My good friend Chilungamo Chidziwike and I drank like fish at Sports Café that day until midnight when, in our drunken wisdom, we decided to call it a night.
We emptied our open bottles and paid K100 bottle deposits for each of the remaining four and made our way out.
But just as we were about to leave, we saw Flora of ‘the nearer the bone the sweeter the meat’ fame alight from a taxi.
For starters, my friend Chilungamo has a soft spot for pencil-like ladies and he would reason with you ‘the nearer the bone the sweeter the meat’ if you asked him why.
“Chilungamo!” Flora screamed, hugging my good friend Chilungamo. I salivated and pretended I had not seen anything.
Since that day we met Flora and her cousin Laura at Sports Café, we had not seen nor heard anything about the two, save for reports that they had relocated to the central region district of Kasungu where, according to our reliable source, the demand had hit record high following good prices for tobacco at the auction floors.
“Flora!” Chilungamo said, throwing his arms round her waist. “Long time no see!” he said, almost kissing her.
That our decision to be going home was now null and void was certain as Chilungamo led Flora to the counter, staggering his way through the forest of imbibers on the dance floor.
“Storm.” Flora told the barman.
My good friend Chilungamo and I exchanged glances.
You know, women can be ungrateful and insensitive sometimes. You try to be kind and generous by offering them a drink, they will go for something very expensive than what you, the ‘Good Samaritan’, are taking.
“Two please for my beautiful lady here” Chilungamo said.
There must be something about women that makes men forget thinking. Here is a friend of mine who, a couple of minutes ago, was telling me the only money left on him was meant for a pail of maize for his children and wife at home but was now splurging it on this crook of a woman!
We occupied the chairs we were occupying before Flora came. “So mlamu.” I set the ball rolling, fighting back my displeasure, “Where have you been all these days?”
“Mzimba.” She replied, adding “Cheering my sick grandmother.” My good friend Chilungamo and I looked at each other. When has Kasungu become Mzimba?
Just then, Flora’s phone rang and she excused herself to pick the call.
“She’s lying.” I told Chilungamo, “Did you note the panic as she tried to answer my question?”
“I did.” Chilungamo, said. “Have I told you she almost cost my marriage that day?”
“Who? Flora? How?” I asked.
“Flora, yes.” he said, picking up his beer. “After we had parted that day you had Laura, I took Flora to a room.” He guzzled his beer and put the bottle down.
“Did your wife catch you red handed?” Curiosity welled up in me.
“Not that.” He replied, “The mission was accomplished in its fullness and she gave me an extra round for satisfying her that day.”
I roared with laughed.
“So what happened?” I asked later on.
“I was drunk, you know,” my good friend said, helping himself to his bottle again. “I was too drunk to remember to remove the rubber.”
I could not believe my ears. How could somebody of Chilungamo’s experience do that?
“You mean you went home with the rubber still on?” I asked.
“That’s it.” Chilungamo answered.
I shook my head.
“But mlamu could have at least appreciated the fact that you used protection,” I heard myself saying.
“That was my point too but your mlamu could hear none of it,” Chilungamo said.
‘So, how did it go?” I asked.
Chilungamo was about to go answer my question when Flora returned and took her seat.