Bird hunter in ‘police custody’ for hunting in police grounds

Courting trouble is always a specialty for any bird hunter worth his credentials. And in this case, the higher you go, the ‘troubler’ it becomes. One thing I would like you to know, and have no doubt about it whatsoever, is the fact that the other name for birds is trouble. So, when you are hunting for birds, and here I will insist that it’s any bird so you won’t underestimate and be complacent, just know you are hunting in trouble filled forests. 

Courting trouble is always a specialty for any bird hunter worth his credentials. And in this case, the higher you go, the ‘troubler’ it becomes. One thing I would like you to know, and have no doubt about it whatsoever, is the fact that the other name for birds is trouble. So, when you are hunting for birds, and here I will insist that it’s any bird so you won’t underestimate and be complacent, just know you are hunting in trouble filled forests. 

That is how, as I told you last week, I survived so many setbacks including maximum bottle detention in Igweee! Land, which would have effectively rendered me demobilized (implying that you would not be reading my escapades here on this third rate column), only to fall into more trouble upon arrival back home.

After what I went through, I expect you to think that I would have left the airport and went straight home to rest and get over my troubles. That is what anyone would do. But then folks, I am not anyone!

Having liberated myself from all the turbulence in Igweee! Land, I couldn’t think of any other way of getting over it than joining my compatriots to celebrate liberation day.

On my part, I would be celebrating twice, if you know what I am saying. What’s more, killing two birds with one stone has always been my style.

That is how I found myself at stade Amahoro dressed in my T-shirt printed in the National Flag colours and in a celebrating mood.

I would like to emphasize here that my intentions that day were purely to celebrate my survival in Nigeria and of course the annual National Liberation Day, although deep down I knew that I could not help it if something ‘birdy’ came up.

Of course the stadium was full of presentable birds but I tried to restrain myself not to go beyond the show of my respects by making a little bow as I headed to an empty seat.

Several bows and smiles later I was comfortably seated in my seat, ready to enjoy all the entertainment on offer and I knew there would be plenty as usual, including the parade by the armed forces.

But then, as much as I do enjoy seeing soldiers and policemen do their thing, it had never occurred to me that I would ever get personally involved.

I am not talking about joining the parade and marching along with the soldiers and police because I would make a very horrible scene I know. I am talking about getting emotionally involved.

Well, the preceding entertainment was top class, and this includes listening to the one and only Mu-seti trying his Kinyarwanda and narrating how he tried in vain to wake Habyara-god from deep slumber to inform him that his country had been invaded.

This was very good entertainment indeed.
Then came the parade.

I joined the crowd in applauding the armed forces as they marched energetically past the VIP podium.

I started wondering how these guys have changed their marching style. Before, I used to enjoy seeing them throw their legs high in the air, almost hitting their foreheads but these days they have changed.

As I was busy thinking about the change in marching styles the announcer talking about a section led by one captain Chantal and I was like wow! A real Rwandan bird commanding! How I wished the leg throwing style was still in use!

As I was watching afande Chantal do her thing, I heard the announcer talking about something to do with an only-birds-section of the police parade.

I was seated at the far end of the VIP podium and therefore could not see clearly until they were right opposite where I was seated.

That is when my mind started racing and my jaw dropped. Afande Maria had not only assembled a very physically fit section of birds but also very good looking ones.

That is when my mind went to work and imaginations started running wild.

I started imagining winning the heart of an armed forces bird, one with pips on her shoulders. This is something I have never tried at all in all my escapades.

That is when I convinced myself that this is an adventure worth trying before I die (with an armed bird you never know what would happen, you know).

I imagined going out with a bird whose other name is afande and doing intimate things together, etc, etc. The more I imagined, the more I convinced myself that this was doable.

That is how after all was over, I ventured out and went to where the parade crew was assembling to be transported to where they were supposed to continue with the celebration.

That is when I spotted one very presentable bird and what’s more, she had three stars on her shoulders. I zeroed in on her and started a conversation, informing her how she had excelled in the parade and that I felt indebted if I had gone without congratulating her.

That did the trick because she opened up to me and we started talking freely until the army truck arrived to take them.

That is when she dropped the bombshell. She invited me to join her for a drink at the police officer’s club where the liberation celebration would be taking place.
I accepted the offer without hesitation.

That was the mistake I made. When we arrived at the police officer’s mess we joined a few others who had arrived and had already started enjoying themselves. Afande bird told me to feel free and niji-enjoy to the maximum.

This was a wrong order because I took it literally. I grabbed a drink and started sipping as we talked. I grabbed another and another until I started feeling at ease.

That’s when I started being conscious of my surroundings. That’s how I saw several other birds around me who looked very edible. It was while I was staring at one particular bird that had captured my attention when I heard the main bird, almost in a dream, telling me that she was going somewhere and she would not take a while. I just nodded without even looking at her.

After she had left I decided to mingle. I went and joined a group of uniformed and ‘pipped’ birds and started to stir them up. Since there was music, I started showing them the latest strokes, especially when mugati gwa bata was played.

The birds were really enjoying my company and even forgot they were still donning their uniforms. Our group became the centre of attention and I could see some guys with red collars looking at us enviously.

That is exactly when trouble erupted. Afande bird came back but this time she had handcuffs in her hands. She put them on my hands and led me away.

She did not take me to ‘brigade’ as you expect. She led me to her place in the police quarters and gave me serious tongue-beating for being a naughty boy.

I hope I will have recovered from the beating to catch you next week.

Ends


 

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