By Bee Kyahuba
Whenever I see a new academic year starting, am always taken back to the days when I had spent only two years at Kyambobo University.
Truth be told, I did not come from Ibanda to Kampala just to study; I also came to explore the thailands of Kampala babes.
Everyone who has ever stayed in Banda slums knows a kafunda titled JKawere’s joint. It is famously known for its porridge like brew known as Omukomboti.
It was a cool Saturday evening when the government sponsored freshers started reporting for their academic year.
I left my rented muzigo in the swamps of Banda to report for a roll call at JKawere’s joint. I tanked over four glasses of Omukomboti and in a blink of an eye, I was seeing pink elephants.
My IQ went high, was walking in a random walk without a drift and my reasoning capacity had multiplied like Zimbabwe’s inflation.
With the Dutch courage that I had gained, i made a drastic decision under the influence of Omukomboti to go to Speke road in Kampala and get someone who will make me sleep like my father for at least one night.
Quietly I left JKawere’s joint walking in a zig zag motion and it took me two hours to reach Banda stage where I had to crawl while crossing Jinja road.
I boarded the taxi and headed to town. It was in this taxi that met a beautiful girl that caught my attention. She looked gorgeous and extremely elegant. Her hair was like wool of a mountain ship while the eyes were like two black beans floating on milk. She also had banana curved hips.
Still under the influence of Omukomboti, I gathered Dutch courage and approached this girl who was making me have butterflies in my stomach.
I humbly introduced myself and she told me her name is Vanessa. We kept on jazzing until we reached town and it was time for paying the taxi fares.
The juicy looking Vanessa dashed out of the taxi without paying and the conductor yelled at her, Gwe leeta Sente Zange, olowoza nkuleted bwerere? Literally meaning that; you give me my money, do u think transport is free?
Charming Vanessa looked dazzled and confused, she replied the conductor; “Money for what? Me I was admitted on government sponsorship and I was told that the government will cater for my bills while at campus!!”
As a sharp shooter, I could not let this opportunity walk past me without grabbing it.
“You have to bed this girl tonight, she still has Kyalo,” that was my thinking under the influence of Omukomboti.
I acted like a gentle man and paid Vanessa’s fare and this was the password to her trust.
She then told me of how she was going to shop for some utensils and scholastic materials. I escorted her we bought everything we wanted and it was time to return to Banda Slams.
I offered to take her for a drink before heading home and she accepted. As a campus boy, we had to settle for a certain Kafunda in Banda where beers were going for only 2300 shillings.
I offered her five bottles of Smirnoff Black Ice and I settled for my since 1759, Guinness. We downed the bottles as we poked and laughed with each other as if we had spent 10years in love.
I think whenever I would drink Guinness; it would go directly to my machete because the more the beer the more sharper the machete would be.
When Vanessa gunned down the sixth bottle, she jumped on stage, pulled out the rare strokes that shocked everyone. They gave her space as she danced herself lame.
Her rare dance stroked shocked me and Guinness forced me get on stage to challenge her.
I did break dance and the drunkards in the bar thought that Micheal Jackson had abruptly held a concert in Banda.
The Micheal Jackson strokes made Vanessa fall in my arms and I signaled the DJ of the night to immediately change the music genre.
Peter Cetera’s You Are My Inspiration was the song that made her relax on my broad and muscular chest. She was in paradise.
We touched, hugged and danced to each other upto the extent of having a Zero distance squeeze.
Her spear pointed like breasts acted as electrodes that circulated warmth to my body parts.
As we had a Zero distance squeeze, a war between my pants and the machete erupted which prompted me to tell her on how she was going to sleep at my place. Since Smirnoff Ice was at work, I faced a weak resistance and in a blink of an eye she was in my rented muzigo.
We had a shower together and then it was time to drill her oil wells.
We kissed passionately and as a taboo, I had to first get a fingers copy of her honey pot. The copy proved that Vanessa was worth my Smirnoffs since the pot was well enriched with warmth and El Nino
I quickly condomised my machete and I was ready to swing it on her honey pot. When I applied a western jazz aka Kunyaza on her, El Nino gushed out of her as if the source of river Nile was in between her legs. She mourned and could not fully say my name. Her mourning reenergized me and I tomahawked her honey pot until she started to speak in tongues. This is when I got to know that Vanessa was from the land of president Kagame (read Rwandese).
We bonked ourselves to cabbages as we applied different bonking styles. Till then I remain your truly Kyahuba!!!!
