I WORLD: THE MONEY PARTY

We did several things as kids to spawn some income. We were so good; You would call us ‘trickidstars’! One day, at 3 years old, I sat at the back of the house and started crying. I was good at crying that anytime I wanted to, tears would never betray me. I needed not a reason to cry. Everything around me was a reason anyway. The scorching sunshine, the hunger, the loneliness - as friends were not yet back from school while others were forced to take naps in the afternoons among others. Amidst my cry, my friend’s father next door came across me and handed me a 50 sh note and crying was history.

We were a gang of three. I was the leader though the oldest was 6 years. We ran errands like delivering love letters between house boys and house maids in the area for the standard pay of 50 sh per delivery. It was too bad we couldn’t understand the content at the moment even if it must obviously have been written in Runyankole. We also did the purchasing of items from the nearby shops. For the lazy ones – we were always there.

The first project however was by my brother and I. Mum and Dad always closed their bedroom door before they left for work. But on this auspicious day, the door was left open. My brother always knew whatever was going on in the house. He called himself Inspector Derrick. And if you did not refer to him as such, you did not have to expect a response from him.

He informed me about how the door was left open and about the money that was in the side drawers of the bed. We discussed the issue shortly and agreed to call for a money party immediately. All the kids in the neighborhood were invited. My brother and I distributed the money to every kid that cared to be rich. We sung about how we had become millionaires in just a day. At least every kid had not less than 100 sh. It started to make sense that indeed there was a God in heaven. Sunday school wasn’t in vain after all.

Some of the boys planned on buying cars and aeroplanes, while others guns. For the gals all we cared about were sweets and dolls. Later that afternoon, a mother to three of the kids came up to the bedroom. She was sure her kids had to be around because of all the tiny slippers that were left at the entrance to the house. She walked silently upstairs and slammed open the door to the master bedroom. Obviously she had followed the noises of kids jubilating about something she had no idea about. As soon as we saw her, it was clear that sometimes you work so hard for something but never get to enjoy it! Its fate!

She collected and took away all our money. She put it back in the drawers and chased us out of the room. We kind of thought that was the end of it. We all left the house bitter and frustrated. Grumbling as we slopped down the stairs. Some of the kids stumped their feet while others hit the wall with their knuckles expressing the same feeling of derailment.

Little did we know she had passed over the ‘gossip’ about the robbery to Dad. He came back home earlier than usual –that was a very bad sign. ‘Couldn’t this have waited till after work.’ I had wished. He was obviously very angry. He beat the hell out of my brother and I. He did, not with a cane but a belt and a piece of broken electrical wire!

Even while I was being beaten and amidst all the wailing, I thought to my self, ''what is this guy thinking! How can he beat two little kids with a belt and electric wire?’ I believed those were only supposed to be used on thieves and prisoners, but alas, I was wrong. Or maybe I was right!

However I was too ashamed that I wondered how I was going to face my buddies the next day! But thanks to the punishment, we weren’t to go beyond the entrance to the house!