Diaspoman :Why we switched our keys for holy matrimony

Last week, I narrated to you how Aggrey and I had discovered the keys for fighting starvation. These were bunches of old keys which we would leave behind in posh restaurants having crushed a delicious plate of nosh and sneaked out through the back door without paying. The waiters would find our fake bunch of keys on the table and assume that we were still within the vicinity. This habit went on during those mid 90s until we reached saturation point! We had done our rounds all over the restaurants which meant that we couldn’t check in again lest we got arrested. We had to devise other means of stopping starvation from visiting us. So, we started searching for holy matrimony. Not that Aggrey and I were looking for brides in the name of uniting two people into one person – no way! Instead, we hunted for wedding ceremonies in and around Kigali, so that our throats could be irrigated with frothy products from Bralirwa. We were also hoping that we would find some buffet tables for us to feast on. The problem is that Aggrey and I were never invited for wedding parties where real food was served. For us, the wedding parties that we used to officially attend took place in Nyamigos or Nyabugogo. This was the kind of class that we were considered to belong to. The weddings at Nyamijos and Nyabugogo belonged to penniless couples who would squeeze themselves in a small hall and feed on cassava tubers. Naturally, Aggrey and I would always attempt to dodge such lousy weddings. For us, wedding ceremonies had to translate into crates of Heinekens instead of sacks of cassava tubers. That is why we chose to gatecrash the top class parties. Once we entered the superb gardens of the high class weddings, Aggrey and I would head towards the table where the bottles were perching out ready for the kill. We would then pick up empty bottles from the garden and proceed to fill them with all tribes of booze. Sometimes, we mixed UG with Dry Gin plus Red label - all in one bottle! After filling the empty bottles, we would toss them over the fence. As guests danced away through the night, Aggrey and I would also climb over the fence. It did not matter whether we were spoiling our nice attire during the process of climbing over the fence. We then jumped to the other dark side so as to join our dear bottles of booze. Off we would go to enjoy our punched spirits at our home in Kiyovu of the poor. We then convinced ourselves that we had to start feeding our bodies with some real food. The only solution was to smuggle food out of these parties. We told ourselves that since we could toss the booze over the fence, we could do the same for the eats! So, the next big party arrived sooner than later. Our plan was to toss some roasted meat over the high fence and then shortly follow the meat by climbing over the high fence. For this particular wedding, the fence was very high. We either had to get a ladder so as to climb over, or we had to take a few steps back and then sprint and jump over. It was going to be a very hard task. Anyways, we had to do what we had to do. For us, it was Mission impossible. Okay, we started to search for polythene bags from the garden. We then proceeded to pack the bags with all tribes of roasted meat. We added in some chips, matoke plus salads. We then tied the bags and threw them over the fence. However what Aggrey and I were not aware of was that behind that high fence was a group of fierce, hungry shepherd dogs. So when we threw the nice smelling roasted meat over the fence, the dogs became very excited. They had found some food at last. As for us, we were also excited that our mission had become successful! We had managed to get the nyama choma across the fence. What was remaining for us was to join our loot. We then struggled to climb over the wall. It took us about 15 minutes to finally reach the top of the fence. We then counted 1, 2, 3 and jumped. Ouuuch! We landed right into the middle of the strong dogs. There was no escaping! It was now our turn to be chewed alive… diaspoman@yahoo.com