Last week, I told you how our first salaries almost caused us heart attacks. That was during the mid-90s when Aggrey and I had landed some jobs at an NGO based somewhere in Gikondo.

When our fingers received the dollars, they started to dance to the tunes of dombolo. This was not due to joy and merriment of receiving our first salaries. The fingers had never touched anything like this before. 

We were no longer poor lads from Kiyovu of the poor. We were going to be rich! During those miserable days, Aggrey and I would have to spend about three months cultivating seriously.

We would look for funds from all possible sources. Since we were very single at that time, ladies were always on the hunt for us. They would always demand for high class treatment.

If we were lucky, our ladies would settle for a bottle of Fanta. One would ask for a Fanta called Koka, while the other would order for Fanta called "Orange”.

This category is one that most bachelors dread. It is the category in which the lady beckons the waiter and places an order.

Instead of ordering for a bottle of mineral water or indeed koka ikonje, the lady proceeds to spell out a name of a drink which sounds very Russian.

In the middle of her sentence, you may pick out words such as; cocktails, Beringer Blass, Wolf Blass, Yellowglen, Jamiesons Run, Castello di Gabbiano and many more different tribes.

By the time she is through with her mini speech, you find yourself sweating profusely. You would be sweating due to a severe pang of panic as a result of your weeping pockets.

Sometimes, we would feel a strong temptation to run away from the place so as to avoid settling such high bills. The leeway always came in form of the waiter’s wise words; "Madam, we do not sell such drinks here”.

Wow, as we rubbed our hands in glee, the ladies would come up with more demands. That was the order of the day for Aggrey and I– until everything changed when we received our first salaries. This time, it was going to be a blast for us…

Contact: diaspoman@yahoo.com