DIASPOMAN : When I met my match at the Capital Pub

Recently, I went to Kampala for a mini mission. Yes indeed, I had earned myself a small assignment from one of Aggrey’s rich friends who had pity on me. So, in order to pay me some cash to keep me going through this harsh Kigali life, I had to do something in return. He sent me to Kampala to buy some spare parts for his shop.

Recently, I went to Kampala for a mini mission. Yes indeed, I had earned myself a small assignment from one of Aggrey’s rich friends who had pity on me.

So, in order to pay me some cash to keep me going through this harsh Kigali life, I had to do something in return. He sent me to Kampala to buy some spare parts for his shop.

Well, once in Kampala, I didn’t waste any time – I mean I hit the roads that headed those ever popular Kampala pubs. On the first night, I was joined by my friend called Pato and our taxi driver where we proceeded to swallow substantial amounts of booze.

Consequently, the taxi driver failed to behave like a normal person. The Uganda Waragi in his head forced him into driving towards undesired directions.

Instead of taking the road towards Pato’s house in Kitintale, he first spent about 10 minutes driving round and round the Mulago roundabout.

Eventually, after failing to decide which road to take, the driver stepped on his accelerator and meandered all the way to a place called Kabalagala. 

Meanwhile, Pato was snoozing like a baby in the hind seat. He was so peaceful, snoring all the way as the crazy driver swerved the car and parked it at this incredibly vibrant joint known as Capital Pub.

It had clocked 4am. People were still enjoying their ice cold beers plus some roasted meat. Others were dancing and jumping.

In the far corner, there was a group of mean looking fellows playing a game of snooker. Our driver had forgotten that we had hired him to drive us for the evening. Instead, he somehow thought that he was the MD of a big corporation. That is why he headed straight to the counter and ordered for a double on the rocks.

When the bar attendant requested him for ‘order with cash’, the driver sobered up. He realized that the person who could wet his throat was none other than Pato. We then joined in at the counter where we continued to clobber bottle after bottle.

Pato seemed to have his way around quite comfortably. Besides he could speak the local language much more fluently than me. He also had many friends around.

Before I knew it, Pato had vanished with his friends in the crowded place. I stayed with the driver doing justice to the bottles. He then asked me whether I needed company. He winked his eye and I immediately guessed what he was referring to.  

I tried to refuse but within a few minutes, the driver came along with two ladies. He then whispered to them in the local language.

I could not catch all the words but it appears that the driver was saying “This time ladies, I have brought you a real muzungu from Kigali. If you fail to de-tooth this one, then I will give up on you.

He is loaded with real dollars!”
 Wow, so this lousy driver was busy setting me up for Kampala de-toothers? As if I had not experienced enough before with a certain Diaspo chick that travelled with me in the bus from Kigali?  

I vowed not to be tricked again. So I stayed alert as the 2 chicks joined us at the counter. I pushed my mobile phone down inside my pants! I also pushed my small remaining shilling notes into my socks. I was not going to be looted again. After ensuring that everything was intact, we resumed our small time talk and drink.

The ladies acted innocent indeed. In fact they really surprised me when they chose to drink sodas! All along, I thought that they would order for expensive whiskies.

I was prepared to let them guzzle as much whisky as they liked at their own risk. I was ready to flee the place and leave them stranded! I was already planning to de-tooth them! 

But when they ordered for sodas, I felt guilty. I knew for sure that these were innocent girls who just wanted to have company.

So, I encouraged them to take some Tuskers on my account. We continued to converse and exchange information. They were eager to learn more about our beautiful Rwanda. I poured my heart out as I heaped praise upon praise about Rwanda.

Then I excused myself for a couple of minutes to go and ‘ease’ myself in the toilets.

When I reached the Gents, I was surprised to see the two ladies follow me inside! They removed their hair wigs. They removed their stiletto shoes. They removed their fake bras. OH GOSH, they were not girls! They were real men and here they were ready to show me dust. 

Within the next five minutes, these two guys had turned me upside down and emptied all my contents including the phone from my panty and my cash from my socks.

They slapped me around before dashing out leaving behind their fake female attire. I was cooked. I cursed as I prepared to search for Pato.

He had to take me straight to the Bus Park and give me money to enable me board the Kigali bound bus!
  
diaspoman@yahoo.com

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