Some of the boys in uniform need caning

Dear aunt Sophia

Greetings from Dar es Salaam, the land where people stare on their phones the whole day like zombies.

I hope that by the grace of Limatunda you and your family are doing okay, and all the people of my beloved Ukumbisiganga.

I hope that your Christmas celebrations went well without a hitch and hopefully you had fun in the process.

Here in the big city things are not bad, we thank Liwelelo and the ancestors led by Chief Mirambo for blessing us with rains, because the dry spell was driving us insane.

We thank Limatunda also for blessing us with great Christmas celebrations here in the city, although some few fellows wanted to spoil it for us.

You see, my wife decided that instead of staying at home the whole day, we should at least go out and refresh at the beach.

I usually like going to the beach in normal circumstances, because at my age I find the cool breeze and the sound of waves relaxing.

With the warm sand and gentle waves, the beach for me has a soothing ambiance that nothing can beat. There’s simply no better place to let go of daily stress than on the beach, because I can sit back and soak up the sun and watch the waves roll the whole day.

My dear aunt, there is nothing more relaxing than listening to the sound of the waves while lounging under the shade or basking in the sun.

There is a friend of mine who happens to be a doctor somewhere who convinced me that actually going to the beach has health benefits, that is why ever since I came from Ukumbisiganga, I go to the beach at every opportunity that I get.

This doctor fellow told me that while you may think it’s your imagination, there are actually studies done that prove that the benefits of going to the beach include heightened rejuvenation as your brain’s wave patterns find a truly calming state.

He told me that when you play in the waves, your body is forced to send more blood to your heart as you float, and he assured me that this increased blood flow maximises your alertness, making the waves one of the best reasons to go to the beach.

My wife disagrees, but for me one of the best benefits of the beach is how exhausted I feel after spending the whole day at the beach. That exhaustion, while not always welcome, means that I usually get a better night’s sleep when it is time to lay down.

The doctor friend of mine told me that the reason is because the fresh air, which wafts by your body at the beach, is filled with negative ions (that is what he said) that positively affect your body’s ability to take in as much oxygen as possible.

Anyway my dear aunt, I don’t intend to put you to sleep while I bore you stiff with my beach stories, I just want you to know this so that the next time you come over, you should spend more time at the beach, something which cannot be found in my beloved Ukumbisiganga.

Although as I told you I love the beach, but that day I was against the idea because normally during holidays the beaches are usually very packed, especially during Christmas.

But you know how my wife can be stubborn most of the time, because when she decides something, it takes great effort to convince her otherwise.

She assured me that the beach she had selected will not be crowded like the rest, so she bundled us in the car and we headed to the place.

When she was about to park the car, there is a fellow who came out of nowhere and almost rammed our car as he tried to beat us to an empty parking space.

It was the quick reaction of my wife which saved us from calamity that day, and the Rugaruga blood in my veins reached boiling point at a record time as I shot out of the car and went to confront the lunatic.

The vehicle of the fellow was tinted every corner, so it was difficult for me to determine who the driver was. I banged on his side window and shouted at him to get out.

My dear aunt, first and foremost I was not aware that the place is owned by the military, and when the fellow decided to step out of the car, the first thing I noticed was the army uniform he was wearing, and when the back window was pressed down, I saw three other figures in the back seat, and they were all wearing military uniforms.

Sometimes I wonder whether those boys in the military have elders in their villages, because before my wife and Milambo could get out of the car, I was surrounded by four military uniforms.

One of the fellows who was built like a prize bull from Ukumbisiganga ordered me to kneel down while another one commanded me to squat.

“Mzee unajifanya jeuri sio? We will show you how to respect people,” another one said and ordered me to hop like a frog, what they famously call ‘kichurachura’.

My dear aunt, I am not the great grandson of Chief Mirambo for nothing, and those fellows in uniform realised that there was no way I was going to obey their commands, and I told them right in their faces.

My wife and Milambo came over and started apologising to the uniforms on my behalf, but I told them to stop the nonsense because after all they were the ones who were supposed to apologise to us.

As I continued to admonish the young fellows for being born without manners and respect to their elders, a fellow who was obviously their superior appeared, and suddenly the four rascals in uniform stiffened to attention.

He asked them what was happening, and before they could respond, I told him how the young fellow nearly rammed our car and instead of apologising to us decided to treat me like a petty criminal.

My dear aunt, military rank is a good thing, because before we left, those four boys had done the kichurachura thing back and forth four times.