CAUGHT IN ‘BULL’S EYE’ – BY MUKAYA KELVIN

With the conditions extremely cold and wet, everyone is doing it or so they say. And I must confess that I am no exception. A man will always look for a place where to put down his head when the weather goes cold. The arrival of first years makes it even simpler and better thanks to the new systems in place I must commend the administrator. With the new academic calendar in place, things are so unpredictable that you can easily commit a crime and walk away with it. By that I mean the 10pm to 10 am rule and its ‘results’.  It sounds funny but also it is a concrete fact.

Last Tuesday I had this chance that I could not afford to let it go! Having a fresh blood just for your self is such a rare and real experience in campus. Cometh the hour cometh the man.  I took the bull this time not by its horns but rather by its tail. The dancing was so great considering the fact that I was the only one aware of the rhythm we were dancing to. The first move was not so difficult.  Rule number one, be ready for the occasion and for my case I wore my faded dark blue suit, a green shirt and a red tie. My friends can tell you that I rarely put on official clad so this was a unusual experience; even if you call my dressing code a walking rainbow I don’t care, she liked it anyway.

Having perfected my linguistic skills and upgraded my vocabulary RAM, creating a rapport was no big issue. “Hae pretty one, what a good pasque flower shaped dress! What a lovely day that the gods saw it well to fling a likening of mesembryanthemum with a beatific so vibrant. I must own up that you are a wrasse of my waters. My ticker has no doubt that you are the pace setter of my existence.”

Slowly and steadily I was making the move that any typical man can make. And soon, both parties were reading from the same page. We were having such a smooth chat though at times I could get tensed although could perfectly cover it up by adjusting my tie back into position even when it had not moved an inch.  As the conversation went on there came the hour when we had to part and may be, do the normal ‘bits and pieces’. All this time I had perfectly concealed my accent. In other word I had tried as much as possible to run away from my mother tongue accent but all over a sudden she came out this time louder. “Wacha niende kuwatch papa sirandura” by now I know you are looking at my name to exactly tell my speech community but that is not the issue. As if she had not gotten it she pardoned me to come up again, “ati sirawhat?” “No I meant chilandura, holy crap! The second one was so pathetic than the first one. My accent did not matter here but what I had said in between the conversation- I am a media student eyeing to work with the CNN very soon. Gosh! With such grammatical slip-up! I wish I had not said it in the first place.

“Are you crazy! How dare you use such big vocabularies that you cannot tell the meaning and miss such a simple word? Am not that contemptible!”

That is how Belinda left. Thanks heaven I had saved her contacts, I’ll check with her.

 

The writer is a 2nd year, LMC

School of Arts And Social sciences

 

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