WHEN DIKEMBE COMES BACK... (The Shamba Boy series)

By Maalim Salat
When Dikembe comes back from the land of Obama, I will have so much to tell him that he will never dream of going back to that land of white skinned human beings. I see the Americans as people with burnt skin because in the village where I come from, there is no white human being. None of the elders ever talked of human beings with white skin except those men who were burnt by their wives when the husband sees the bahali yake of another woman. However, I have gone to school and learnt that people who use dollars to buy omena develop white skin.

When Dikembe comes back, I will tell him how the My University has transformed from analogue to Uhuruto. I will take him to Hostel-A where I live with some of my village mates. I will make him a cup of tea and a glass of maziwa ya ngamia before telling him about our new deputy headmaster who forced us to enter the hostels through laptops. You see, these days you do not need to have a capital-T at the end of your name to get a room. There is no need to smile at janitors in order to get a room. All you need is to have the computer that can be folded and I you do not have one, kuna nafasi stage.

I got a very beautiful room in Hostel-A because I happened to get to have the computer that can be folded which can only be found in the university, at least according to my family in the village. Let me take you back to the extra-long holiday that we went for. Before I went for the holiday, I decided to get a second-hand laptop from a reformed goon in the name of Macharia at a cheap price on condition that I vote for him when we return. Next week, I will tell you how all the girls in the village wanted me for a husband when I showed them the miracles my laptop, the computer that can only be found in the yolofasity, could do.

When Dikembe comes back, I will tell him how I entered my room through the laptop and never produced my ID at some of the offices to prove that I have capital-T at the end of my name.

I will also tell Dikembe how I wanted to become the chairman of the My Univerisity Shop Owners (MUSO) and how my dream was thwarted by a section of those who went to Nakuru last year to get us HELB which is found in Nairobi. If I were to become the chairman of the shop owners, I would have transformed the administration block into a hostel so that those living in diaspora can have a place to call home. The guys from Nakuru convinced the dean that I do not deserve to own a shop.

I will tell Dikembe about the about the people who are competing to get the shops and go to America next year. I will tell him of our future Doghanas with some names that sound like Nyefnyef Kenyatta and Titus Nyang’au. There is also another one but if I mention his name here, I will find my mass at the senate. It sounds that weird.

I will also take him to the School of Human Resource Development, that place where journalists are trained without a radio to practice with, and show him the fixed seats at the hall where he and I once listened to boring lectures and wrote notes on our laps. That is why we walk the same style with bent backs.

Before he gets up and thanks me for the maziwa ya ngamia, (it will sound like thenk yew because he is from America) I will ask him the final question which is about whether he changed his name from Dikembe to Johnson Dikindizi.

Don’t miss the humour every Wednesday.