I don’t think I will admit any drunkard at Kahawa Tungu any time soon. In fact, I have banned such characters from my café forever. This is after one of them did the unimaginable; he pooped on himself! Imagine!
All are welcome in Kahawa Tungu, apart from drunkards. You know, in my neck of the woods, mnazi has always wreaked havoc of all sorts for ages. It is a shame that Mututho and Co. are yet to regulate the consumption of this monster.
Reek
You see, most of those who take mnazi reek of the foulest of smells, which hits your nostrils and makes you think you are at a mortuary.
The only trouble, however, is that the drunkenness of this potent drink has a delayed effect that seizes long after one has drained the last drop. That is why it is hard to detect that a customer is high, until it hits him like a thunderbolt. Of course, by that time it is usually too late to evacuate customers so that they do not catch the flak when manure hits the fan.
Such was the case one chilly evening when the customers were gathered inside the café for a sundowner to help keep out the cold.
Homo erectus
A man by the name of Waloka walked in to have Kahawa Tungu with his friend. I studied the two who had a reputation of imbibing the juices from the palm tree, and only agreed to serve them after I was satisfied that they were walking as upright as the latest homo erectus on the planet.
They sat at a corner and signalled me to place a full steamer of kahawa tungu along with two tiny cups between them.
“Otherwise we shall freeze to death in this cold at a night, when our wives expect us to warm their beds,” Waloka said, to which his friend nodded vigorously in agreement.
“Can you two cookies afford what you have just ordered, or you are just out to cause trouble?” a customer wanted to know.
At that point, Waloka stood up and pulled a couple of wrinkled notes from his pocket and boasted, “I have enough to buy this joint plus its patron, but do I say!”
I placed in front of the two ‘tycoons’ my most special pot. The one that has all the fixings and additives, including the local Viagra and cinnamon.
They drank in silence until dung hit the fan; Waloka fell down and started trembling as though he was being electrocuted. His friend pointed at him, but his tongue was too heavy to describe what was happening to him.
Helter skelter
Hell broke loose as customers ran helter skelter. In a minute, the place smelled like it had been hit by a stink bomb. The two gentlemen had apparently succumbed to the effects of mnazi that they had imbibed copious amounts much earlier.
One vomited and the other had gone to the toilet right there in his pants. A terrible sight it was indeed. All the customers left. No one wanted to help in carting out the two drunks.
It was upon me to heave and push soiled men by myself until I finally dumped their bodies outside my door.
From that day, I swore never to allow mnazi drinkers into my establishment.
