The He Goat

The Royal Ascot Goat Races took place a few weeks ago at Speke Resort, Munyonyo and taking centre stage were the goats or was it the free food and drink in one of the hospitality tents? Talking of hospitality tents, Brian Muwonge’s Warid, Elvis Wava’s Silk Events and Steven Kavuma’s Club Silk kicked!

But getting back, some people say that goats are perhaps the daftest creatures ever to walk the planet. That train of thought may hold true because at the races, He Goat 9, upon which its owners had lavished quit a sum of money was in its own element.

He Goat 9 was on fire. At the start of his race, he found himself surrounded by a bevy of female goats that not only did his libido kick in, he lost concentration and literally started sniffing and trying to lick at the genitalia of Female Goat’s. Eek! I think the Minister of Agriculture should pass some law condemning such an act. He Goat 9 sniffed hard with his nose pressed right up on the susu area of Female Goat - not in private, but in public and with a number of children looking on! If we humans dared do such a thing, the morality police right down from Pastor Martin Sempa to the Minister of Ethics to Church of Uganda would be up in arms making noise. But truth be told, I hear some humans, whilst in the confines of their bedrooms do sniff on each other’s genitalia. Hmm!

Once the race got underway, so did He Goat 9. He was totally focused on his attempts to mount Female Goat. At one point on the second lap, he almost succeeded but she thwarted him when she kicked out at him. But he wasn’t about to give up. He kept at it that with all the nudging he was doing on her genital area, she and in a bid to get away from him run that much faster and just when he at last thought he was about to ‘mount her’ (it sounds so gross), he inadvertently nudged her over the finish line that she won the race.

He Goat 9 owners naturally went livid. “It’s off with your head tonight” they taunted him as he led off the race track. Later that night there was a barbecue going in one of the tents and on the spit was a whole goat. I wonder if that was He Goat 9.

There are some people who are not predictable and have a ‘goat like mentality’. They don’t give a hoot that you could be in your own time and doing your own thing and don’t want to be disturbed. They figure that just because you are a public figure it is their right to have access to you at all times.

I used to go to Cineplex but for the past three years, I have not been there simply because of the ‘harassment’ I endure. Some fans are thoughtful enough that they wait till you are alone and then approach you. But there was one – who sat behind me in the cinema hall and who did the unthinkable.

We were half way through the James Bond movie – Quantum of Solace when I got a tap on my shoulder. Looking back there was this chap leaning forward and the conversation that followed went along these lines.

Chap: “Are you Bakumunne?”

TB: “You mean Bukumunhe. My name does not have the letter ‘a’ in it.”

Chap: “Wati (I think he meant in ‘what’ in English) it is nice to meet you.”

TB: “Thank you, but I am trying to watch a movie.”

Five minutes later, there is another tap and Chap this time, wants to introduce me to his girlfriend. The conversation resumed along these lines.

Chap: “TB, I was telling my girlfriend who you are. But you know some people don’t read newspapers. Girlfriend, greet Bakumunhe.”

TB: “Its Bukumunhe and not Bakumunhe!”

Girlfriend: “Nice to meet you Bakumunhe.”

Chap: “It’s her birthday next week. Can you recommend a place where I can take her out to eat?”

I ignore him. When I get back into the movie, I find I have lost the best part of fifteen minutes including the scene where the actress Halle Berry strips down. It really irked me for I had to find a hawker who sold me the movie on DVD and when I got home and settled down to watch it, it started to skip minutes into the movie.
Before OPP (for those who don’t know him, he is a pastor Okudi lookalike) upped and left Uganda for the States we met up in just Kicking for a drink before going off to the Sheraton Hotel for a function.

Whilst in Just Kicking and deeply engrossed in conversation, the barman slides over two TMLs (and once again for the benefit of the people who keep asking me what I mean by TML, it is, short for Tusker Malt Larger). Looking up, OPP tells Barman that we didn’t place an order. Barman nods his head and says they are from the man standing on the other side of the bar.

I see him and he has all the features of being somebody attached to the Presidential Guard Brigade (PGB). By the way, if you work for PBG and you think you are inconspicuous and blend in with the populous, you are so mistaken. PGB operatives stick out like a sore thumb and if you want to see them in their masses, go to bars on Main Street in Jinja when they have been given a weekend break from their training at Kimaka.

PGB Operative comes over and just like chap from Cineplex, he is overwhelmed. Okay yes, it did feel sweet for he went on and on as he praised me. At one point I lost track of how many times he shook my hand.

The crowning moment came when he called his father – a cattle herder somewhere off the road to Ntungamo and we demanded we at least say hello to him. I am sure his father had never heard of me or OPP and my attempts to say hello did not get very far because he was blaring down the phone in Runayankole.

PGB Operative had something else up his sleeve. He had shelved whatever plans he had for that evening to hang out with us.

Seeing that we had a prior engagement at The Sheraton, we told him that it would be impossible. But he was adamant. All he had to do was to go back to his barracks at State House Nakasero, pick up some cash and then meet us at a location of our choosing. Before we parted he made sure he rang his number into our phones.

I don’t know how he knew which function it was at the Sheraton that we were attending for during the speeches, OPP nudged me and pointed him out. He was hovering near the bar. Worse still was then he saw us, he spewed out some words of excitement in Runanyankole – enough to have the guests looking round.
While he wasn’t really bothering us – I think he was more of a gentle nuisance, we did at some stage manage to give him the slip and flee. While we contemplated going back to Just Kicking, we passed on it and went to Bubbles – just in case he had made his way back to Just Kicking.

With two drinks from Bubbles in us, we went on to Iguana and no sooner had OPP paid for the first round than the now all too familiar voice rang out across the bar.
PGB Operative was there and this time he had two of his colleagues in tow who, also placed phone calls to their parents in Lyantonde and Rushere so that we could say hello to them. And with the amount of handshaking that went on, by the time I got home, I was nursing a bruised hand whilst trying figure out if PGB Operative was for real when he said his father had given me a bull.