Chapter One: Seeing is Believing
His friends kept on nodding their heads in disbelief and doubting their sights every other time he barked at a seller for something. He never minded about the prices nor would he entertain a second thought. He would just pay. “Just put in the boot,” he bellowed at the town boys that would hang around in anticipation of money. Indeed, a showoff and spendthrift he was!
Kanye never went to school. Nobody among his friends and relatives exactly knew how he amassed wealth. Besides being his blood brother Kanye was Fideli’s best man and would be upset by the poverty he lived in.
“You man, will you spend all your life in this kind of poverty?” asked Kanye.
“I have lived in Kirengere all my life; do you expect me to get rich when everybody around me is a pauper?” Fideli said, attracting a long and loud laughter from Kanye.
“Really, really …for goodness sake, tell me who stopped you from leaving this poor village,” said Kanye.
“But, get me right brother. I’ve never been to Kigali nor do I know anybody there; so how do I settle in the first place; and with a family of six how will I make a living in the second place?” Fideli asked.
“Believe me you will live a better life; even be able to drink beers every evening like most young men of your age do; icyigage will be no more,” he assured him.
“It is hard for me to believe what I have not seen,”
“Yeah… even the most foolish member of this village knows that seeing is believing and I too know it. But …umm… those who believe without seeing are the blessed few”.
After two weeks, Fideli’s family moved to Kigali. Fideli earned a living from selling MTN airtime. Seldom, his wife hawked fresh fruits like avocado, apples, oranges and mangoes in a basket. She would be engaged in running battles with the Police and goons that pretended to be city council authorities.
“It is better to fight with the police than to fight with the impostors; who could be any person on the street as unlike the police they don’t wear a uniform,” Kibonge, a hawker friend one time told Fifi as they sloped down Muhima street on their way to Nyabugogo Taxi Park after the police tried to seize them at the Commercial Street in vain.
“Certainly, you can’t compare. I get disgusted by the way you mince your words. Me, I see the goons as ghosts that choose to appear if they so wish and disappear at will,” Fifi whimpered in anger.
“Ghosts! …umm…are they invisible?
“Yeah….they are ghosts since anybody can be a goon”
This time, Fifi had abandoned her basketful of avocados on spotting the Police within an arm’s distance, to be specific a social distance of one metre. The authorities blamed any filth in the city on the poor fruits hawkers that supported large families with the money they got from the villainous trade.
TO BE CONTINUED…
Please act now to save lives threatened by ignorance
The author requests stakeholders in education and fields of advocacy for children’s and women’s rights to generously contribute towards the publication of this resourceful fictional novel, titled “Sugar Coated Dad”.
The author tactfully and richly employs story-telling skills to tap into the modern society to show the alarming levels of permissiveness and immorality among school children as the number of horny elderly men called sugar daddies that lure them into early sex grows annually.
The story of the three school girls and three elderly rich men – the main characters – of the novel explicitly explores the real trends of moral decadence mostly among adolescent schoolgirls and sugar daddies. The novel, thus, provides lessons to girls that have not yet fallen prey to sugar daddies as well as creating mass awareness on the sex relationships between adolescent girls and adult men as a violation of children’s rights.
For more information call (+250)785022003 or write to: firstname.lastname@example.org