A Luo man confuses waitresses with his eloquence

On Saturday, the good son of Mbugua came to my office and said to me, “good old man from the hills, I have some Kenyatta’s heads to throw” so I had no option but to close my office and follow the good son from the slopes of Mt. Kenya to Kinyanjui’s bar to warm my stomach with nicely brewed Chania waters.

On the way to Kwa Tina bar, I noticed that the unselfish son of Mbugua had sent out emissaries to other wise men who joined us on this important mission of enlightenment. Among the wise men, there was Otieno, the son of Mboya from the banks of Lake Victoria who was elegantly dressed in a silky three piece suit made in the land of pope, nail sharp pointed cowboy shoe and the Baba Raira’s orange scurf finished the fifty thousand Kenyatta’s heads worthy of wardrobe.

So we entered Kwa Tina and received a warm welcome from half-dressed descendants of Mumbi who could make prophet Awuor think of heaven as a farfetched wish. The famous Vunja Mifupa by Samba Mapangala was slowly and surely serenading the drinking wise men into generous angels and the daughters of Mumbi were taking full advantage of whatever the salaried men threw their way. The son of siaya’s suit announced our importance and the proprietor came rushing with ‘sir………..sir’ making a conjunction of every sentence he uttered while addressing our very important figure.

We were shown into a VIP table with VIP damsels making us comfortable in every aspect and taking our orders. So the son of Mboya took honors of ordering the best of Chania Waters on the offering. He took a long study of the on offer list and decided it was a sin if his comrade and learned friend, the son of Lumumba from the lakeside region, caught wind that his age mate had deserted the oath of sophistication and partook a laymen’s English. So Otieno cleared his throat and solemnly announced, “I, Mac-Otieno the biological son of the great Mboya who happened to have a cordial relationship with the departed father of Baba Raila, I order you gentle divine messengers to gift us with the best taverns of wine on the rocks”. I was left scratching the arid part of my head as the girls stood perplexity with the eloquence of the man in a silky suit. Mbugua came for the aid of poor damsels and ordered pints of Sacramento for men and Machozi ya simba for the girls. We made merry till we forgot our sight somewhere in Kinyanjui’s bar.