Embeman


Wanaokudharau siku moja watakusalimia kwa heshima [a famous East African hymn]. Since we are living in unprecedented times, Anticovid devotees are no longer interested in handshakes. I think that is just another way of saying, 'Achari is disgusting!' Apenjiii, unadharau maembe imeomoka? 

You know Achari is the Vera Sidika among mangoes. There's this transition a mango goes through before it becomes Achari --- troublesome! I know it's not  comparable to the pressure that the most hardest stone in the world goes through in order to become diamonds. Interestingly, when you are looking for something to eat, all you want --- at that exact moment --- is something to eat. Fisi kala Achari. Wapenda dhahabu mtakula nini? 

A story is told about an entrepreneurial father from Dodoland. His only son was such a schmuck. Apparently nothing makes a silly billy smarter than being a grandson. 

"The only real substitute for wisdom is silence," his grandpa continually reminded him. "If you want to be thought wise, then keep your mouth shut." 

There's an exception. Drunkards can substitute wisdom for idiot-proof pickup lines. I am sure that is not different from a Pussypreneur substituting Achari for a squishy banana; they are such picky eaters. You never really know the value of staying sober until you ask Caroline Mutoko, 'Kamba ladies, hii utamu yote mnatoanga wapi?' 

Nevertheless, it's much easier for Pascal Tokodi to be president than convince an Acharipreneur to comment on their Pussypreneurial partners. Commenting is bad for business. Acharipreneurs have perfected the art of minding their own business. That's how the father from Dodoland earned his networking name --- Embeman! 

All of his networks new him as Embeman. The fellow could spot a depressed mango from a distance. He didn't stop there; he saw who they could become. Embeman led those mangoes from depression to Achari. He gave them a new identity, but failed to do the same for his stupid son. 

There's this particular Thursday Embeman took his son to the marketplace. Everything went well, until circumstances forced him to take a leak. Before excusing himself, Embeman sternly warned his son not to say a word. 

Big opportunities have a tendency to appearing when the prepared party is absent. Just look at Arsenal Football Club. They won the FA Cup while Manchester United players were washing their hands; twenty seconds caused United fans to be labelled losers. Those folks encouraging us to wash hands for twenty seconds are all Arsenal fans --- I swear! And one of them just appeared to talk to Embeman's son. 

"How much?" She asked, "I want to purchase the whole inventory." 

The boy kept quiet. He didn't say a word. 

"Jambo!" She tried to be polite, "How much? Nataka mali yote." 

The young fellow still did not say a word. 

"Are you kind of foolish?" 

No answer. The boy just stared at the tourist, his eyes fixated on her Visit Rwanda --- Arsenal FC --- face mask. Those eyes told a story. Soccer fans could easily conclude that Embeman's son resembled a Barcelona resident that had just met an individual wearing FC Bayern Munich jersey. A perfect recipe for Bella Ciao fantasies. 

"Wow!" The tourist added, "Your foolishness is really a pain in the heart."

Embeman returned from taking a leak and found his son standing alone. The little boy's body language was similar to that of a hustler from Jua Kali who perpetually chose campaigning over handshake. 

"Son!" Embeman held his shoulders, "Did you make a sale?" 

"Papa, I didn't say a word, but they found out I was a fool anyway." 

There comes a time to open your lips. Being silent doesn't mean you'll never be thought as a fool. Do you remember Eve? She talked back to the snake, and now we are all in trouble.

Wakurugenzi, when the serpent talks, never talk back. Reke Nemwo! 





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