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It is never a good thing to lie, believe me, or not. That sounds pretty obvious, but if you are accustomed to living many lives, you find that not telling entire truths is a vital part of your continued existence. At a certain point, you start confusing the truths and however skilled you are at maintaining your double lives and multiple personalities, at some point you are bound to get a few things mixed up. The 40 days eventually elapse.

I met this girl at my friend’s birthday party at Game Club in my third year 1st semester. Asking him to quickly introduce me, I immediately started a conversation with her. She told me she was in her first year at Kyambogo and the conversation went on naturally. A strong, inexplicable urge to show off overcame me and before I knew what I was saying, I had told her that I was done with campus and worked for this huge NGO and that I was in fact set for a promotion that very next week. I would become the regional director.

When she asked what organisation I worked for, I started fumbling and made up a name, and told her it was a new NGO in the country and people barely knew it. My lies were growing faster than I could tell them to her. Yet, she thanked me and seemed genuinely happy for me. We exchanged numbers, and I had to leave. Two days later, I called her to ask if she was free for coffee at Cafe Javas. She said she was but the first thing she asked me was about my new position. Honestly, I had forgotten all about the new job thing. Remembering my lie just in time, I told her it was going well. I should have told her that I had not, in fact, got the job and I was only a student like her, my life would have been easier henceforth. I realized this a little too late, but what was done was done.

All through the date, she kept asking this and that about the job, and I kept brushing it aside. I could see her admiring me for having attained such a high posting at such a young age. Truth is, I even barely had enough money for the coffee itself. And like that, our relationship was based on lies which, frankly, I could not afford to keep up. Besides, she was not materialistic or high-maintenance. She was down to earth, which made it even more difficult to keep lying to her. Within two months, I had no idea who I really was. I had to refresh my mind about my lies before I went to see her at her hostel in Banda. And yet we were happy together.

Then one day, I told my sister about the dilemma I was in, and she straight up told me to tell her immediately, and take my chances. Which I did. That was the end of everything. She left me, not because of my job, but because she could not trust anything I told her ever again.
And to her, this was a very important part, something she could not do without. I met her the other day, and for some reason, I felt like getting on my knees and begging her, not to come back to me, but to forgive me for the lies.

….as told to the writer by a MUBS student that preferred anonymity.


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Edwin Bataringaya
The Jot Master himself. He can be reached on +256706617766 or on Bataedwin@gmail.com

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