Meeting a sugar mummy
Oct 28, 2005
<b>THE ROVER</b><br>The guy I met at Alleygators, Garden City, was a broker of no ordinary kind. At first, he wanted sh50,000 to connect me to a rich Hajat. I asked him if I looked like a starved man and he melted into the crowds.
The guy I met at Alleygators, Garden City, was a broker of no ordinary kind. At first, he wanted sh50,000 to connect me to a rich Hajat. I asked him if I looked like a starved man and he melted into the crowds.
After a second thought, I sought him out, but told him I would only pay after the harvests. It would make a good Rover story. He still made me buy him a drink. I loved the idea of a Hajat. If she had connections, we could write a project proposal on how Amin’s body could be returned. That way, I would find myself on the organising committee. We cannot fail to save over half of the possible sh800m.
I found that Hajat knew me all along and had actually sent this cousin of hers, who claimed he was a broker, to coax me into a rendezvous
We met at Mukwano Shopping Centre, the former UTC park. After 6:00pm, the place transforms itself from a shopping centre into a number of drinking joints that extend beyond their verandas to cover the entire parking space. Each of Phio’s Downtown Restaurant, The meeting Point, Shining Star Restaurant, MargieLax Restaurant, Happy Endings Restaurant and Shed café have a different colour of seats and take customers according to the seat one has sat on.
A waitress led me from my 4X4 to one of the tables with a ‘Reserved’ placard, where I was told Hajat would join me soon. It turned out she was a proprietor of one of the restaurants-that-turns-into-bars at night. But the only drink available was beer and UG, which was hidden under the counters!
Hajat was a reflection of wealth; fat, orange-brown skin, nice straight perm, silk-rich robe and rich lipstick, gold bangles and necklaces all over her. She begged me not to call her Hajat because of the type of business she was running. So I called her Sarah.
She explained that her landlord, Mukwano, forbade them to sell any spirits at his premises. In fact their tenants’ agreement prohibits anything, whose middle name is alcoholic. But it had nothing to do with Obote’s kidneys. Mukwano’s religion was the cause. He eventually accepted only beer because Ugandans could not get used to the idea of food without a cold beer.
But he swore to shoot down any spirit as soon as it landed on his soil. I wanted to play hard to get and Sarah did not seem to know how to seduce a big man like me. When I declared I wanted to leave, she did not plead that I stay. We ended up promising each other to meet again. I don’t know whether I missed a chance or the chance missed me.
Ends
After a second thought, I sought him out, but told him I would only pay after the harvests. It would make a good Rover story. He still made me buy him a drink. I loved the idea of a Hajat. If she had connections, we could write a project proposal on how Amin’s body could be returned. That way, I would find myself on the organising committee. We cannot fail to save over half of the possible sh800m.
I found that Hajat knew me all along and had actually sent this cousin of hers, who claimed he was a broker, to coax me into a rendezvous
We met at Mukwano Shopping Centre, the former UTC park. After 6:00pm, the place transforms itself from a shopping centre into a number of drinking joints that extend beyond their verandas to cover the entire parking space. Each of Phio’s Downtown Restaurant, The meeting Point, Shining Star Restaurant, MargieLax Restaurant, Happy Endings Restaurant and Shed café have a different colour of seats and take customers according to the seat one has sat on.
A waitress led me from my 4X4 to one of the tables with a ‘Reserved’ placard, where I was told Hajat would join me soon. It turned out she was a proprietor of one of the restaurants-that-turns-into-bars at night. But the only drink available was beer and UG, which was hidden under the counters!
Hajat was a reflection of wealth; fat, orange-brown skin, nice straight perm, silk-rich robe and rich lipstick, gold bangles and necklaces all over her. She begged me not to call her Hajat because of the type of business she was running. So I called her Sarah.
She explained that her landlord, Mukwano, forbade them to sell any spirits at his premises. In fact their tenants’ agreement prohibits anything, whose middle name is alcoholic. But it had nothing to do with Obote’s kidneys. Mukwano’s religion was the cause. He eventually accepted only beer because Ugandans could not get used to the idea of food without a cold beer.
But he swore to shoot down any spirit as soon as it landed on his soil. I wanted to play hard to get and Sarah did not seem to know how to seduce a big man like me. When I declared I wanted to leave, she did not plead that I stay. We ended up promising each other to meet again. I don’t know whether I missed a chance or the chance missed me.
Ends