Who Stole Hookers Knickers?

I had never been to Arua (below). My interpretation of Arua was that its far. Very far that it would take two days to get there and when I did get there, there would be no hot water, bacon, pizza or television.

It was early 2000 when with MTN, we were there to switch Arua on to the mobile network grid. And I was right. Arua was far – probably because then, there was no ‘#steady progress’ and thus no tarmac between Karuma and Arua plus Joseph Kony was still rampaging in the area. It didn’t take two days to get there and there was hot water, very cold beers, television but no bacon and pizza. But that’s beside the point.

From the onset, when we got to MTN Towers to catch the MTN yellow bus (above), it was obvious that the trip and our ‘work’ sojourn in Arua was going to be a raucous one. Anjelica Arden (I wonder where she is now) had pulled off a first and piled the bus with lots of alcohol – and I mean lots of it. And the media crowd was something else – Andrew Wandera (RIP), Radio One presenters’ RS. Elvis and Philip Besiimire (bottom left), Kalungi Kabuye, Patrick ‘OPP’ Oyulu (bottom right), Daily Monitor’s John Nsimbe, WBS presenter, Tilly Muwonge – the list goes on and on.

One thing about Arua that got me and amazed was the rush hour traffic. You were far more likely to get knocked down by Boda Cyclist or Wheel Barrow Pusher than by My Car Driver. There were literally hundreds of Boda Cyclist peddling home after 5:00pm.

While there we took over Pacific Hotel on Congo Road. As for the hotel staff, they never quite knew what hit them and when we checked out a few days later, we left them with their heads scattered and in a trance.

Everybody in Arua wanted to be part of the MTN bandwagon. Some wanted a phone. Some wanted to snatch free drinks at Pacific hotel. Others merely wanted a T-shirt. When word spread into Congo that there was going to be a big party, Woman of The Night crossed the border to see what phallics were in the offering.

On our last night, MTN Chief Commercial Officer - Erik van Veen (below), opened up his wallet and literally bought out the entire bar, that the party began in earnest and went on till the wee hours of the morning when the goats and cows took a leisurely stroll from the kraal and down Congo Road to go and graze at the golf course.

Then it was morning proper.

After an early morning breakfast polishing off whatever beers were left over, we boarded the bus back to Kampala and minutes later, the real drama unfolded. There was Cop road block on the outskirts of town.

Amongst Cop was a young lady and from the way that she was tarted down and dishevelled, one need not have driven down Speke Road in Kampala to deduce that she was Woman of The Night.

And onto the bus they clambered. One of us had obviously done something to her that necessitated Cop intervention. And jeez, was Woman of The Night peeved off or what. Her rants would have made Stella Nyanzi’s sound palatable. She hissed fire! It transpired that her services had been used and Client hadn’t paid.

But pause a minute. That was not what was really peeving her off. What really was, is that Client also had to audacity to steal her knickers! Yes, steal as in theft. In Luganda she spattered: “I don’t mind him not paying me. That sometimes happens in the job. But to steal my knickers? How do I go home without them?”

With Cop walking behind her, she walked down the bus and stopped at the back where she pointed at him and said: “Oyo!” The dude, MTN Engineer, was literally trying to stuff himself under the seat. When Cop patted him down, tucked in his jeans, what does he find? In Cop talk, I think they call it ‘exhibit’ – a pair of tattered knickers.

And just like that, MTN Engineer was hauled off the bus. By the time we got back to Kampala, every possible story about him and knickers had been heard. That he would break into Akamwesi hostel and steal them off the line. Or if he went visiting, he would sneak into the bathroom and pluck a pair that had been left out to dry. If none had been left out to dry, he would rummage through the dirty laundry basket till he found a pair. The perv. 

By the way Sista, if you think you are missing some knickers, holler for I might just know who the culprit is.

Pictures: New Vision, Daily Monitor, MTN, Internet