Asoumpta had pushed down her throat her first four mutzig beers in a record time. Musa tapped Gakuru and immediately pointed at Mbabazi. She had started galloping red wine as if she was competing with any member in their drinking spree. The men were shell-shocked by the unquenchable thirst and undying appetite Mbabazi and her friends had for booze. If the degree of one’s health is determined by their ability to eat, then whoever doubted their health were sick themselves. When it came to eating the gals beat a record time. Two tilapia fish spiced up with all ingredients were crashed in no time.
Gakuru replied him through an SMS.
“Le me op dei’ll not make a nuisance of demselves,” a message read.
“I trust their leader. She’s quite responsible. Cool man!” Musa replied through the same medium.
It clocked nine. Everyone was speaking at the top of their voices.
“You guys it’s getting too late how shall we enter school and you know… er… we have to …” yelled Kabatesi, seemingly the youngest in their midst. Little did she know that whenever they went out, they reported on Sunday evening.
“Never mind the time we enter school this is how we get the money we spend at the school canteen, and of course the airtime,” Asoumpta whispered to her.
It was Kabatesi’s first time to take a French leave. She frequently rubbed her hands against her laps, altering her sitting positions unconsciously and as many times as possible. She would rest her chin in her right palm with her arm seeking support from the arm of the chair. Then, she would stand and stretch and hated her sight. Her eyes were bricking very rapidly. She adamantly refused to talk in spite of a stream of nagging provocative statements directed at her by her friends.
She was apparently nervous and restless throughout the drinking binge, the first ever in her life. Feeling bilious and woozy she chose to sleep in the chair.
“Be strong, it isn’t yet time for clubbing and sit upright, please!” Asoumpta barked at her as she lifted her head away from the chair.
“Guys, this endless drinking has started getting on my nerves,” Kabatesi grumbled.
“If you could stop disturbing her, the better, let her take a nap.” said Mbabazi, her elder sister.
“She is a minor, leave her to rest,” Gakuru said pitifully and boldly.
“Man! Stop that nonsense we are all grownups here; no minors in this place,” Asoumpta retorted.
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