Diaspoman: When fighting ‘Agasozi Ndatwa’ turned sour

A few weeks ago, my attempt at fighting “agasozi ndatwa” turned sour. You see, I have recently been trying to copy Aggrey’s lifestyle. That is to say that I have tried to imitate every single step that he makes. In order to achieve this, I have transformed myself into some kind of escort. Wherever you find Aggrey, I will always be there. In fact, I am living up to MTN’s slogan which goes like this; “Everywhere you go”. So whenever Aggrey is invited for a cocktail party at the Serena Hotel, you will always find me there trailing behind as if I am his tail. Now there is this small problem that has been bothering us. We believe that as a result of excessive cocktail parties, our stomachs have begun to develop something called “Agasozi ndatwa”. That is to say that our tummies have been protruding forward into a shape of a pot. In other words, we have grown some awkward looking potbellies. As a result, Aggrey has started signing up for sports membership. These days, he wakes up early to go and play lawn tennis. I am told that he plays tennis for around 20 minutes before he slumps down in total exhaustion. But after sweating and burning his calories, he drives back home for a shower and then spoils it all by crushing a heavy breakfast. I understand that after such a tiring game, his stomach begins to demand for heavy quantities of nosh. That is why he ends up swallowing sausages, bacon, cheese plus a huge flask of African tea. The same cycle is repeated after work in the evening. Yes; he goes back for a round of tennis where he pants and chokes until he slumps down in real fatigue. Then he enters the dressing room to freshen up before joining his colleagues at the bar side. It is here that he revives his old drinking habits. With me hanging around as usual, we end up drinking several liters of Heineken. We also end up chewing on huge quantities of roasted chicken, pork and trays of chips. Effectively, all the calories that Aggrey and his friends burn during the tennis games are compensated by the heavy drinking and eating. But as for yours truly Diaspoman, I have resorted to just escorting them to the sports club. This is because I cannot afford the membership fees at the tennis club. What I can easily afford is to hang around Aggrey for free booze. There is also another thing that I can afford; jogging up and down the Kibagabaga stretch. However, things became elephant for me a few weeks ago. I dressed up in my sportswear and started to run up the stretch which bends from Nyarutarama heading to Kibagabaga. It was approaching 8pm at night and there was a slight drizzle. The cool breeze swept across and I felt more energized than ever. So, I stepped up another gear and pushed up the hill. I then decided to branch off to my left and explore other shortcuts. I continued to enjoy my exercise until something unusual happened. Yes; all of a sudden, I found myself surrounded by a gang of thugs. In a flash, they closed in. Two of them stretched my hands pointing to our creator in the sky. Two others proceeded to tickle me in the sides. As I started to roar in laughter, two other gangsters started to pull off my expensive tracksuit. The last one plucked away my mobile phone and rushed away. All along, passersby moved on without realizing that a serious robbery was in progress. I guess they thought that I was part of the game – besides, I was laughing my heart out as a result of the tickling. Within a few minutes, I was dropped down like a sack of dry beans. I was literally naked. I had to find a way of rushing back home in the middle of the night. As I meandered through the bushes and short-cuts, I could not help feeling envious for the likes of Aggrey who do not have to undergo such lousy exercises. That is why sports clubs were created in the first place, anyway…