Diaspoman: When you get a bill grill

Recently I happened to travel abroad with Aggrey. He had been kind enough to allow me escort him for an important meeting abroad where he was going to sign a lucrative contract. Once in the posh hotel, I was more than pleased to join Aggrey and his rich clients at the counter where we guzzled several liters of beers. It was then time for us to retire into our rooms. When I reached my room, I was pleasantly surprised to find a small fridge packed with all tribes of alcohol. I proceeded to swallow one by one until the fridge was totally empty! When it was time to check out of the hotel in the next morning, the bill presented to Aggrey almost gave him a heart attack! How could Diaspoman have wiped out an entire fridge? Ohhh, for me I thought that the drinks in my room were all free of charge? Anyhow poor Aggrey had to foot the bill as he grumbled to himself quietly that he would never travel with me again! This particular experience reminded me of a time during the mid-90s when Aggrey and I were presented with a hefty bill at one of the big hotels in Kigali. You see, on that fateful night, a friend of ours by the names of Franco visited us from Butare. He arrived with a bang! He was loaded with three young ladies, whom he had promised heaven on earth. He had told them that Aggrey and I were expatriates from Australia who had more money than BNR could ever accommodate. So, these ladies knew that we were never scared of spending cash. With this in mind, the three little lady musketeers started to consume some salt in preparation for real booze. In their minds, they knew that these two investors from Australia were going to dish out cash like no man’s business. That is why they looked at Franco in a strange manner when he suggested that we have a drink in Nyamijos. Was he mad? You want to take these investors to Nyamirambo? Instead, the chicks insisted that we head to a super glamorous hotel in the heart of Kigali When we arrived at the hotel, Franco led us to the most expensive wing where people with real money went for their outings. With our new girls, we settled down in our seats and ordered for eats and drinks. We had no fear whatsoever since Franco was around. Then Franco excused himself as he wanted to visit the gent’s room. In the meantime, we started crushing the delicious food with little mercy. By the time we were through with our meals, there was one plate that was still untouched. It belonged to bwana Franco! Had he developed complications with his tummy? Why was he taking so long in the gents? As we were still in this wondering mood, the bill arrived. I swear the amount indicated on the bill could have been enough to feed a dozen people at a Nyamijos joint. But since we were “investors from Australia” we had to dance to the tunes of the hotel! Where was Franco? So, eventually Aggrey and I had to end up answering tough questions at the Muhima Brigade.