Beware of who you sleep with in the X-Files village
Have you ever laid on bed feeling well; better than yesterday, then wake up when all your joints are paining? Then the head, oh, it feels like Bebe Cool has decided to launch his “Kabulangane album” from in there with Eminem and Lil Wayne as the guest artists? You try to rise up so that you can untuck your shirt or at least unbuckle your belt, but then you realize even your eyebrows are defying nature like Raila Odinga resisting Kenyatta.
There is a lot to explain that feeling. But then you try to recall all sins you committed and you ask all Gods and gods for forgiveness; You first deal with the Christian God who is jealousy, you then remember that Allah could after all be God and you can’t stand to miss out on the 72 virgins. In a flicker, you see the image of all your dead relatives and friends, but those who were ardent believers in the witchcraft. They are all smiling as they welcome you. You change to pray, “basambwa munjette”, but soon as you say it, you feel like Bebe Cool is now performing his “cokodiosis” and the guy is jumping in your head. The headache is now not only aching but punching like Nagy’s punches that downed Golola. You head back to a Christian prayer but then, damn, Pope Benedict changed the commandments and you can’t remember all. You switch to Our Lord’s prayer but then, you can’t recall which line Pope Francis edited.
You turn once, twice, the third lands you on the floor but since your brother is in the next room watching Agataliko, no one hears the thud. You suddenly start seeing things of the past, you gasp for breath, try to grapple, trying to hold on to life but your body faculties have all decided to defy you.
You remember how Chiwenga betrayed Mugabe then bleak! bleak! bleak, you are not in charge anymore, you have lost the battle.
You wake up; as if in the other world and it is true Bugembe is God. You try to reach for your pockets to do it Ugandan style but then you wonder what price may my sins cost: you remember all the one night stands, you ask for forgiveness, the two votes you cast for your MP just because the official mistakenly gave you two ballots. You try to figure out how much but then you recall that your December salary was not paid in time.
You try to figure out as the people behind you push to the front, the queue has stopped moving and all because of you. You “swallow a pin” and decide to face Bugembe but then you realize he is just your brother, not Bugembe. You smile, reach out for his hand but before the grip you wake up from the nightmare, the song next door blasting is called “Ani ayinza okutuula katonda watuula” by Wilson Bugembe. You then hit your head onto the bed stand.
It is what I went through last night, all because of these young ladies I slept with the other week when I was away from home. I then recall how many times I have urged my village mates, my colleagues to always take precaution but then thought am somehow immune. Then the inconvenience that makes you push it away and the thought that these could be the causes of cancer, and then the fact that the atmosphere is already hot making it difficult to cover yourself with a blanket, how can you sleep under a mosquito net. So the lady mosquitoes feast on you all night but your only concern is the swelling below the nose and the one protruding on the forehead.
You realize it could be malaria, the thought of being in bed 3 days amidst the numerous errands.
That is the pain of not sleeping under a mosquito net!