If you have been following world news, you should by now know that things are becoming monkey for all of us. Forget about elections in the US or in Zimbabwe. I am talking about the economic issues that concern our stomachs. Yes! Things are becoming tight and tighter as food prices continue to soar.

There are some things that we used to chew on a daily basis but now we can no longer afford. I mean, if someone like Aggrey can also say goodbye to meat, then you know that things have become elephant indeed. Although Aggrey doesn’t want to admit it, he has also been bitten by the recession bug.

Every weekend Aggrey would hook up with his friends at Serena Hotel, but lately he has since deviated a little bit.
These days, he has become much closer to me. His rich friends have been calling him but he has been giving out excuses claiming to be busy at work. The truth of the matter is that he can no longer afford the beers at the golf club.

Instead, he has been begging me to escort him to Migina for a cold bottle of Amstel. At Migina, just opposite the national stadium, a bottle of beer and a plate of plain chips can take you through the night. The cash that Aggrey used to spend on one tot of whiskey could now buy him several rounds of booze at the Migina joint.

The only problem he faces is his image in society. He chooses a darkish corner so that people do not recognise him. I try to assure him that this life is the best.

"Aggrey, don’t you remember a decade ago when we used to harass drinks at Béa’s pub in the Kiyovu of the poor?” But those were the old days when nobody cared about status and class.

Today, Aggrey finds himself entangled in a web of snobs trying to out-do one another. They compare notes – who has the best car, the best bungalow, the best job. As for yours truly, I can fit anywhere.

So long as there is an ice cold bottle of Amstel, then I am in. The other night, we jumped into Aggrey’s Jeep and headed to Migina. We sped through the traffic lights and as usual found a nice hideout for parking the vehicle.

We then sprinted out of the car and attempted to cross the street to the other side. Aggrey had his long overcoat and a huge hat to cover his face. We crossed and entered the Migina pub where we began to slaughter bottle after bottle.

Within a few minutes, we were quite surprised to see one of Aggrey’s rich colleagues entering the hideout. He was also wearing a cowboy hat to cover his face. Escorted by a funny looking chick, the guy whispered to the waitress:

"Please bring the usual. How much do I owe you since last month?”

Oops, you mean this rich guy had been frequenting this place for over a month?

You see Bwana Aggrey, you are not alone. All of your so called rich friends just pretend to be enjoying the likes of the golf club. They cannot survive without Migina…

Contact: diaspoman@yahoo.com