Diaspoman: Why I need to rekindle my new partnership

These days, the poverty in my pockets is “whistling”. Men! It is so acute that I am on the verge of devising some ruthless methods that we used to practice during the mid 90s. Those are the days when Aggrey and I used to imitate Hollywood actors in order to get access to free booze. We had invested in some rather expensive Tuxedos and the return on this investment was not bad at all. Our return on the Tuxedo investment was measured by the number of beer bottles that we crushed at such posh Kigali functions. That is why whenever the waitresses served us with beers, we would insist on keeping the bottle tops. These tops were the basis of our ROI (return on investment) computation. To be frank with you, we counted approximately 20 bottle tops per party.Aggrey and I used to approach bouncers and hoodwink them into believing that we were top notch investors from abroad. As we approached the bouncers from a distance, we suddenly changed our posture by bending sideways as if one shoulder was carrying a huge suitcase. By walking at this awkward angle, the bouncers would give way for us. But sometimes, we would find smarter bouncers who would threaten to kick our behinds. In such cases, we would fake a foreign language which sounded like a cocktail of Spanish, French and Chinese. Thereafter, the wining and dining would stretch on until dawn. This trend continued for a while until we met a certain Engineer who advised us to change our mission. This Engineer advised us that man should not live on booze alone but also on food. “Guys, you are going to die soon if you don’t eat!” The Engineer advised us to employ our tactics so that we could fluke eating places. By the way, in case you are imagining that this guy was a degree holder in engineering, then you are certainly offside. This is a guy who had dropped out of school and had decided to baptize himself with the “Engineer” title due to his prowess in the art of conning. He was good at conning ladies and in the process, fleecing them of their cash. But apparently, his specialty was at fluking parties in search for free booze but most importantly, free food. He would boast to us as follows; “I am the one and only Engineer Cafu south of the Sahara”. He preferred to be called Engineer Cafu because of his admiration of the Brazilian right winger called Cafu. This guy believed that his pace at conning for booze and nosh rivaled that one of Cafu as he charged down the right flanks during his AC Milan days. Anyways, Aggrey and I realized that Eng Cafu would become the appropriate partner in our missions. We decided to invite him to our modest home at the Kiyovu of the poor. We sat with him and agreed to loan him an expensive Tuxedo. We were now the 3 Musketeers of Kigali. Ours was a mission for food! With this new uniform, Eng Cafu swore oath: “I swear that I will be faithful to our new partnership. I also pledge to you that I will never again fluke for food at the Nyabugogo and Kabeza restaurants. Instead, we shall be visiting top class places in Kigali so as to crush real food!” Apparently, Eng Cafu had all along specialized in visiting the lousy restaurants in and around Nyabugogo and Kabeza areas. He used to enter these restaurants and order for a huge plate of nosh. After eating, he would vanish without paying for the food. Aggrey and I detested that approach and that is why we loaned him a nice Tuxedo suit so that he could escort us to posh places. Our easiest target was at international conferences held in town. These usually took place at the Kigali top class hotels. So, Aggrey, Eng Cafu and I hit the streets of Kigali in search of free food. We managed to train Eng Cafu how to walk with the left shoulder hoisted high! We assured him that he could fool any bouncer in the world, only if he could walk in a manner to suggest that he was dancing to the tunes of Ragga Dee. However, we still had a major challenge at our hands; we could not successfully train Eng Cafu on how to speak in a foreign accent. We spent endless hours teaching him how to curl his tongue so as to produce an American accent but unfortunately, he kept biting his tongue until it pained so much as if he had swallowed red pepper. It was apparent that we were heading nowhere! That is why we opted to pay a visit to the nearest Pharmacy in town. We entered the Pharmacy and ordered for a carton of cotton wool. With this carton of cotton wool, we convinced ourselves that we had finally found a lasting solution to Eng Cafu’s accent and pronunciation problems. Yes! All we had to do was to stick some wet roll of cotton wool into Cafu’s nostrils. This was of so much help because when Eng Cafu spoke, it was as if his nose was blocked by a heavy bout of flu! This meant that when he spoke, the language came out in a gibberish fashion. With this solution, the 3 Musketeers were ready to attack! I guess it is time for me to rekindle this kind of partnership… diaspoman@yahoo.com