Diaspoman: When nature called at Isange Joint

I believe that I have ever told you about a pub that Aggrey and I used to operate during the mid 90s. The name of the bar was Isange joint. As far as entertainment was concerned, Isange joint was second to none! The ice cold booze was so special and the roasted meat was a favourite to our NGO personnel who comprised 99% of our customer base! The only problem was that our clients always had very few options whenever nature called. Yes – Isange joint was void of a real washing room. In fact, using the term washing room is an attempt to become as diplomatic as ever. Diplomats are the ones who call a spade a big spoon. They also usually say “yes” when in fact they mean a heavy “no”. They never want to openly step on anyone’s toes. That is why you sometimes hear words like “washing room” instead of bluntly calling it by its real name; Toilet. Some people may also argue that using the word “Toilet” is a diplomatic way of calling it by its true name; Latrine. If Isange joint was alive today, it wouldn’t have passed the test of these modern days. These days, it would not be very surprising to have cabinet Ministers pay a surprise visit to a local pub to check for themselves whether hygiene was up to acceptable standards. Actually, there would have been no point at all for an inspection at Isange. This is because there was no subject matter to inspect in the first place. Yes it is true. Isange joint was kitchen-less. It was also very Latrine-less. To date, we wonder how we managed to pull crowds at our vibrant joint which lacked even the basic facilities. The roasted meat at Isange was prepared by the roadside in the open. There was nothing like shelter. So when a strong wind blew in, both the roasted and raw meat would be infested by a cloud of dust. Then when the skies changed colours and started to pour heavy rains, the poor roadside muchomo sellers would carry their meat and search for shelter under a tree. The meat would get really soaked but still our faithful customers would chew them as if there was no tomorrow. Once you have swallowed substantial amounts of soaked roasted meat and mixed it with a cold Primus, your stomach tends to send signals of emergency. This is what used to happen to our Isange customers. When such calls from nature arose, our customers would ask for the “washing rooms”. Our waitresses had been trained on how to respond to such fake questions. They would tell the customer to head for the nearby bushes. What I remember very well is that whenever any client went to the nearby bushes in order to “ease” himself, he would not return to Isange Joint – Ever! diaspoman@yahoo.com