude and I could not take any more and that is why we crawled upstairs to our Haleluya rooms, singing praises of our creator.
The next morning, Claude and I woke up early and agreed that we had to call an ambulance. We were so worried about our distinguished elders of Ngozi. We were convinced that they were probably unconscious and were in dire need of re-hydration.
But to our surprise, we found our guests seated out conversing and looking very fresh. In fact, it was the two of us, who needed urgent medical attention.
Feeling concerned, Claude hurriedly carried 3 bottles of boiled drinking water to the garden. Our elders appeared to be very happy to receive this much-needed water. They competed among themselves as to who would drink first.
Then they all agreed to fill up all their glasses so that they could propose a toast to our good health. What happened in the ensuing minutes left us completely bewildered.
After each guest took a massive swig of the drinking water, they all sprung up from their chairs spitting and cursing. They were really angry and disappointed. What was the matter? Why had they reacted in such a manner? The explanation was simple; our elders thought that the drinking water was nothing else other than Dry Gin! Phew!