Diaspoman : Why some Diaspomen have become more of a liability...

Last week, I received a call from someone informing me that many people had come in from the Diaspora to visit our dear motherland. They had come in for a mega wedding ceremony for a couple who also reside in the Diaspora. For me, it was a chance to rub shoulders with fellow Diaspomates and in the process try to feed my itchy throat with some frothy drinks. My throat has been quite dry because Aggrey has not paid a visit to SFB campus for several weeks. You can easily tell when Aggrey is in a good mood. That is when he is seen driving to campus in company of a new catch. He parks his cool turbo charged jeep at the SFB campus as students ogle at the couple. He then jumps out dressed in a very expensive suit. He places a call to me; “Hey Diaspoman. We are here. Let’s go for one-one”. Upon receiving this important call, I throw away my books and rush to the parking area. I am seen rushing because of the new kind of SFB that would soon wet my throat. I call it SFB because it stands for Special frothy beers. Aggrey, who used to be my housemate in the mid-90s, has since kissed goodbye to Nyakatsi. As for me, my return from the Diaspora has become an eye opener. That is why I had to kwiyambaza Aggrey so that he could sponsor me for this mature SFB degree course. Anyways, here I was last week at campus feeling very thirsty. I had spent a couple of days without going out with Aggrey. I did not even have enough credit on my mobile phone so that I could beep him. So, I had to count on my good luck and pray that he showed up again to take me out. But he never appeared and that is why I decided to pursue these newly arrived Diaspomates. Unfortunately, I quickly realized that these Diaspomates were the kinds who hail from the lands between the Sahara desert and the River Limpopo. That is to say that they were not loaded with real dollars. So instead of putting up at the Serena Hotel, these fellows ended up in Kimironko local lodges. They were the types who did not spend so much money on wines and whiskies. They just loved their bottles of Bralirwa products. So anyway, I decided to jump on a moto and headed off to Kimironko. There was this joint where a sizeable group of Diaspo looking people had convened. I quickly joined them although none of us could recognize each other. We just pretended to be great buddies and I unleashed my plan B. My objective was to guzzle as many bottles of Amstels at the expense of these visitors. They appeared to be in very high spirits and indeed their consumption of beers was quite appealing to me. But as I was planning to de-tooth these Diaspo looking friends, I never knew that they had their own sinister plans. I realized how foolish I was when four hours down the road, I found myself alone in the bar. Little did I know that the guys had vanished away one by one until I found myself staring at a very serious bill! Apparently, we had consumed not less than two crates of SFBs and I was supposed to cough out the necessary francs. My attempts to explain were quashed away mercilessly. In the end, I had to leave my Nokia phone as collateral. I have decided not to run behind these Diaspomen again. It has become more of a liability than an Amstel … diaspoman@yahoo.com