How Bird Hunter celebrated Christmas Eve as a ‘born-again’

Its true time flies- but tell me, does everyone notice, just like me that time no longer flies but actually plummets? Just the other day we were at the stade Amahoro with my best friend, the legendary Tonto KK Blueberry (he is the proud owner of a Tigo karasharamye, which he likes to call blue berry) version celebrating the end of 2009 and making resolutions (we resolved to boycott Bralirwa products and anything intoxicating, but we violated this on the second day of 2010) for 2010. It was when we were heading to the stadium to perform the traditional end of year rituals, (emptying bottles as we waited for fireworks) that we actually looked at each other and wondered whether the time keeper had gotten it right; had 12 months really elapsed since the time we were at the stade bidding farewell to 2009? Well, Tonto Blackberry is the kind of character who will not let anything stand in his way to having a blast-especially, when its Christmas festivities. He said he did not care whether someone decides to celebrate Christmas and end of year every other three months, all he would do, is have his end of year blast. I had no more to say. But seriously, soon we will be required to work day and night, in order to be able to achieve what we used to achieve in one year because, one year is no longer one year. Someone is cheating us on time! Anyway, the passing of time apart, I really had a good time during this festive season, especially on Christmas Eve. As I told you, all the birds had dropped their defenses and were quite enthusiastic about mixing and mingling (hence exposing themselves to the hunter’s arsenal). Forget about the drink-and-go (or should I say drink-as you-go a la MTN?) bird that Tonto supplied me on New Year’s Eve. Of course I had contingent plans after the Amstel Bocke guzzling bird decided to desert me. But the festive season, washed all the stiffness that had started to create in the birds’ hearts and left them supple, friendly and hunt-able. If there is anything that I will remember about 2010, it is the fact that I was able to explore and discover my country. For instance, I used to think that one could only be able to have maximum fun if they went to Saga Plage in Bujumbura, Munyonyo in Kampala or Pirates in Mombasa. Little did I know that there was lots of fun waiting, just two hours drive away within our own a thousand hills! But pardon me; I am a hunter and not a tourist, so, there is no way I would have known unless I made the discovery during a hunting mission- like I did. During the same time, I was also able to discover that hunting expeditions, cannot take place only in cosmopolitan environments. Villages are even more fun because while in cities like our own Kigali you are surrounded by envious hyenas, in the villages you are surrounded by calm innocence and naivety. While hunting in a village, there is a way you are made to feel innocent, despite the fact that deep down you are convinced that you are actually the only devil around. For the first time, I felt a feeling that stirred my heart just the way I read about love feelings in romantic novels. That is how I got the hell out of the village and returned to the city, where fellow rotten minds reside. I was right on time to join Tonto Blackberry, who was all along wondering what had happened to me, because my phone was not going through due to network connection, owing to the fact that I had been deep in the remotest part of an Eastern Province village. Tonto had plans. He had gone through the entire itinerary for the Noel celebrations around the city, and had zeroed in on the prayer function at the stade. I asked him the reason for his choice because of all places, a prayer function? I mean there were two high profile functions at Shokola, Top Tower Hotel and of course the white bird nest that is Papyrus! “Relax”, he told me in his trademark style which tells you that he is quite confident and sure about what he is doing. If I become the City Mayor, I will take on Tonto Blackberry as my personal assistant. Of course that also means that we will go together if my next assignment is in the 1930 University of Discipline, because that would be the likely ending of the story. We were at the entrance of Petit Stade Amahoro at exactly 11pm, on the recommendation of Tonto Blackberry. He told me that it was necessary to arrive early, and reconnoiter before the real hunting exercise, because this one right here was a very sensitive and risky hunting ground. As we stood at the entrance, I wanted to commend my personal assistant for his wisdom but on second thought, decided against it because knowing him, recommending him is tantamount to spoiling the rest of the mission because he will get careless and overconfident which was not what I wanted at a gathering of suspicious savedees. Well, as midnight edged closer, we mingled with the ‘rest’ of the faithful and started ‘singing’ and praising to usher in the King’s Birth day. It was not long when we noticed that a certain corner was accommodating a group of wannabe birds. The birds, looked out of place, because they were not getting the songs right and their eyes kept wondering from corner to corner. We moved there and as usual, made introductions and kicked of a serious conversation and to turn to ‘singing’ whenever we thought it would look rude to keep talking when the pastor looked our way. Trust our style, because we were able to wrestle a couple of birds from the ‘church’ towards morning and we went to start the early days of Christmas in the nearest joint around the stade. Ends