Thursday, December 1, 2016


NOW if you are a poor African boy like me, you know that witches play an important part of your destiny. What I hate about these guys is they only bring bad luck on people they know. If you come from the same village with a witch or live in the same house or street, or if you are related in one way or the other, only then will they want to get you. I hate the tactics that they use to bring disasters. If you have made some money through a deal or maybe you have received your retirement benefit, and you start asking around for advice from friends and relatives, on what would be the best business for you, if you unfortunately a witch gets a hint that you have come into money, they would give you what you might think is a great advice. 'Son buy a car and make it a taxi' or ' Start a tomato farm my son, its going to bring you a lot of money' or maybe 'Start a pub, people love drinking you will make a lot of money'. Two months after buying a taxi, it will get into a nasty accident, wrecking the the car completely. A month after starting the pub you become the best customer of your own pub, drinking your self to poverty. The year you start your tomato farm is when the price of tomatoes gets to the lowest in ten years. This is not a coincidence, it is the witches at work believe me. Yesterday something happened to me that again is a proof these terrible people are still busy. I woke up with only 1000/-in my pocket. My stomach was rumbling with hunger, I went to a nearby, 'Mama Ntilie Banda'. I ordered a cup of tea, one chapati and a bowl of beans, that would cost me 500/- and I would be okay for the morning. The 500/- change was enough for transport to go to the city center to try my luck looking for  something that would pay. While sipping my tea, my eyes catch sight of a 1000/- note some one had dropped. I quietly and expertly pulled it with my toes and stepped on it. God is good suddenly I was 1000/- richer. So I ordered another round of what I was eating. I picked the 1000/- note from under my foot and paid up. I got on to a bus and headed for the city center. My whole world crashed when the conductor asked for his fare. I searched in every pocket and I didn't have a cent. Then it hit me, the money I thought somebody else had dropped at 'Mama Ntilie's' was actually my own money. This was obviously the work of witches, I cursed them tears running down my cheeks, I awaited for my fate.

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