MWALIMU SAYS HE CAN AFFORD HENNESSY
It’s a Monday, the day of the week when everybody is expected to be exhausted and most probably, broke—thanks to the usual weekend indulgences, good or bad.
Yeah, Monday can’t be a day to engage in good time activities that entail spending the T-shilling which, everybody seems to agree, is getting quite scarce. Pesa imepotea. But apparently, that’s mere generalisation, going by your observation today.
You’re currently not involved in any day-to-day scribbling chores in the newsroom, meaning you’re now free to spend any day of the week as you so please. Today, you’ve visited members of your extended family living in this outer part of Bongoville off the Dar-Moro highway to your right as ones drive westward. It’s an area that only a few years ago didn’t even qualify to be referred to as “outskirt of the city”. It has now grown to a town in its own right—sort of.
A tarmac road runs through it and the expansive area boasts design houses which would make residents of places such as Mbezi Beach and Kawe Beach turn green with envy. It’s a pity that such high value structures are in an area which is a mere slum! Well, no problem, for as we all know, over 70 per cent of the Bongo’s commercial capital’s residents live in slums or—to put a bit politely—in unsurveyed areas. Some observers say this is a conservative figure. Why, developers have reduced into virtual slums most of the erstwhile surveyed areas by putting up extra structures without the endorsement of city authorities: “frames”, kiosks, containers, makeshift groceries and such other constructions that make a mockery of the whole concept of town planning!
You’ve digressed, sorry. As you ride back to your side of town on this dissecting road that links the Dar-Moro highway and the Dar-Bagamoyo road, we notice this attractive roadside “grocery” that we agree to what it has to offer. Domestic tourism.
It’s a great looking place with ample parking space within and outside the drinking arena. Very active, courteous barmaids. Give the impression they attended institutions that offer training on customer care. They reduce your long-held fear that an opened up EAC labour market would automatically render jobless all our local girls in the hospitality industry. Keep it up, you girls and management at Stan Bar, for that’s what this establishment is called—or so you recall. We’ve all taken three-three and are ready to leave but just then, a young man walks up to our table and greets us all in a very respectful manner. It transpires he’s a former student of this ndugu of yours, a retired lecturer. “Mwalimu,” says the young man after an exchange of niceties with his former lecturer, “I hope you won’t mind if I buy you and your friends a drink.”
“Oh, Lord! Mind?” responds mwalimu gleefully, “we shall actually be immensely pleased.”
“Okay mwalimu,” says the young man, “something will be brought here soon.”
Indeed, a few minutes later, we had on our table two-two each. “Go tell him ahsante sana,” says mwalimu.
Three or so minutes later, the barmaid comes and informs us we shouldn’t bother about our own bill. “He has settled it all,” she says to your disbelief.
“Hail to the teaching profession,” you say, “these are the rewards of enabling someone to be something, even if you end up as nothing much yourself.”
“You can say that again,” says your ndugu, “the fellow was among my best students in his class…holds a good job with one of the state agencies.”
“Great,” our companion tells mwalimu, “that’s much better than teaching, even at university, isn’t it?”
“Of course… all the same, I must reciprocate the young man’s gesture,” he says as he calls the girl who is in charge of our table and tells her to take a drink to the young man.
“Are you sure you want to buy him something?” asks the girl, wearing a cheeky smile.
“Yes; and by the way, what’s he taking?”
“He only drinks Hennessy… by the bottle,” says the girl.
“You seem to suggest I cannot afford it; kwani, what does a bottle of Hennessy cost?” asks mwalimu.
“It’s forty thousand,” says the girl. “Ahaa! Well, I can afford it, of course, but let’s just leave it at that… I’ll buy him one some other day,” says mwalimu as he urges us to finish our beer and leave.
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