Dear Diary, I may have been banished from my own room, never to relish the softening touch of my pillow or duvet in the first night hours at campus. I never got the welcoming sweetening sex session my roomie [Hilda] is just receiving now here I am outside my hostel gate stranded in the cold with ideally no idea of how or what I’m to do with my life for these next four hours.At the gate, these strong howling winds blowing over my bare skin make me whimper, my harness hurt badly, I fell my thigh flesh being scoured. Am I dreaming or is this the omen that I had to face reality to?
“Hey cutie by the poster.” A blurred voiced echoed through my ears. “I am a big girl.” my alter ego once again rescues me. I slapped the dust off my top, whipped the gashing tears running down my cheekbones, sobered while I raised my neck to eye who had called out to me in the dark. Astonishingly it was a tall, handsome guy probably a Mukiga, judging by the huge caves to his legs and wide jaw lines. His athletic body and huge biceps rose my oestrogen hormones [matter of fact it all felt like multiple orgasms whenever I starred at them]. His articulate English when he spoke totally put me into trance; I had fallen for this guy already.
He offered me his purple blazer to warm my now frozen body and offered me a cup of coffee. Like two new love birds, arm in arm we footed to Cafe Javas a Nakawa up class stylish hangout parlor. It was the longest albeit best time of my evening.
At the Javas, he and I got to know each other. He was Tommie Kasule but his pals called him Tom an upcoming model attached to one of Kampala’s prominent modelling agency, I was Vex not Ritah for this particular occasion. The first round of coffee accompanied by simple chicken burgers flowed in.
We talked school, friend’s, social media for build up conversation. Soon enough we were drowned into the jazz and went in for some intimate talk. He spoke of how he and his girl friend were currently at logger heads and few hours back he had just stormed out of his hostel room at Dofra. It’s at this juncture that I got to know, Tom and I are block neighbours and had much in common; we watched the same genre of movies, had similar tastes in music, lovers and astonishingly he too loved and read JK Rowling’s Harry Potter book series.
Tom’s satirical conversations about MUBS lecturers and miniature MPS put a smile to my mouth. I was so receptive for whatever the waiter offered us since I knew all was on Tom’s wallet. Here I was living the normal MUBS Nakawa girl’s dream.
And finally it was time to pay the bill, the waiter placed the bill totalling to 97,000 Ugandan shillings only. The bill worried me a little but was calmed by the Tom’s “it’s ok I got this” confident attitude.
Tom placed two 50,000 shilling gorilla notes on the bill and excused himself for the washrooms. He stroded to the exit doors where he vanished. Thirty minutes later the waiter crushed back to my table, refunded the now punched gorilla notes terming them as counterfeits. Confabulated and still hexed by the Masaka village syndrome, I tried to ask the workers here to go back at hostel and pick the money but no sympathy was showed. More to the fire, neither had I moved with any money nor have an ID to differentiate me from popular Nakawa – Ntinda hookers.
They showed me the way to the kitchen washroom where I washed dishes and scoured saucepans while crying ferociously. I had just been de-toothed and conned by Tom, The MUBS Model. This was the most embarrassing moment of my life.
Back at the hostel, I narrated this whole absurd ordeal to Hilda my roomie who with utmost civility consoled me and advised me never to go out on a date without a plan B. So to boys its payback time, don’t get surprised if I lose my budgeting math near your wallets. Till next Saturday it’s been yours sincerely Ritah The Monger.
