|
`Until cellphone tears us apart`...
2007-09-23 10:20:38
By Anthony Muchoki
I will never forget the good old days of land lines before the madness of cellphone caught up with everyone. If you lived in a place called Kibosho, you had to travel all the way to Arusha or Moshi to make all that important call.
Or else you could post a letter, which sometimes took ages to reach its destination or got lost along the way. And placing the call, sometimes the sleepy landline telephone operator would keep you waiting for a couple of hours.
It was so bad because there was no way you would leave the room with the handset - even to answer an urgent call of nature, no matter how pressing.
That was because, if the vital call went through and the phone rung and you were not around, that would be the end of the story.
The woman from the phone company would not be bothered anymore. Then came the age of mobile phones and everything changed such that even TTCL has gone mobile.
From then some naughty big boys and girls could even be heard communicating using the vital gadget while inside the small room…..
Today, a masaai herder’s man deep in the plains has a mobile phone. You can hear him calling his wife and saying: ``The woman I paid 70 cows to buy, have you finished building that house? If you don’t, I might change my mind and marry another woman so that such jobs are finished on time.``
The tool has become very vital for married couples to monitor each others` activities.
According to Mama Tumaini, the men of clothes should change the marriage vows to read ‘until the cellphone does us part’ instead of the normal words ‘until death does us part.’
This is because more and more marriages/ relationships are being brought down by the vital tool…. We could call it the gadget that came to save man and woman from telling the truth Sample this: ``Boss I am very sorry.
I am still in Kibosho. The lorry broke down and the mechanic is working on it. As soon as it’s repaired I will drive nonstop to Dar es Salaam.``
The man making the statement is in Dar having the fun of his life with the daughter of his boss. They are inside a hotel room playing the original Adam and Eve.
This other fat man at a pub in a Sinza is talking on his phone, while holding the waist of other equally plump lass, who definitely is not the bone of his bones.
``Sweetheart…., my one and only one woman… I am crossing Sirare Boarder on way to Mwanza. It’s very cold here. I wish you had agreed to come with me. You know I am already missing you big….`` Remember he is on phone.
I can’t hear the reply from the woman being called. But though I am neither too intelligent nor too foolish or a total goat, I can tell this Bonge la Mtu is cheating.
Where we are - Sinza Kwa Remy in Dar - is not Sirare. And we are all washing our throats with the blessed waters of Serengeti, we are not inside a bus bound for the Rock City.
The fat man is told something by his dear wife on phone and he kisses the woman he is holding. Then suddenly hell breaks loose! A woman, a skinny beauty emerges from a nearby corner.
All eyes are on her because she is wearing a skirt that calls for attention. One which you can see all the precious `calves` and….. Only, the fat man and his woman have not seen her. The lady, talking on her handset says: ``Yes my love - I know you are missing me.`` Now she is just at the backside of our fat couple. She says ``Hallo Silale.
Turn back and prepare for your death…`` when the man turns back followed by the woman, they are frightened to death. “Hallo Sirare`` the woman repeats herself holding a kitchen knife.
``Who do I start with I want to send your fat meats to the devil,`` she says.
Anthony Muchoki is a Supplements Editor, The Guardian Amuchoki@gmail.com
|
