Friday, September 26, 2014

Help, I'm feeling sooo paid!


WERE WA'SHITSESWA has been observing what happens to people after they get paid at the end of the month. Here, have a look at his "exclusive" investigation.


You don’t wanna be broke at this time. Nuh. This is high time. Big time. Holy time. It is time to visit every floor of the supermarket and still smile at the cashiers. It is time to watch news with legs on the table. It is a time to eat good and tell the body “sorry”. It is end-month.

End-month is a time to sleep with change. It doesn’t matter how long it has taken to collect it, nor how hard the journey has been. It doesn't matter how long the change lasts. You sleep with change and that's what goes to the bank. You have change in the pocket; change in the wallet; change in the bedroom; and your table never lacks a note or two. Your biggest problem now is how to spend.

You see, folks be like: Life is hard. Life is hard? End-month is time to fear going to paradise: there’s a better one on earth. Life is hard? Time you wake up and see this angel waiting by the bedside, then spend the day with the smile of that angel, in the fragrance of roses, and brightness of the day, and the cool of the wind, and the warmth of what they call beauty. And you can decide to have angels. Just pressing a button. Tap: Entre Angel. Tap: Exeunt Devil. Tap: Happiness in the backstage. Tap: Honey and milk. Tap. Tap. What money can do . . .?!

End-month is time to call Steve and wonder why he is still in the village. Today you are asking Steve why the president sank the ship with two-point-something billion stuff. Billion? You want Steve to tell you if Lesotho is bigger than Africa. Today, you are a stable member of Tetemesha. When Steve hangs up from the other end, you curse and complain why the nerd doesn’t wanna talk these days. 

You dial Mesh and Sam and Don and Tash. You even call the plot gateman to wish him a good night.
Now, if the landlady wants to come, let her. A very mean badger. Sadist too. But it’s time to make peace and smile. Even Dorcas the grocer is gonna be paid. It’s time to smile to the taut at the bus station. It’s time to visit the tailor for newer designs. 

You nurse a young beard and a moustache, each has a barber and it’s time to engage them. Still there is change to sleep with at the end of the day. 
 
There is only one end month in a month. No month has an end-month in its middle. You walk on the streets wearing that YOLO look. And you discover for the first time that streets can as well have only happy faces. 

It’s only the guy selling rubber stamps that doesn’t smile; but how do you when you spend your entire year counterfeiting stamps and seals? Spill-over benefits see the kid on the street happy too. Everyone on Facebook is posting pics of happiness. I swear it is happiness.

End-month is what comes at the end of every month. A month is a working period. After work, it’s time to go roving. At end-month, Madam doesn’t need to whine for holiday. Holiday comes to Madam. Nakuru for flamingos, Mombasa for the beaches, Masaku for bitches (hey! I mean), choose any destination and go relax. Kampala, ooh Kampala! I will come back, dear nice, sweet, lovely Kampala.

Merry.

But as you make merry, remember there is mid-month, and there is a last quarter of the month. There are kids to go to school. There are in-laws with reproductive hospital bills and there are cousins to be arrested. Be moderate.


Happy end-month.

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