My version of ‘Tujuane’ charm school an unmitigated disaster

By MAFTAH YUSUF

Even as all other businesses are crumbling, churches are thriving in spite of the wave of terrorism sweeping the country. We know that even as other businesses suffer the consequences of advisories against the Government and the people of Kenya as a result of fraternising with their Somali neighbours, pastors are still growing fat.

Since I cannot recite verses of the Bible like preachers down at Jevanjee Gardens and their colleagues who preach the good word to passengers in PSV buses, I have decided that I am going to reap from the opportunity that dating presents.

I will be the dating guru everyone comes to for advice on matters of the heart. I will teach the faint-hearted to be bold in order to excel in the art of seduction.

I shall make them ooze with the scent of attraction that no woman can resist. And all I have to use is my experience over the years of taming Michelle who suffers from a serious case of Princess Complex.

My mantra is, if I could do it, so can you.

“Madam, I am starting an agency advising men on how to deal with stubborn women and I want you to be my lab rat,” I casually tell her one day.

Michelle is not sure she heard me right. “Me, your experiment subject? p-lease!” she dismisses me.

Michelle behaves like a baby and most of the time and I am forced to break everything down for her to understand.

“All you have to do is be at your meanest to test whether my therapy can work on a client,” I told her.

Michelle agreed just for the drama the whole thing would generate. She vowed that the only man who could pass through her iron-clad defences will be the one dripping money as she was immune to mistari.

I, however, had other ideas, I would use Michelle to build up the confidence of the losers I will be treating.

In short we were doing a sort of close door stage-managed Tujuane whose outcome shall be predetermined.

I set up a website advertising to all losers that they, of course with our help can date the women of their choice with no problem at all. “Just visit Timbuktu the dating guru for all your love solutions. Our therapy guarantees to make you irresistible,” read the promotion in part.

Initially we just got a few clients who assured us that they suffered from Charm Deficiency Syndrome.

“I shall make you fellows learn how to develop the attitude required to be successful,” I told them when they gathered for the first session.

“I want to test the skills you taught us, Mr Timbuktu,” announced the one who had been looking at Michelle like a person fresh from prison.

“You first have to pass a test so that your success will be guaranteed,” I told him.

We then set up Michelle in a room and I told the fellows that she belonged to the man who would “tune” her successfully. “But only those who have paid their fees can progress to that stage,” I reminded them.

To my disappointment, only two paid while the rest complained that the fee was too high for them.

“Besides, we need to be sure that we shall get real value for our money,” said one of them. He later loudly said that since he started the therapies, he was yet to get a woman to submit to his advances and, therefore, he had doubts about the charm school.

“Women can only submit after I declare you ready and not before. That is why I insisted that women are very clever and can tell a fake lover a kilometre away. If you don’t want to graduate it will be your own funeral,” I told them in my no-nonsense tone.

I then ushered the two who had paid to test their skills with the blonde next door. We had agreed with Michelle that she would don a wig and makeup. She was to look as spoilt as a secondary school girl gone bad.

She was in the next room sitting on a stool pulling her most innocent look as she sipped a drink.

“I dig your style,” the first guy going in started.

“I can only believe you after you tell me what exactly is the style you are talking about,” she told the guy.

That caught the fellow unawares and he scratched his head for inspiration.

“I mean, you remind me of my childhood sweetheart, “ he blurted.

“You mean when you look at me you see someone else. Don’t you think I have feelings. Why do you hurt me even before we are introduced?” she demanded to know.

With things getting out of hand so fast, I jumped in like a director yelling at the top of my lungs, “Cut! Cut!”

I then looked at Michelle for an explanation. “I thought we had agreed you will make it easy for these guys,” I accused her after pulling her aside.

“Your people are so pathetic I can’t stand them.”

In the other room, someone was knocking loudly. “We want our money back,” my two students were chanting.

Looks like my project had gone horribly wrong.

Luckily, the receipts clearly stated that there would be no refund.

However, it was clear that the only option left for me was to get rich was to register a church.

I have started studying the Bible. There must be plenty of inspiring verses in there the other pastors haven’t read!