Diaspoman:My Xmas plans have changed overtime

Christmas is around the corner. But for me these days, I do not really enjoy Xmas celebrations the way I used to when I was much younger! Actually, I guess I might spend Xmas night at that charismatic church around the corner. I will spend my Xmas days dancing and rejoicing with fellow Christians. What a U-turn! During those old days, Aggrey and I longed for Xmas period because we would go visit the pubs one by one; harassing booze, chicken and Irish potatoes. Those are the days when our pockets would be weeping in shame by the 15th of December. So with 10 days left, we had to do something to keep our Xmas celebrations alive! That is why we depended on our sheer rock during those ever December thirsty times. Our rock fulfilled our desires by taking us to his favourite joint called Béa’s pub. I am talking about the one and only Mr. Waraje. You may recall that Mr. Waraje earned this unique name due to his unquenchable love for a concentrated product manufactured in Uganda. He used to spend a sizable chunk of his time at Béa’s joint enjoying glasses of Uganda Waragi. He would then jump in his ram shackled Peugeot 504 and somehow make it to his house. His house was just next to ours at Kiyovu of the poor. Somehow, he managed to climb over the gate after mid-night. He lived alone in his house and that is why it usually took him several minutes to identify the right key for his front door. Occasionally, he became tired of looking for the key and instead would sit outside to sing his most favourite tune; “Uganda Waraje, Uganda Waraje!” He would be singing this song in praise of his sweet liquor that hails from the Rwenzori Mountains of the moon. This is the man that used to shoulder our thirst related problems when our pockets suddenly dried up. And the Xmas period was certainly no exception! The advantage about Mr. Waraje is that he could get credit facilities from Béa at any time. In fact, Mr. Waraje was so much attached to Béa’s pub that he picked all his earnings and banked them at her coffers. At Béa’s pub we would open our mouths for potent dinks. They had several names; kill me quick, UG or ka-quarter. The level of intoxication varied according to the type of crowd and type of subjects that were being discussed. During these festive days, we guzzled so much that our tongues failed to function. As a result, we would raise our voices so high. In the process, the deadly liquors would take hold of our heads and tongues; “People, you shee we can onry contlor inflason by declizing money shuppry” Once our “Rs” and “Ls” got intertwined like this, Béa would urge us to leave the bar at once lest she called for an ambulance. With the help of some bouncers, we would be lifted out of our wooden stools and thrown into Mr. Waraje’s 504. The bouncers would give it a push and Waraje would steer the car towards Kiyovu of the poor. However on such Xmas festive periods, Waraje’s eyes would refuse to focus properly. That is why he would instead direct the 504 towards Remera. He would accelerate the junk vehicle and end up at a stranger’s gate. The night watchman would then come out and interrogate us. Finally he would give us his verdict; “Guys, you are infiltrators and I will have you arrested at once!” Gone are those days for sure – I guess we have grown older and wiser. Dear brethren, here I come to praise and pray with you over the Xmas holiday! diaspoman@yahoo.com.