HUMOUR:The Bird Hunter almost starves to death

Oh! the games that people play in the name of bird hunting! Well, as I always tell you, when you are a bird hunter of substance, you will know thoroughly well which forest is best for hunting at a given season. In military terms this is known as strategy. Yes, bird hunting is also all about strategy and without this; you can as well just bow out. As I put my ear to the ground, I heard from someone that this was a very important month for our Moslem brothers (not the outlawed Egyptian militant organization, the ‘Moslem Brotherhood’). That is how I remembered somebody telling me that during the Holy Month of Ramathan Moslems are in their best moods. This friend of mine told me that actually if Osama Bin Laden happened to meet George Bush on the street of Kabul he would give him a hug. This statement motivated me to head to Nyamijos in pursuit of one of Osama Bin Laden’s sisters. Being a haven for Moslems, I knew that the chances of successfully hunting one veiled bird were high. But before I could embark on this tricky bird hunting expedition, I knew I had to first lay down good and convincing strategies because if found out, I know that there is nothing more severe than a Moslem scorned. That is how I found myself donned in a grey kanzu with a hood. I also put on my leather sandals which I had purchased from a Maasai market a week earlier before boarding a noisy matatu heading to Nyamijos. My first destination was ku ryanyuma where I intended to carry out a reconnaissance mission at the grand Mosque also known as Kwa Kadafi. I had mastered the universal Moslem greeting so I felt quite audacious as I entered the gate to the vast interior of the Mosque’s compound. While inside, I saw no signs of being found out as a fake since everyone was ostensibly going about their own business. While others were entering the Mosque for prayers, others were disappearing down the buildings that house the Islamic schools. Curiosity got the better of me and I found myself venturing deep down into the schools where I had seen many young people disappearing to. I knew that it was useless entering the Mosque since it is true that it was easier to find the Pope in the mosque than finding a bird in the men’s section. In mosques, birds and gentlemen are like oil and water. They are totally immiscible. I confidently sauntered down the clean paths until I reached the classes where several students were either gathered outside chatting or in classes discussing. I passed by pretending to be curiously looking around. I moved from class to class passing by and looking in through the windows making sure I did not arouse any suspicion. I am sure that had it been some other month some stubborn student would have approached me and inquired what my business was snooping around their classes. But then, bless the Holy month of Ramathan! But Alas! As I was contemplating leaving to go and try the lower Mosque in Biryogo, I beheld a very spectacular bird. I swear that this one was world beauty pageant material but for constraints of the Islamic culture. The bird did not seem to be part of the crowd of the students because she was not wearing uniform like everybody else. I also noticed that she had that air of “I am above you all” that she carried around her towards the students. It looks like she had either escorted a sister here or she had come to ‘look around’ like me. I approached her like a real star and after clearing my throat I unleashed the most sophisticated Moslem greeting that she had ever heard. She turned to face me upon which she started to adjust her veil to cover the little that was exposed of her curly hair. She curiously and shyly returned my greeting, exposing her well arranged teeth which spread the radiance up to her very light skinned face. Light skinned birds are normally not my type but this one was an exception.To keep the bird in my grip, I started telling her how I am from Sudan, Darfur to be precise and was in Rwanda to find out whether I could settle here. I told her that I had seen Rwandan soldiers in Darfur and had been led to believe that the country was a very hospitable place. This really touched her and made her open up. She immediately volunteered to show me around the vast mosque compound and after that we went to the Kigali Genocide Memorial and other important spots in Kigali city. All this time I tried to avoid any of the contre success who I am sure would have given away my identity and that would definitely have been the end of my hunting expedition. Well, the ‘city tour’ finally ended at her home where she introduced me to her parents who were equally hospitable and asked me to stay for Futar. This means the food eaten at fast-break late in the evening after a long fasting day. You can imagine how I felt, having spent the whole day on an empty stomach. I was very thirsty and hungry and at one time I almost forgot and asked for water to drink. But finally time came for eating but we had to eat and drink lightly before prayers after which we now settled for a real feast. By the time I left, I wasn’t sure I was ready to meet my veiled bird or if I had to go through the same experience. Ends