Diaspoman: How we forfeited frothy drinks for hot spirits

During the mid-90s, Aggrey and I made up our minds. It was decision time indeed! We decided to quit Béa’s Pub. But this implied that we were to forfeit the sweet frothy drinks from Bralirwa and instead resort to hot spirits! In case you haven’t come across the name “Béa”, I need to tell you that she was the proprietor of Béa’s Pub, which was situated in the heart of the poor section of Kiyovu. We decided to abandon this joint after realising that Béa was only after our meager salaries. She employed all sorts of tricks in order to squeeze the last coins out of our coughing wallets. So, we just bade her farewell and instead crossed the road to her main rival. But somehow, we just felt the pain of deserting the ever vibrant pub where all of Béa’s old and new friends convened to brighten the area. As for her rival across the road, there was nothing but just boredom. The main visitors to this new joint were people who happened to be within the 56-77 age bracket. They did not entertain any sort of music. All they needed really was their bottle of dry gin. This was not the old fashioned dry gin. No way! It was a different type of gin which hailed from a place called Kasese. This, of course, is a town situated in the western part of Uganda close to the DRC border. It was at this place near the slopes of Mountain Rwenzori that this potent gin hailed from. Somehow during the mid-90s, this potent drink used to find itself in this old and funny looking place. So, when Aggrey and I deserted the ever rowdy pub that belonged to the crafty Béa, we ended up sitting with the elderly folks. When we suggested that we play some music in order to attract members of the opposite sex, the old folks all rose up in protest. They wanted their quiet environment, claiming that their intestines received the dry gin in a quiet environment. Anyways, we had to oblige and sit through the boring sessions as the old customers discussed Chemistry and Biology. Among them was this neighbour of ours called Waraje. You may recall that his name was derived from this very toxic gin which used to be his staple drink. For the uninitiated, Mr Waraje used to drive a very old Peugeot 504, which used to leave behind a huge cloud of carbonmonoxide. But every day before leaving home, he would call us from behind our fence. He would be calling us to solicit for some muscle power. This muscle power was needed in order to push the 504 out of the compound so that it could face a nice slope. Once it faced the slope, Mr Waraje would sit inside as the car rolled downwards ready to pick momentum. After three or so minutes, the engine would cough, spit and rumble before it finally came to life. Mr Waraje picked this name due to his love for the dry gin that I mentioned above. You see, every night at around 2am, he would come to his home in a joyous mood. He used to stay alone in his house and so it was quite difficult for him to locate the right key that would open his front door. So, as he fidgeted to identify the correct key, he would start to release a number one pop hit; “Uganda Waraje, Uganda Waraje!” This, of course, would be a song in praise of the Uganda Waragi, otherwise known as dry gin all the way from Kasese. When he sang this song, the entire neighbourhood would fail to sleep. His voice was such a thrilling one that even one-year-old infant would find it hard to sleep. That is how we ended up naming him Mr Waraje. Aggrey and I had found new solace at this new joint where Dry Gin was the order of the day…