GEORGE K
The prevailing circumstances in his life had made it necessary that Msope was surrounded and therefore obsessed by 'many' things foreign. So today as he descended upon downtown Citi to watch the EUFA Champions' league semi final between Inter Milan and Barcelona it was an important errand. Way early in the afternoon of a Tuesday.
Surely, if you knew the true picture of Msope you'd be baffled that a soccer match played far away in Europe is of such importance. He does not really care about those two names and the soccer. But somehow a sports event in Europe had taken such prominence Msope, a central African. Msope has never boarded a plane, a boat, a ship and a train. In fact he is so hopeless in overseas' travel that he does not have a passport. Why is he so obsessed with European soccer then? one might ask. The answer is simply as baffling as the question.
So today as the Msope considered attending one of the events to commemorate genocide in his area, a soccer match was crucial in his life to cause a crisis. See? no pub is allowed to open and sherekia in this period lasting through April to July, set aside to mourn fellow Bossman that have been sacrificed for the growth of the republic. But he knew he was not the only one whose fascination with European soccer had taken him from being a fervent love for Rayon Sport in Kigali to ARSENAL in UK. He said in his defense that even fans of music were listening to American Currie Underwood on Contact FM.
Shit, Msope said to himself.
Msope could not tell the point in time when he got hooked to this European lifestyle. A life of internet, connection and televisoin. When did 'things' foreign have such significance to Msope? How come the world is so closer to Msope today? Suddenly Msope was feeling, 'around.'
Yet soccer is not the only foreign obsession that the Msope had been attracted to in recent days. As part of his professional requirements. he also spoke a 'new' foreign language. It was necessary in shops, bars and workplaces. Since Msope started flirting with the new foreign language he also steered a global conversation about himself. At his work place there were people from all corners of the world, places he had never heard about. People who were fun and weird; interesting people.
As Msope heard in the bar later, there were current amusements within the Bossman Security, drama! Bossmen we love our drama. The folks and The SECurity were acting out Snowball and Napoleon. IN his Ipod Msope was listening to "who is fooling who?"
It was good drama season. The year had began with the entry of a Msopekazi. She was the ultimate drama queen Bossman had missed since many many years ago.
The name of the Msopkazi was not so awesome. It was popular way before the Victorian era. No. This is 2010 halfway through the big important number; 2020!
"That woman is as foreign as they come. Only sometimes she sounds more authentic when she says venti venti rather than my twenty twenty,' Msope whispered to himself. But that woman; "ni kama wale watu wingine wagenyi!" he thought aloud.
Breaking his animated conversation with the barman at the counter.
The two were taking bets on the pronunciation of Eyjafjallajökull. Apparently eyya jaa fujja la jo kal, had an impact on the performance of the Spanish team. "Don't you see Barcelone has endured a 16 hour bus drive instead of flying by plane. Eyya jah...... volcano ensured there were no flights in Europe." Msope was now educating himself on global warming, climate change and air travel in one week. You see? Msope had even risen his interest above local issues.
At best the events in his backyard intrigued him. It was like theatre, a George Orwell book. Since when did politics in Bossman get this active? He would ask. He laughed off the piece in the newspaper laid out on the counter which said that Victorian era woman was Now sending her greetings in a post card inscribed with the words; "See you later."
But other than the drama value local events had for him, Msope had nothing at stake really. Politics and patronage were indeed far away from him and his realm. His version of politics was defined and limited to Msope's fights with fellow Sopechas. These Fights were normally about the bill, the deal, the match. And about that son of a bitch Julius Malema?
It was always a difficulty finding middle ground. Sopechas and others did not speak through a unanimous and eloquent figurehead.Even the other sopes spoke different languages. this Did not bother Msope. Many other Sopechas had much more money than him and more education.
These were far more important fights than-who the hell holds some important fancy title and rank-fights. "And now I hear they are incarcerated eh eh." How come I never heard much about them in their good times roll?
The recent plays in Bossman theatre featured cool perspectives about The Security. The Security was a big dude. He was tall, big, muscled and scary. He wore dark glasses and as long as you never bothered him, he was cool to hang out with. But if you as much as raised his disinterest in you.
Eeh true Aki ya Mungu; (true of God).
He took care of business that even Mario Puzo would not figure him out. Recently somebody had annoyed him. The Security or otherwise known as Mutekano in Bossman speak was now kicking ass; you anticipate a meeting with John Rambo at some point. Hell, that kind of action is nolonger cool.
But these were the 'normal' descriptions of Bossman. On other days Citi was popular with the local and international, although Ordinarily there were so many suspicions in Bossman, Msope had learnt to get along with the action. Nowadays however, he had upgraded his concern about these suspicions to panic. Paranoid was just around the corner.
Surviving in Bossman required one to have both grit and sleaze in equal measure. "She must be a collaborator!" another Msope interrupted while the discussion about the Victorian woman got heated. These Sopechas are crazy!
NO, another responded. She is a Dubai and others say he is a Musajja but I think she is as Msope as I am.
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