My recent visit to fellow Diaspomen in Kampala came to an abrupt end when some tough looking goons turned me upside down at the ever vibrant Capital pub in Kabalagala. I had been outsmarted and it was time for me to just throw in the towel and head back to Kigali.
My recent visit to fellow Diaspomen in Kampala came to an abrupt end when some tough looking goons turned me upside down at the ever vibrant Capital pub in Kabalagala. I had been outsmarted and it was time for me to just throw in the towel and head back to Kigali.
Fortunately for me, it was graduation weekend in Kigali. Apparently, several universities were holding ceremonies. Notably, at School and Finance and Banking (SFB) where I happen to be a student although most people at campus mistake me for being a senior lecturer.
Anyways, SFB was the place to be and graduates had organised parties all over Kigali. So for us, it was a matter of where to fluke these parties. We decided that it had to be a party where beer flowed like the river Nile itself.
It did not take us very long to identify a top class graduation party somewhere in Kimihurura. The place was oozing with many liters of Amstels.
Being the ringleader, I marched on to the party followed by a group of very thirsty SFB classmates. We stormed the graduation party and identified a cozy corner within the nicely decorated garden.
In that corner, we maneuvered and obtained a crate of Amstels which we cleared in record time. We negotiated another and when the Amstel ran out we moved on to Mutzig.
One of our colleagues called Steve had gulped much more than he could handle. That is why he grabbed the microphone from the distinguished MC and decided to give a word or two.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, we are so pleased to be here to celebrate with our colleague.” The crowd clapped.
Encouraged, Steve continued with his speech. He called us from our hideout so that we could stand with him as he continued to speak.
In our drunken condition, we stumbled out of our corner. He continued "Ladies and Gentlemen, we are here to sing for the new graduate a nice song which will help him as he starts this new life” A SONG?
We were not prepared for any songs. But before we could protest, Steve released a rocket of a song. But since the booze had overpowered our minds, what we attempted could only have been interpreted as gibberish.
A courageous MC, pretending to enjoy our choruses, covered the embarrassment. He called out to the guests to give us a standing ovation.
"Please, let’s stand and clap for the SFB choir.”
Within minutes, the SFB choir was being shown the gate. We were told to vamoose and never come back. We were so drunk that we simply lost each other in the night.
Oh, what a night!
Contact: diaspoman@yahoo.com