The year is 2000 August and I am heading to Abuja from Lagos to attend one of those useless workshops that my boss has been so lazy to attend. Inside the aircraft at Murtalla International airport, a lady voice is heard saying…”Ladies and gentlemen, welcome aboard. I have one announcement to make. No goats are allowed in this plane”. I found that announcement funny because why would one take goats to Abuja? Just when it was 5 minutes before takeoff, I saw a man walk in with two goats and tethered them on the seat in front mine and sat down. Other than me, nobody else seemed bothered. So I just sat and watched. Thirty minutes into the flight, the two goats started making a baby. Again nobody seemed bothered by the goings on. After meeeeeeeeee….meeeeee…meeeeing for a couple of minutes they settled down. I have never understood why the goats were being taken to Abuja, but I guess they were star actors going for a movie shoot!
Eight years later, I am travelling to Amsterdam with Bugatti aboard KLM. Five hours into the flight and I can’t get any sleep. Then that thought of goats copulating aboard an aircraft occurred to me. If goats can do it, why not me. It would be such an experience. So I started touching those knobs that are likely to set Bugatti on fire. The third seat was not occupied but the fourth was by an Indian who had fallen asleep probably due to eating too much pepper! So at least I was not going to disturb anybody. Just when I was about to gain access, I saw the Hostess come towards us. I started cursing. It is like she sensed I was up to something. For the rest of the trip she had her eyes fixed on us. When I was disembarking I told her I will be back. And for sure I did. On our way back, I was lucky to sit in between seats that were not occupied. When it was all quiet, I started turning on the knobs again and tuning Bugatti’s graphic equalizers…adding a little bass here, decreasing the tweeters etc until she was ripe. Now, we folded ourselves like chapattis. Now, if you want to get the real picture of how we were, take one chapatti. Fold it this way. Fold it again that way and then roll it. That is the position we were. Bugatti seemed to enjoy every moment of it. Then all of a sudden I saw the light above me come onas well as the buzzer. When I checked, Bugatti’s legs were up in the air and she had mistakenly sounded the buzzer and switched on the light with her legs! I saw the Air Hostess head towards our direction to find out what the problem was. By the time she arrived, I was in the final moments of trembling! “Anything the matter” she enquired. “So..so..so..me mo..mo..mo..re Hein..hein..ke…ken ple…a…se” I told her as I completed the trembling. What a nice experience!!!. Bugatti is already saving for a repeat!
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In 2002 while working in a remote village in South Sudan, Majok Majok had just dropped us and turned to our team leader to ask , “Sir where do I f*** (pack) the car”. The team leader looked at him and retorted, “Try the exhaust pipe. If it is too small, open the car bonnet, there are too many holes which you can f***. Enjoy and Good night”.
In the same village, Makau, a gynecologist, had been seeing patients the whole day. Late in the evening, a husband brought his pregnant wife who had been in labor for the last 12 hours. Makau quickly got to work. He put on some gloves and in the presence of the husband, asked the lady to lie on the bed. He inserted his two figures into the lady’s to feel how the cervix was. All this time the husband was watching. Suddenly he jumped on Makau and slapped him so hard yelling, “why you put on condom in the hand and start having sex with my wife. And you insert two penises into my wife’s ….”
We laughed till we all farted….
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If you have been to Entebbe and spend the night there, you must have visited a pub known as 4Turkeys. It is the equivalent of our Zimaz Restaurant. If you want to see Russian pilots who are still drunk on Popov they took eight months ago in Moscow, the place to see them is in 4Turkeys. Of course if you move to Kampala there other places like Rock Garden and if you want to eat bad meat the place to go is Kabalagala. Around there is Kambara International University. I sometimes wonder whether ‘commercial sex’ is a core unit taught at this university. How can you explain a situation where all the female students are out in the street at night selling meat and other parts? Anyway, if you will be going to watch Harambee stars play against The Cranes, please remind me to tell you where you can buy steak cheaply and also where to get the best cut. Remind me please.
Back to 4Turkeys. It is here where I meet Kamau. I am able to know he is a Kenyan because he is putting on a shirt with Kenyan flag colors. Kamau is an aircraft Makanga. He is the one who pushes the knobs for the doors of C130 to open so that the plane can shit food. He calls himself an Engineer but I doubt because his English is worse than that of Waibara and there is no indication that he ever went to school. So I find Kamau already under the influence of several
Niles. Now Kamau starts giving us stories. The one that I remember most is about a man who used to share a mud house with his father. He would sleep in one room and his father in the other room. The walls were so thin that one could hear what the other was doing in the other room. One night the son brought in a girl and he started working her up. So the father was listening in the other room and monitoring what was happening. He could hear the girl shouting,
“
Mwangi, Mwangi, ukitonya tonya nigumira, no ukiumia nigukwa (Mwangi Mwangi, if you prick prick, I will shit and if you take it out, I will die)
The father listened and being an old man full of wisdom, he shouted to his son,
“
Mwangi Mwangi mwana wakwa, tonya tonya amire, tondu ukiumia nukukwa”Whatever you do this weekend, tonya tonya amire
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