IT’S Thursday, May 1 2014.  It’s been long since I shocked my wife by showing up home at 07:15hrs, my clothes all mud you have no way of telling their original colour!
Thank God, whatever it is, I was doing last night to end up spending it in a drainage full of muddy water, I was a bit lucky in that it was not accompanied with a beating.
Usually we get beaten up along the way to getting into such awkward situations. I know I must have been so sloshed when I cannot remember a thing about what transpired for me to be in the situation I found myself in this morning.
And this has happened once too often: I went with my wife’s car and now she is so peeved that I have been dropped by taxi and I have no idea where her Starlet is. Truly guys, I am that foolish today.
I normally do get to know later when I contact Stakes ‘Girls’ Chitambo or Dexter Kabotolo where I left the car or where they took it.
I hope I was with them because if I wasn’t, we could end up retrieving only a shell – the red-eyed and heavily scarred township boys are quick to discover unguarded items available to be stripped for ready cash!
But gee, what a mess I am. And what a headache too. As if that is not enough, these stupid rascals, our twins Pachikani and Mpachikeni are teasing me whether my muddy look is the attire I am going to march in, past the President at Freedom Statue.
Its Labour Day today and people are wearing their designer stuff and… silly boys!
How can anyone go marching past His Excellency the President looking the way I do?
Won’t the Head of State use every minute of the ceremony to call me names? You know him, don’t you!
Yes you do, so don’t dare talk nonsense boys. (i) Your dad got so drunk he didn’t know which way to go. (ii) He fell into a muddy drainage. (iii) He was too drunk to get up and out. (iv)
He thus spent the night in there till the beer got dissolved and and its toxic hold on his faculties quenched in his system (naturally) through sleep and passage of time. Now he is safely back home, so give him some water to clean up.
After that, we can go looking for mum’s Toyota Starlet (Now where the hell could I have left that damn little car?)
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What kind of braai was that they served us at the work place after we had happily marched past His Excellency the President at Freedom Statue on Labour Day?
All the women, without exception, suffered from instant diarrhoea, while for the men… it was total disaster!
Some suffered the same diarrhoea, while more than a few others started feeling like they had been served an overdose of aphrodisiacs (call it mitototo, seven-hours and the like)!
This might sound funny or ridiculous or both but I am dead serious!  It happened to us.
A good cross section of the male species at the International Institution were desperately complaining that, while they didn’t mind such stuff being sneaked into their food (if at all that’s what had happened), they had made no prior dates with any ladies so all thanks to that Labour Day braai, there would possibly result a lot of unplanned unthinkable things happening all over the City of Lusaka that day.
And no one should dare blame us if we got tossed into some nondescript police cells or got subjected to instant justice beatings in the townships for attempted rape, defilement or even chasing after skirts for which some men paid bride price decades ago!
We were just feeling feelings induced by something put in the food we ate at the office Labour Day braai.
We were all eager to find out who had prepared that food and what on earth they had put into it which could be so potent as to cause half the male population at the International Institution to start feeling irie while the fair sex were all, without exception, running to and making endless queues at the door to the Ladies!  .
Theywere not amused, the women, you know! Diarrhoea, even when not serious, is no joke.
Worse still when it causes all the embarrassment of being seen desperately waiting for each other to use the two ladies’ toilets at the institution, in some instances jumping about trying to hold the pressure.
It was BAD, I tell you on Thursday!  Thank God Mr Mabesere quickly thought it wise to allow the women use all the loos including the two Gents’ ones while the gents should go use the one at the guard house by the gate!
While the women seemed to have come off the worse, on first glance, unplanned changes in the male systems are also no joke at all and the men were equally in real trouble.
In no time at all, we could all read ‘scandals’ on the wall!  The writing on the wall was clear!  This day would end with trouble for many people.
Now this is very bad. We have holy men at the International Institute who were now being subjected to temptations, you see.. This is not good, I tell you
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You can trust DeogrataKamugode to be behind every naughty and nasty thing at our work place which has the smell of sex.
We heard rumours later that she was the one who provided the spice they used at the braai which caused all the commotion with our women suffering from diarrhoea – including Deoherself – and some men to start searching for sex partners in broad daylight! That woman must be stopped, I tell you. Life is not all about sex!
When are we going to work and prosper if we have women in our midst mixing food they know will be served to the public with stuff that will provoke sexual appetites?
And if it’s true, management must deal with her! I saw, without doubt, that the boss, JJ Chilalamumpoto was affected in the same way as some of us.
I am telling you, don’t argue, you were not there! He walked away from that braai with both his hands in his trouser pockets because it was going to show that he… he… er, you know what I mean!
When asked if it was true she had spiked the lot of us at the International Institution with an aphrodisiac, Deograta was furious.
“Mwabefipuba (You are idiots)!” she screamed at no one in particular.  “Lyonse ngamwaumfwa ifyakutumpa ati Deo, Deo (Each time you hear stupid things you want to link me to them)! Fusek!  Do you think am can have money to buy mitototo for everyone at International Institution?
For what as if all of them they are my boyflend! Mwalitumpa mwefipuba mwe, kabiyeni kukomboni nganamulya seven hours balemilolela amaule yenu (You are stupid you fools just go to the townships if you have taken seven hours (an aphrodisiac) your prostitutes are waiting for you).”
Chapter closed!!
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