YOU MUST HAVE seen the adverts on Facebook! Yes! In Bujumbura Burundi, preparations were in high gear to host valentine’s night for serious singles. The place to be was at the famous Havana club in the heart of Bujumbura. This was strictly for single folks! Since I have considered myself single for a very good part of my life, I found myself crossing the Akanyaru boarder heading for this mega party! It was the 14th of February 2013. I had told myself that I could get myself hooked to a fellow single lady and probably get things moving in a certain direction!Anyhow, I managed to find myself in Bujumbura where I was received by non-other than Jean Claude himself. We did not waste any time! Indeed, our first stop was at the Havana nightclub. Wow! The whole place was jam-packed. Music was booming out of the huge loudspeakers. Crazy dancing was going on. P-Square music was playing and everyone was at it! Claude guided me through the noisy crowd where we managed to reach the counter. My valentine single night was now at work indeed. The counter was full of very nice looking singles - future brides woooo.I started to practice out some opening statements that I would use in proposing to the unlucky future bride. The only problem was that I had to make a choice. I had to select one person. As the ladies approached me one by one, I scrutinized carefully so that I could make the proposal to the right person. My mind told me that I should ignore the ones who were advancing to me and instead concentrate on the lonely looking people.I told myself that a lonely-looking girl would suit a lonely-looking Diaspoman!I scanned around and finally spotted a prospective candidate sitting alone in a corner. She had braids on her head. She was a well built heavyweight person dressed in an Arsenal FC jersey. She was dressed in tight Levis jean trousers. I immediately thought that she would be my kind of candidate because I happen to be an Arsenal diehard fan. I also thought that a bride of that kind of weight would come in handy in terms of security. I guess we men would benefit if our wives were able to chase away thieves as we snored drunk in our beds.Anyways, I cleared my throat before taking in a huge gulp from my huge Amstel glass. I then majestically marched onwards in order to put my Mission statement into practice. I reached out to Miss dynamite and cooed out the following words: “Honey, you seem to be the answer to my prayers. I thank Jesus for having revealed you to me after a long, long search. Would you kindly be my wife?” As I prepared to receive a positive response, Miss Dynamite gave me the most painful punch that you have ever seen. It was a real Mike Tyson kind of strike!It was when I was picked up from the floor that the truth sank in! Miss Dynamite was not a lady. No way! It was a Man in dreadlocks who must have fed on bread and butter all his life. He was not like you and I who have grown up on dry cassava accompanied by water. For him, he had fed on several liters of milk all his days since birth. That is why his physical appearance resembled that one of a nice looking Buja chick. As I was led away, his booming voice kept barking after me with threatening words. That is how I ended my singles valentines night in Havana!!
