AS a co-truck driver, Lazzo was stuck at Mokambo border post as his journey got a jolt following a breakdown.
It had been a nerve-wracking drive from Lusaka through the Congo Pedicle which brought memories of ages-old harassment by that country’s nationals.
He recalled how one man was fined for having a baldhead and another for having a pot-belly!
It seemed those foreign nationals were out to make money on the slightest pretext.
This time round, he and his mate had decided to go at a watering hole on the fringes of the border post.
They headed straight to some dingy structure whose lighting system was  effected by a diesel power generator.
Having left the truck by the roadside, they headed to the watering hole teeming with that country’s patrons.
As they headed towards the counter, a cluster of people mobbed them and wanted to change some currency.
Lazzo was rattled a bit because he and his mate had not gone there for this purpose but wanted to socialise.
But it later dawned on him that he could only transact in that country’s currency.
The money changers had realised that Lazzo and his compatriot were Zambians who needed to change their Kwacha if they had to buy any drink at the watering hole.
They finally succumbed to the mandatory obligation to convert their money and settled at some table in one corner of the spacious room.
The large bottles resembled wine bottles that he had seen back home but he learnt that here, they were called ‘Simba’ bottles which he learnt meant ‘lion’.
At first, the urge to drink from the bottle was irresistible and for a moment, he began to think how these people spent their lives drinking from these large bottles!
But before he made the mistake to gulp from the large bottle, a man in his late twenties beckoned a waitress to bring two glasses to the table.
He filled everyone’s glass on the table leaving only one third of the contents.
Lazzo wondered what was going on and he fathomed an idea that perhaps, this was part of the intrigue that Zambians were accustomed to.
The old adage that ‘when in Rome, do as the Romans do’ came to mind as he nervously sipped from the glass and was wondering what next was coming!
He fears were dispelled when he saw the same man who had almost emptied Lazzo’s large bottle go to the counter and brought another large bottle.
Lazzo began to slowly understand that in fact, the communal style  of sharing alcohol here was the norm unlike back home where patrons guzzled straight from the bottle!
At the table outnumbered by men were two women whose light-skinned complexion made them look like coloured women in the glare of electric light.
As the pick-me-up effect gained momentum, he soon fell into conversation with one of them in Lazzo’s opinion had an embracing stance.
He had seen such women back home and this attitude was a signal that they were up for grabs as spinisters!
The men about the pair of females did not seem to mind them striking any instant relationship with Lazzo or his mate!
As minutes ticked away to an hour, Lazzo had been told that  one of the glamorous women’s name was Kilela.
Lazzo began to think that the name was a corruption of the English name of ‘Clara’.
She told Lazzo that in fact her home was a stone’s throw away from the bar behind and if he did not mind could spend a night there at a fee.
What turned out to be an initial short stay in that house finally became an overnight stay.
Lazzo’s mate who was apprehensive about the overnight indulgence appeared unsettled with prospect of  prolonged patronage!
He saw that Kilela and Lazzo had struck a deal and had slipped out of the watering hole to be shown Kilela’s house.
When Lazzo was not coming back in time, Lazzo’s mate decided to check but discovered that the door was locked and he only spoke through a closed window. “I have gone back to the truck and you will find me tomorrow.”
Lazzo’s  mate sauntered back to the truck having obtained a temporary pass at the border post for a day’s visit!
In the morning before midday, Lazzo was escorted by Kilela towards the borderpost with his heart in his mouth because he contemplated some questions from the border post staff.
Kilela stood at a distance when they reached the border post as Lazzo sauntered towards the exit point.  To his surprise no one talked to him and they simply let him file past to freedom!
He waved back at Kilela as she responded.  She had given Lazzo a head-and-shoulder picture as a memento and it was perched in one corner of his breast pocket.
This portrait made her look very  pretty and Lazzo thought she that she had the complexion of a black American!
During the time Lazzo had delayed, a passing truck from Zambia had stopped over and the driver had detected the fault in the engine.
Lazzo’s driver mate had decided to drive off on the understanding that Lazzo would hitch-hike his way forward through the Congo Pedicle!
This inevitable happened but back in Lusaka, officials at the company were worried about his whereabouts in the foreign land!
After passing through the Congo Pedicle, Lazzo’s mate had phoned the company officials explaining that his workmate was in foreign territory.
There was a flurry of meeting to establish his whearabouts and it had become a boardroom  issue when news filtered through that in fact, Lazzo had arrived in Mansa and the company officials had a sigh of relief!
When Lazzo arrived, he censured his mate for leaving him in a foreign stretch and he thought that this was an irresponsible act on the part of his workmate.
He equated this act to blackmail or treachery which he detested in the extreme!