In my search for a bride, I have hit the ups and downs of life. It has been quite tough for me to get a suitable bride because of several factors. One of these factors is that I have failed to throw away that nice bottle of Amstel.
In my search for a bride, I have hit the ups and downs of life. It has been quite tough for me to get a suitable bride because of several factors. One of these factors is that I have failed to throw away that nice bottle of Amstel.
My attempts at hooking a decent lady from the mushrooming born again churches have failed because of my big appetite for frothy drinks. That is why recently, I was forced to connive with a waiter at one of the cozy restaurants in Kigali.
I had taken a born again lady for a candlelight dinner so that we could plan for the future. The plan was that the waiter would serve me with endless bottles of Coca Cola as my bride to-be would be sipping from a glass of juice.
Indeed, that’s exactly what the waiter did. Only this time, the contents of the Coca Cola were different. Yes! You guessed right.
The Coca Cola bottles were full of frothy liquids all the way from Bralirwa. So as we cuddled up in the cold night, we enjoyed the kindness of our lord as we discussed marriage plans. It was dark and so my date would not easily detect that my bottles of Coca Cola were housing Amstel liquids.
"Honey, I notice you are dinking too much Coca Cola! Can’t you try some juice?”
Ha! Juice? You’ve got to be kidding me. By the time my 7th Coca Cola bottle had arrived, I was no longer talking like a savedee. Instead, I was telling my lady funny words which did not sound sweet in her ears.
I was busy telling her: "Hey big momma! Wazup babe? Is it not time for us to hit the road? Let’s check out Cadillac or KBC!” At this point, my lady was boiling in anger!
She convinced herself that dealing with sinners has to be a very tricky affair. That’s why she dropped on her knees and laid hands on my head.
She then started to bubble out a chain of prayers which were meant to dismiss all the demons from my mind. Thereafter, she left me behind as I openly enjoyed more Amstels.
So, having miserably failed to get a decent chick from these churches, I have recently changed my strategy. I have convinced myself that studies at SFB can be very difficult if I continued to read alone.
I have told myself that I need a reading partner so that when the exams arrive, I can pass them with flying colours. That is how I ended up jumping on a moto all the way from SFB to a University in a place called Mudende.
Although my mission was to search for a reading partner, my true intentions were to seek for a future bride who would answer to the title of Mrs. Diaspoman.
Within a few days, I had already identified a potential reading partner. She was the kind who would become a suitable Mrs. Diaspo.
With time, my visits to Mudende became more and more frequent. I started to take her to the canteen where I would find myself spending cash on fresh milk and chapattis.
On top of that, she would always insist that I buy her airtime from the canteen. I became so hooked that I began spending more than 80% of my time at Mudende instead of SFB.
In fact, some guys began to ask me questions as to whether I had changed schools. "Were you dismissed from SFB?” some would ask. "Oh? No, just passing by to borrow some textbooks,” I’d quickly reply.
Anyways, life was becoming smooth and promising until I started leaving the place late at night. It became quite risky for me to ride on a bike from Mudende to Gikondo. I guess I had to try and upgrade from motos to a real taxi.
But where could I find such cash for a taxi? So instead I negotiated with one particular motorcycle rider. We agreed that he would transport me every night for a modest fee.
So I continued to use a moto all the way from SFB to Mudende and back at night. Only that this time, it was always dark and the moto did not have bright lights to torch into the dark and creepy distance.
The rider therefore couldn’t easily dodge all those potholes, bushes and thorns. Then one night it happened. It had been raining all day and the potholes were full of muddy water.
As the moto negotiated a sharp corner, we met a truck full of sand and bricks speeding down towards us. It splashed mud all over us as we found ourselves rolling through the thorny bushes. It was not fun.
The guys on the truck did not stop. Instead they continued amidst wild laughter. I could neither continue to this campus nor return to my beloved Gikondo. We just sat on the ground staring at each other without uttering a single word…