A trickster’s ordeal

On a quiet and dark Thursday evening(a power blackout being responsible),I’m resting in my hostel room(at a private Ugandan University).Suddenly, I hear a hard knock on the door and I come face to face with a tall, dark and slender human figure.

Monday, February 06, 2012

On a quiet and dark Thursday evening(a power blackout being responsible),I’m resting in my hostel room(at a private Ugandan University).Suddenly, I hear a hard knock on the door and I come face to face with a tall, dark and slender human figure."My father is dead,” he says (without as much as a greeting). I quickly move closer to get a better view with only the light from my phone’s screen helping me. I am scared but I have to confirm if it is one of my beloved friends Samson or Albert. Relieved that it is neither of them, I ask, "Who are you?With tears running down his cheeks, he tells me that his name is Denis and proceeds with the story of how he just got the news of his father’s death after battling with diabetes. He needs to go home as soon as possible but has not a penny to his name.The end of the semester is drawing near and I am in the same financial predicament. For a moment, I get that miserable feeling because I do not have the means to help this poor soul  and I start wondering why God didn’t give me all the money in the world so that I could help with such issues.I explain to him that I am down on cash and manage to convince him to try my landlord. However, before he could even stand at the land lord’s door, he (the land lord) dashes out wielding a club and charges towards Denis. Denis sprints for his life with speed only matched by a deer. The landlord eventually returns and informs me of how Denis made "killing” his father a habit just so he can con money from people. Apparently, even the local area police are hunting him. It just puzzles me how one can get to the point of "murdering” their own parent, for quick bucks. It is an ugly reminder of how soulless some individuals are.The incident quickly reminded me of a similar one, where a chap faking blindness sat on one of Kampala’s streets to beg. He had a plate in front of him to collect the coins (or notes) he was given. He was shrewd enough and did not want potential donors to get the impression he was getting a lot of money hence reducing their contribution. So for that reason, he kept one coin of the smallest unit on the plate; quickly pocketing every freshly dropped coin or note from the plate given to him by sympathetic passersby.After waving a hand in front of the blind man’s face to confirm that he was actually blind, he reached out for the blind man’s pockets but before he could even touch the tips, the blind man’s hands were around his neck. ‘Do not even think about it,” said the blind guy leaving the thief in utter shock!