HUMOUR: CHRISTMAS FROM A VILLAGE BUM’S PERSPECTIVE

By Kirong Shadrack

The Christmas season has reached a fever pitch and it is easy to tell. Not that I have spotted Santa Claus walking around my village. And doubt if that chubby fellow would leave the city and embark on our muddy roads. Tomorrow is the D-day. These days I have noticed Father Christmas runs on electricity.

Few days ago I saw a mechanical Santa with a mechanical face outside a supermarket in my town, and my drinking buddy thought it was real. We were part of a hired crowd who had gone to make up the numbers for an enthusiastic aspiring Senator. It was very embarrassing getting into an argument about it in front of all those people. My friend is such a village.

I like Christmas, because everyone is nice to the poor. At least they make an attempt to be nice. It is a particularly great time for the village bums. Between the politicians and the urban –based relatives, there is a lot of free alcohol around, gifts and promises to be delivered after the New Year.

Last year December Holiday, an aspiring MP donated a jerry can worth of local brew, all because we composed a praise song that must have really made him feel grand. We got so plastered the boys still talk about it one year later. Am told the said MP has since run out of money, I don’t see much of him, neither have I heard if he is still in the same race, a head of next year election. Ramours has it that he give up his candidacy attempt to another rookie, who understood the importance of keeping praise singers high on cheap liquor.

Well it is that time of the year when I really have a ball. My well – to –do relatives from the city will be around. Since I am the official village story teller, they really cannot have a kicking party without my valuable input. Everyone loves gossip. They are always curious to find out about every tit –bit of a story they got wind of back while in city.

Every year about this time, the village becomes quite vibrant. Not as many people come back like before, but a lot of the people who grew up will still show up to remind us how well – of they are in the city. For the first two days, they are always generous. We know the routine. The more they buy the more praise they get. Usually by the fourth day, they are broke, you will be lucky to get a twenty shilling to buy a credit card. Many of them prefer beer which is rather inefficient way of trying to get high. But you have to drink so much of stuff to get merry, not to mention the many visits to the loo!

I like the church people too, with their stories of salvation, telling us about how the baby Jesus is going to be born. They tell us to come to church but they always insist we seat at the back. The front seats are reserved for the visiting urban relatives who make generous donations. Our coins are not needed this time.
The only time church is interesting is during a wedding or a funeral. At least on both occasions you are guaranteed booze and food especially if it involves a prominent family. The other day a an aspiring politician called us for us for a Baraza in church and after talking what a humble servant of God he was and why he was the right person to be elected , he confidently offered us each a gorogoro of maize and wrinkled hundred shilling notes. Can you believe that?

Given his level of education, he should have realized that that the village nowadays has a cash economy. Even the mamas were not amused. I overheard some of them muttering and cursing under their noses, that the politician needed salvation for wasting their time. Having us walking all the way to the church to listen to his boring sermon for two kilos of maize! What a mean fellow. On that note I think I had enough! I can hear some loud speakers; some campaigners must be coming through. If can make it to road before the rest…will be a story for another day! Be tolerant with the villagers, after all it is a season for sharing!!

WISH YOU A MERRY XMASS AND HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!