Diaspoman: How the muscle power has slowly waned off

I am regretting the fact that my muscle power has waned off over the years. Thanks to the thousands of litres of booze that I have consumed over the years – I think the only heavy weights that I can now lift is a half litre of Tusker beer in a large glass! I am thinking that I need this muscle power if I am to buy a used vehicle in this busy Nyabugogo garage.

Saturday, February 26, 2011

I am regretting the fact that my muscle power has waned off over the years. Thanks to the thousands of litres of booze that I have consumed over the years – I think the only heavy weights that I can now lift is a half litre of Tusker beer in a large glass!

I am thinking that I need this muscle power if I am to buy a used vehicle in this busy Nyabugogo garage.

Last week I told you about my mission to this place. I was at this busy Nyabugogo garage in search for a used vehicle. My mind was convincing me that I would buy the used car at a giveaway price and hopefully transform it into a decent looking machine that would convince future brides to come for a ride.

I was hoping that such rides in my refurbished four wheels would convince someone’s daughter to accept the very difficult task of becoming a Mrs. Diaspoman.
When I was touring the garage, my mind dashed very fast to the mid 90s when our neighbour called Mr. Waraje had a ramshackle car that used to help us in many ways.

I say in many ways because not only would we get free rides to our workplace but also due to the fact that we used to enjoy free muscle building exercises!
As I have mentioned to you several times before, Mr. Waraje’s favourite friend was a bottle of Uganda Waragi. The problem that our neighbour had was how to obtain easy access to this potent brew. The nearest place that he could find this hot spirit was at the Gatuna boarder. If he failed to find it at Gatuna, then he would be forced to cross over to Katuna side. He had to be careful to distinguish the "G” factor from the "K” one.

You would not simply boast around that you are in Gatuna, when you are actually in Katuna. They happen to be two different names and places. Anyways, Bwana Waraje had to visit this place occasionally and that is why he was obliged to import his dilapidated Peugeot 504, right hand vehicle.  

When the 504 crossed the border, onlookers could not figure out whether it was a wheel barrow or a tricycle that was rolling from the left lane to the right one. Behind the wheel was Waraje himself, negotiating the wheels at a snail’s pace. It took him approximately 3 hours instead of the usual 45 minutes from the boarder to the capital city.

As he guided it around the sharp corners, the 504 left behind a cloud of black smoke that polluted the whole village. Those days, the traffic police were not as strict as they are today.

That is why they always failed to discover the several bottles of Uganda Waragi hidden under the seats of the 504 Peugeot. When the vehicle finally pulled up in his compound, we never got bothered by its looks. For us, we knew that this was more than welcome as it would probably solve our transport problems.  
However, it was going to be a case of tit for tat. We had to scratch Waraje’s back so that hecould in turn scratch ours. What I mean here is that if we were to get a daily free lift from our home in the 504, we had to sacrifice a bit of our muscle power. You see, every morning, the 504 would wake up very tired and thirsty.

That is why we had to refill its radiator with several litres of tap water in order to resurrect it. In addition, Aggrey and I had to position ourselves behind the car and give it our very strongest push up and out of Waraje’s creaky gate. Once we managed to push it out of the compound, we would stand aside and watch Waraje reverse backwards into the compound in a bid to kick start the engine.

If we were lucky, the car would start by coughing, spitting, sneezing and then croak out as the engine burst into life. In most cases, the car would cough; spit, sneeze and then snore back to sleep.

That would imply that Aggrey and I had to push it uphill once again. No wonder, we never needed the Gymnasium for body building. Waraje’s junk vehicle was sufficient enough for that purpose Unfortunately for me now, I have eaten more years since those mid 90s.

If I proceed to buy a used car from this Nyabugogo garage, I may not have the muscle power to push it down the road. Besides, the untold thousands of litres that I have been consuming cannot allow me to add some muscle… 

diaspoman@yahoo.com