In many African tribes, circumcision is part and parcel of everyday life.  These days, it is becoming next to law, to have all men shed their "gu-skins” in a bit to control the spread of the deadly "SIDA”.

This is an incentive of a sort, to induce the males into this practice.
By the way, Jesus Christ himself was circumcised (this is not
blasphemy).  Many people associated circumcision with the Islamic faith.

I remember when I contemplated to have the exercise carried out on me, I decided to inform the one and only "Chain Keeper”, the first though in her mind was to ask me if I was planning to become a member of the Islamic faith (no malice intended)!  Though all Moslems are circumcised, not all the circumcised are necessarily of that faith. 

The year was 2001, the month  omewhere between January and December of that year.  While at Car Wash a.k.a. Roasters, one of the drinking joints in Kigali, we visited the "gents” and one of my friends peeped at my male anatomy and ridiculed me that, "an uncircumcised will not go to heaven”! 

As they say, a man must stand up to any challenge.  That same night, I narrated this ordeal to two of my friends, a one "Ahamed Karzai” and "Akbar Kamhar” (those are the sets of names they chose), their reasoning was that, they would never be the same guys again and  hence the need for new sets of names. 

We made an appointment with the "cutter” a one Abel (not related to Cain) who operated from Nyamijos, somewhere near the famous "Tapis Rouge”.  We decided to go there on a Friday evening just after work, reasoning was that, we would rest and recuperate in the next two days.  Otherwise, how would one go to work with a limp "leg”? 

Furthermore, we chose a date that was in the middle of the month in order not to miss the fun that comes with the month’s end.

On the fateful Friday the trio (Ahamed, Akbar and Mfashumwana)
"ascended” upon Abel’s workplace, he had already arranged his tools of the trade. 

Being one against the three of us, he sort of used an
alphabetic formula in that, Akbar was to come first, then Ahamed and lastly Mfashumwana. 

We were sent to a waiting room, the first one was picked and two of us remained behind.  The waiting was more painful than the "knife” itself.  After about an hour or so, Ahamed was called in and I was left in the room alone. 

I had to wait for nearly two more hours as Abel was diverted from operating on his fellow men to going to the maternity wing where a pregnant lady had to be operated upon and he had to take part. 

When he was done, I was ushered into the theatre room.   Just a second, before entering, I was taken to a room where I had to shed and leave all my clothing.  I was given a khaki wrapper as the only item allowed in the theatre.

Abel descended upon me mercilessly, he began by giving two painless injections at the points where my gadget intersects with the rest of the anatomy and with his sterile pair of scissors, he began cutting off the "chaff” with all the disdain it deserved! I wasn’t feeling anything.

Looking through an overhead mirror (that looked like a huge driving
mirror), I was amazed at the miniature size of the "ka-thing”, it had
really retreated, alahu akbar!   Abel must have been a tailor of a sort, with a thread and needle; he began stitching what was left of the skin.

By the time he was halfway, I had lost the effect of the "kinya”
(anaesthesia) and I was rising with each pierce and pull of the tread.
The pain was bad, but the thought of having become a man and later on, the increased chances of going to Heaven was sweeter.

Ends