Bird hunting calls for adequate possession of military skills and yours truly has more than enough of them, never mind that most of them were acquired from two prominent armies from two good neighbouring countries. I am not willing to divulge more on this statement.....absolutely no comment to the Press, thank you.

Anyway, the topic on the table is my tactical withdrawal. You must have noted that I was conspicuously absent from the STMag pages last Sunday, didn’t you? Well, let me assume that you definitely did. Well, I wasn’t sick or in hiding as some speculated.

Rather, I found it in the best interest of my otherwise good image to take a tactical withdrawal so that the dust raised by one Alpha alias Numero Uno can settle down a bit.

You see, ever since this mulokore chap cast aside sentiments towards alcohol in his Church and participated in a music competition organised by brewers of one of the most popular beers (definitely not among the mulokores) in East and Central Africa and went ahead to beat all the odds to win the stiff competition by majority of votes (mine included), life has not been the same in Kigali.

Everyone has been talking about nothing else but Alpha and how he is a hero, blah blah blah. I even overheard a motari suggest that Alpha should be put on the list of national heroes, Imena category! Can you imagine? 

I have done a lot of international bird hunting duties which if evaluated by a fair minded bird hunting judge would merit a national medal but nobody has ever mentioned even my name on the streets, let alone a public gathering and now people are talking about putting Alpha on the heroes’ list? I am very disappointed indeed!

The other day I was seated with my own sister at home and I was trying to persuade her to try and convince birds at her school to grasp hard on reality and realise that Alpha is just a musician and not a magician but before I could finish what I was saying, TVR decided that this was the best time to repeat an interview it had had with the same chap.

I was forced to go to my bedroom and lock myself in as the bird that is my sister started jumping up and down like she was possessed shouting "Alpha, Alpha!”.

Now you understand why I found it necessary to take cover for some time before making a comeback after making a thorough assessment of the situation. And indeed I have been analysing the situation very closely and I am pleased to report that the atmosphere is now calm and back to normal. I can now venture out to hunt without fear of failure.

As I put my ear on the ground during my assessment of the situation, I stumbled on information that Alpha intended to hold a ‘grand’ concert at the Petit stade (if he is indeed the Kuku Ngbendo wa zabanga as people have made the world to believe, why not go to the grand stade and fill it with admirers, I wondered).

I knew that this was my chance to try and turn things around in my favour. My arsenal for use to attack this ‘young boy’ who knows nothing else but using his vocals lay in the fact that I closely followed his activities during his stay in the Tusker (man, the mention of this name turns my throat into a desert) Academy.

This means that I know thoroughly well that first and foremost, he is a poor bird hunter and second, he has not composed so many songs that can last a few hours (actually I only know of one song, the one that ushered in all my miseries; the one that brought the house down, they say).

And that is how it happened at Petit Stade. He only sung that one song and mimed the rest. I am now going to utilise this piece of information to formulate my propaganda and turn the tide against him. Keep watching this space.

Ends