The diary of Mr. Sabuni: Juba madness!
Outgoing and the incoming Juba residents whispering sweet nothings to each other.
Juba boys have nowadays resorted to steal the girls hearts through religion. If the fellow learns that the girl or chic resides from Mauna, they try to convince her to soften her heart by buying her a plate of pork and shower the tables with beer bottles.
My research (please don’t dare ask me where I got this research) has revealed that 90% of Juba chics enjoy any type of food whether bush fire1. To our Gure ghettos, this is referred to as #TeamSleepLate. And the popular bush joints include the whole of Juba. A plate goes for as little as one hundred ssp, too cheap for a wheel barrow pusher
At Malakia, the simplicity way is to learn some Arabic words. Boys use words like…asalam aleikum, allahimuddilah, and insha allah….and most important one must be circumcised. Here booze sounds like hell that is in case hell does exist.
These kind of Juba girls consume a lot of chicken, chips, chaps. And all they know best rotates around the letters ch…ch. So guys intending to fall in love with the chics should be careful.
For my brothers and sisters in Kator, one must be or pretend to be a born again. Because once you take her out on a date, she will ask you to say a prayer first. And be ready to continuously say Amen every after her statements.
These chics are however not so costly if you can afford to buy them things like ice cream, mangoes, and a few latest brands of sweets on the streets of Konyokonyo. They also enjoy evening rides, so a car is a must.
Next time The Juba babes will bring you what softens the hearts of University of Juba students. That’s why I don’t give a damn to these chips and chaps goons and today I need to tell Ponny where my heart lies therefore:
My useless ladies who promised to tell me something, kindly get warned that I have no time to waste. So I will jump straight into the fray and take the bull by its horns. First, this edition is not just directed to you but to some girls out there who think they can make the first move on a guy and get away with it. So, please share this with that assemblage of busy bodies you call friends and tell them that we can’t keep up with the speed at which they are running after our souls. Call us slow brothers if you want, but we need some breathing space. Honestly, we need it.
By the way, I was supposed to write this article on a toilet tissue but I considered the matter and wondered who still writes letters on toilet paper except some inane high school brats. As in, who does that? That’s how you survived the embarrassment.
Sorry, for digressing but you promised to tell me something, and though you haven’t yet told me what you want to tell me, I can read in between the lines and tell where all this will end given the needless calls that you have been tormenting me with over the last couple of months. I thought I should intervene before matters get worse.
Perhaps I should let you know that, on paper I may still appear single but in reality I’m not. I have met the woman that I would love to spend the rest of my life with. In fact that morning when you rudely interrupted my rest with your call and your ridiculous promise to tell me something, I was badly expecting her call. That’s why I will never forgive you for what you did that morning.
Perhaps I should also let you know that my lady never drew me in by giving me incessant calls. She had to wait for my calls, pick them as and when they came in and even miss them sometimes. She didn’t draw me in with the kind of monotonous chit-chat that you torture my ears with but with conversations that are without words; the coy blushes when our eyes locked, the innocent touches when we shared time together and ultimately, the decision to attend a poetry recital just because I was reciting. She even invited her sisters to the recital, can you imagine? Now, honestly, if I don’t marry that girl who else can I marry?
But you, who can’t even make time to come to Nyakuron Cultural Centre to watch me do what I do best; who is going to marry you? I can’t. I swear!
Probably you should meet my lady Ang so that you understand what I am talking about. She is the prettiest lady in this world. I don’t know whether it’s the sparkle in her eyes or the charm in her turn but there is just something about that lady that makes me want to bow at the throne of her beauty. So, please never interrupt those moments when I am thinking about her with your promises “to tell me something.” The next time you do, you will pay with your life. Nonsense
From your disenchanted Brother in Christ, I even don’t know the last time I went to church; let’s hook up for NTV documentaries in Juba. Pakalast.