It has been a helluva of boring week. We had wanted to enter into Fr Simon Lokodo’s brain and decode what kind of yeast is fermenting cancerous cells in there so that we at least come out and tell some of the oncologists among the doctors being exported what they have failed to diagnose in the caricature of a minister but it proved a tough try. Actually, it would have been easier to get judges to give Frying Pun a unanimous decision win over Floyd Mayweather than to enter Lokodo’s head.
The time we spent trying to figure out how to debug Lokodo only caused us mental overdrive and the result was suffering a writer’s block. With deadline approaching, we decided to send several questions to different persons and see what they would say. Some responded. That is how we managed to beat the deadline with this.
First off was Harry Sagara, aka, Saggy. We hit the son of Nebbi on Facebook, asking the now boring former wacky heartthrob why he has made cigarette inundate his libido so much that the idea of marriage makes him go flabby ‘down there’. “You must be a secondary virgin of so many years since Wacky World died. When do you make your ancestors proud?” we asked.
Saggy ignored the inbox message but after some hours, as if pondering how to respond, he went emotional like an actress who told everyone that her debut role would be in the mega movie premiering only for the cameo role to last just a sub-second. Saggy posted: My mother was a wacky one…. one time I brought her a beautiful Shepherd Puppy. I even got it its litre of milk, to my amazement, she kicked out the puppy, boiled the milk and enjoyed it while quarreling mbu, ‘I am here expecting a grandchild and all you do is bring me a puppy’ Now that she’s gone, I need to achieve her expectations. Let’s make mummy smile in her grave. I need a volunteer to make a kid with…any takers?”
One of Saggy’s Facebook friends, Piga Panga, responded, suggesting Praise Asiimwe would be the perfect volunteer. Saggy and Praise were rumoured to be an item back in the late 2000s when the man was a hit and on heat as a satire columnist. Praise was then still enjoying her moment of popcorn fame as former Miss Uganda and the two were often seen in happening places faking PDA (pubic display of adulthood).
In response, Saggy said what he needs now is not someone who will praise him but one to raise his kid. We have chosen to let Saggy die in his own movie.
The ‘fight of the century’ took place and there was always going to be one winner: Mayweather. It did not matter how much he was pummeled, he had to win. Memes were flying around mocking how the American spent the whole night ducking, running and hugging Manny Pacquiao and that is what we asked. Why hug your opponent yet he is a former domestic assault convict?
“Winners win, losers give excuses,” Mayweather said in his response. “In any case, if I hugged Manny, it is because boxing is like politics; it has no permanent enemies. We can even punch in pre-fight, during weigh-in and so on, but in the ring, the animosity has to end, it becomes a sport and friendship.”
We are not sure who wrote the response because Mayweather can neither read nor write. However, the email was clean with no grammatical mistakes.
“In the sweet science of boxing, it is okay to punch your ex-wife. You know why? Money. It’s all about money. Manny was the reason I was earning $14 million every twelve minutes and a woman is the reason you will lose $25 million in just a single court order. Would you rather hug the bitch or hug Manny? Yes, I ran, I ducked, I hugged Manny and got paid. If I hugged a woman, she gets ideas, ideas for my money. I don’t joke around when it comes to money. My world is about money. It’s money for The Money Team or nothing.”
We were too dumbfounded to write back.
The East African region has Letter K. From Kigali to Kinshasa, back to Kampala and to Kidodoma through Kisumu, everything is about Kenyatta, Kaguta, Kikwete, Kagame and Kiir. But some fluker called Pierre Nkurunziza of Burundi is a very black pea in a white pod. No wonder you will find him playing football surrounded by mean-looking guards while on the streets, citizens are being beaten to death by policemen for protesting. And after his game of soccer, this chap will go and announce that he is running for a sad term in office to prolong the sadness of the Burundians.
We asked him why. He had this to say.
“I am just not ready to leave. Besides, in African politics, when the people vote for you, you lose. There are a few exceptions, of course, but mango people in a typical banana republic vote using a mirror so that the reflection is actually what they mean. So when they go on streets and have themselves used as experiments to test our rifles, then it means they are urging me to stay on. I would be worried if all of them wanted me to stay for five more terms.”
Alive Hajia Emiola Adebayor is a mother from hell. Togolese soccer star Emmanuel Adebayor calls her mother, but we choose to differ. There is need for a DNA test. Emiola and her other ‘real’ children have been turning Ade into an ATM. They want monthly salary. So we tried to contact her.
“No comment. Absolutely no comment. I can’t talk about that monkey, a monkey is not my child. We have absolutely disowned him. Let him live in his money… alone. Absolutely alone.”