Odikor insisted we watched Liverpool’s Champions League game from Okwaro’s Pub in Soroti. I was hesitant but being half-dragged with offers of steaks and all tribes of drinks to thank me for finally paying homage to the ancestors of ajon, I relented.
That was a mistake. Firstly, because I only watch Liverpool games while perched on a three-leg stool at home. Doubt my superstition all you want. The second mistake awaited us on the way after Atletico frustrations.
Odikor is Kop so the two of us were angry after the match. It was a long walk back to the brothel-hotel or hotel-brothel; whichever made sense. Not so for Man United fans Ojikan and Warom. They were noisier than crickets and locusts having sex in the night.
“Hope you didn’t bet on Liverpool win,” Ojikan teased Odikor.
“Where would a poor man like me get money to waste in betting?” Odikor replied glumly.
“Most bettors are poor,” Warom quipped.
And then it happened.
From the bushes emerged three men who started clobbering us like we were wearing locust costumes. A hard blow caught me just above my left eye socket and then another found itself in my central processing unit (CPU), the same as that Man United defender with a square head had done to Chelsea’s batman.
But, like Pallaso at the hands of 100 xenophobic South African mob, I refused to die. I extricated myself from the grasp of these assailants and ran back in the direction of Okwaro’s pub. The few patrons we had left behind grabbed whatever they could, one even carrying a plastic chair.
We ran back to rescue the others only to find them being dragged like abandoned basins. I peered at the spectacle through what was left of my eyes. The assailants were LDU personnel.
After a few verbal exchanges with the rescuers I had brought, the tension ceased. The guy who had grabbed plastic chair even sat in it.
“Is it true you guys were whining about poverty?” Okwaro asked me.
“Oh? Is there anything wrong with me saying I’m poor?” I fired back.
“Shhh! You’re new here, eh?”
“What’s wrong? Don’t you know even the locusts, only the most desperate ones have stopped over to mate for a few days on their way to better countries? We are all poor here.”
At this, one of the LDU guys grabbed me by collar and asked if I had spare pair of balls to use after he was done with me. Okwaro stepped in and explained that I was a visitor in the area. He then brought me up to speed.
“Our General has ordered that anyone found complaining about poverty be arrested,” he said in a half whisper.
It took me a while to put a head on the coiled pig’s tail of whatever Okwaro was saying. Wise men indeed hail from the east. For years Museveni has been promising and losing weight over ending poverty and delivering Uganda to middle income, yet all he had to do was unleash the General.
Can you imagine all the taxpayers’ monies spent in OWC activities and other interventions when all we needed to achieve everything was send the General to just speak?
It now makes sense. I saw so many buddies in Soroti borrowing accents and flossing fake wealth, kumbe it’s all to avoid the General’s wrath.
I wonder what the Chinese government are waiting for; shouldn’t Xi Jinping be giving Leo a call now pleading for the General’s intervention in Wuhan? I reckon with just some lofty orders, no one will die from coronavirus over there – unless they are foolish enough to risk the general arresting their cadavers!