Happy Easter-Sunday, folks! And sorry that Easter-Monday, unlike elsewhere, is a working day here. So, Jesus died for our sins but we need someone to die for our rent; someone in whose name we can be saved from Kigali’s landlords who’re endemically contumacious to logic.

I have come to a rather repugnant conclusion that, there are aliens from Jupiter living with us in this city; these aliens are so rich that they have pushed housing inflation through the concrete rooftops of the beautiful newly built apartments littered everywhere!

As I sifted through the day’s newspaper on Wednesday morning, I came across an attractive advert; it was of apartment units located in the city centre about three blocks away from my workplace; it would be a seven minute walk to office, a perfect escape from the morning traffic jam.

It was 9am. I dialed the number of the salesman indicated in the advert. The phone rang for close to forty seconds; most ordinary salesmen would be awake at this time of the day and certainly pick up on the first ring. This one was different.

Finally, a croaky  voice of a male person, sounding like he had been woken up from his sweet morning sleep, picked up the call and snapped on the other side, in a rather bored tone, ‘hello, how can I help you?’

There was no excitement in his voice at all. The kind of excitement expected of every salesman to have, either naturally or at least faked, whenever speaking to a potential customer. From his accent, I deduced that he was European.

I apologized for interrupting his morning sleep. He forgave me. I then explained the purpose of the call; he acknowledged the advert and confirmed that they indeed had vacant apartments for long-term occupation.

Being unmarried, yet, I figured a one bedroomed apartment with a living room and a kitchenette would not only be appropriate but also affordable.

"That would be US$2000 a month,” the salesman announced! I went silent for what might have been close to a minute.

During that time, I was lost in thought, the figure of two thousand dollars a month for a one bedroom apartment bounced in my head like a ball, creating a loud echo in my mind, $2000 a month, $2000 a month, $2000 a month…for a one bedroom apartment!

"Hello, hello, are you there?” The salesman’s voice had been momentarily lost in the echo; images of shiny green dollar bills were flying in my head. I had totally forgotten that I was in the middle of a conversation with someone on the other end!

"Yes Sir. I am on the line.” I answered.

My scattered mind was trying to imagine what kind of apartment that looked like; it probably had a floating bed with automatic sleep buttons, 20G supersonic internet and a maid from mars to look after the tenant.

From the other end, the voice explained: The apartment is fully furnished. Free Wi-Fi, {minus a wife}. Free laundry services (free?), a great view of the city from the balcony plus a modern gym for residents. There’s no discount.

I should have fainted. But I was at work.

Who the hell affords these places? What do they do? How thick are their cash flows? Must be so fast it creates a waterfall so strong that it generates for them several megawatts of ‘cash-tricity’ daily. Do they pay taxes? Our nation should bid farewell to donor budget support soon, then.

These can’t be ordinary beings like the rest of us, no. They must be aliens from Jupiter.

See, I have a bunch of friends, all very respectable young gentlemen and ladies with good degrees, good jobs, and salaries well above the country’s market average, they drive nice cars and can afford several bottles of Heineken priced at Rwf2500; but none of them could afford $2k a month, for a single room apartment.

At a time, when the nation’s foreign currency reserves are feeling the pinch, only aliens could afford to pay thousands of dollars every month in utility bills.

"Thank you, sir, for the information. I will call you after making up my mind,” I told the salesman before ending the call feeling utterly dazed.

My colleague Dean Karemera recently wrote a feature about fancy cars on Kigali’s roads and noted that most of their owners don’t even have a house. Hey Dean, you know the truth.

These cars are way cheaper than owning a house in Kigali let alone renting one. As long as developers continue building for aliens from Jupiter, we shall see more of those fancy cars because while owners are proud of the car they drive, the same can’t be said of where they live.

Hello policy makers? What is the point of dollar-rated bills in an economy where everyone earns in francs?

Transport and housing are the most important factors in the life of an urban dweller. We have fuel prices regulated, how about we did the same for housing?

editorial@newtimes.co.rw