MUSINGS : Getting conned at weddings

I say it is not fair because it is a complete waste of resources and exploitation.

I mean how long does a typical Bongo wedding party last? Do we really get the value for our money?

At most a wedding lasts for around eight hours but the expenses for these ceremonies to say the least are heading way out of proportions

So I felt cheated the other day when I went to a wedding.

As you all know to be invited to a wedding these days you must have donated something.

According to the recent wedding donation cards that have reached me, some have cut off price tags, it is no longer up to your wish.

Maybe due to this run-away inflation situation we are currently living in.

Donations usually depend on the social status of either the couple that are getting married or their families.

On this occasion the lowest donation was set at Sh100,000 for a single’s invitation.

The party was to begin at 7.00 pm according to the timetable printed on the invitation card. But I knew this was Bongo where ‘keeping time is wasting time.’

I had Mama watoto at my side when we are arrived at the hall all dressed for the big show.

I was impressed at the entrance after checking our invitation card we were welcomed with a bowl of soup.

“That is just to prepare you for things to come,” the waiter serving us commented cheerfully.

“See!” I whispered to Mama Watoto. “I told you this thing was going to be great.”

“Why are you drawing conclusions so soon, we have only just arrived,” she replied with caution.

The décor in the hall was breathtaking with silky laces and ribbons all around as soft soothing music filled the air.

It was packed; we managed to get seats at a table in the corner not far from the ‘special guests’ tables.’

At the table sat a certain old folk with a shinny bald head that looked like the back of a clay cooking pot.

The wrinkles on his face told a story of its own, I guess it was more from booze than age.

Next to him sat a plump woman whose hair was braided, she kept on leaning on the ‘old’ man’s shoulder.

Drinks soon started flowing, the first and second round we got our preferences. Then we went for the food which honestly was one of the best I had ever has at a wedding.

The master of ceremony (MC) led the proceedings; flashing entertaining jokes that left guest holding to their ribs.

When we went back to our table I called the waitress who informed me that only Konyagi was available.

“But how?” I queried in fury, as the waitress simply shrugged her shoulders for luck of a sensible answer.

The ‘old man’ had a surprise in store as he said calmly “ Basi, leta huo mzinga.”

I turned to have a good look at the man ordering such strong liquor at that point in time.

“Au vipi?” he said to me. I just shook my head in despair. I looked at the woman who just kept silent.

“This is Bongo,” I reflected “Instead of fighting for our right after donating such huge sums of money. Here, we were willing to knock ourselves out.”

And that is exactly what happened to the old man after he drained the whole bottle. I had this unceremonious duty to carry him out of the hall.

Then the two of them got on to a boda boda.

The thin old man was sandwiched between the driver and his plump partner.

The woman’s thighs exposed, hands stretched embracing the boda boda driver caging the old man to protect him from falling off.