Some of these doctors are poor excuses

DEAR nephew Milambo

Greetings from this confused city.

I hope that the powers of the ancestors have continued to watch over you, and that the spirit of Liwelelo has been protecting you from all the evil. I also hope that the folks in Ukumbisiganga, my beloved village, are all okay and in the mighty protection of Liwelelo and a host of ancestors.

Here in the big city all is well my dear son, and the grace of Limatunda has been watching over us, and apart from a few hiccups here and there, which are normal in life, everything is fine.

I hope that your young family is doing fine, and your beautiful wife is in great shape, and my grandson in great health, because that is what I beseech Liwelelo every time I remember you, to protect that boy so that he can grow into a strong fellow with the blood of Chief Mirambo flowing in his veins.

Your aunt is in great health, and she got over her severe flu which terrorised her for almost two weeks, but the medication she was given has worked wonders for her, and right now she is back to her normal self, running up and down as if she was still a young girl.

My dear son, I was overjoyed when you informed me that finally Samweli the Magnet has finally come to his senses and decided to get married, although I pity the woman who accepted his advances, because that boy is a walking disaster.

You see my son, they say ‘like father like son’ or better still, a ‘chip off the old block’, and that rightly describes that boy, because he is exactly like his late father (may his soul continue to rest in peace).

His father, if I might brief you, was known in the village, and indeed most villages in Urambo, for trying (and most of the time succeeding) in owning things which did not belong to him.

Old Danieli, from the early days when we were growing up until he got married and started building his own family, had a habit of stealing, and it got so terrible that he started stealing from himself!

I remember there was a time when he invited us to his place (his peers) for some serious roast goat, and we had a terrific time munching through the juicy meat, that is until an old man accompanied by several armed young men showed up.

This old man was from a neighbouring village, and the young men with him had looks which told us that they were itching to use the weapons they were carrying, and some of them looked as if they were used to having people like us for breakfast.

He went ahead and confronted Danieli, who was holding a succulent goat rib in his right hand, and accused him of stealing the goat we were swallowing.

As he was making these accusations, one of the armed men went to Danieli’s hut, and a few minutes later he emerged holding the evidence, a fresh goat skin.

The fellow tried to argue that the goat we were munching belonged to him, and to tell you the truth, things started getting out of hand, and in short, he would have lost his life that day, had it not been for the intervention of the village council.

Anyway, I am glad if his boy has decided to settle down at last, although at his young age that boy can still make a veteran thief retire in disgrace (I know he would have made his father proud!) My dear nephew, your aunt is still suffering from her malady of wishing to get a baby, and I really don’t understand what has gotten into her pretty head!

This effort of trying to get a baby got her into trouble the other day, and in the process woke up all the dormant Nyamwezi demons in me, and the Ruga ruga spirit took over for a brief moment, and I almost killed someone in cold blood. You see, someone with cassava for brains told your aunt that there is a very good doctor who deals with fertility matters; these people called gaeno something, and assured her that he might give very valuable advice.

Because this madness has made a permanent home in your aunt’s head, she convinced me to accompany her to the doctor’s office, and like a fool I went along.

The doctor who looked like a retired pickpocket eyed me with suspicion before telling me to wait outside as he ushered my wife into his dingy office partitioned with plywood.

I was feeling the urge for a puff from my pipe, but decided to wait, and as I was rifling through an old magazine, I could hear the voices coming from the doctor’s office.

I heard my wife telling the doctor of her urge to conceive, and how she has tried several methods with no success, and when she was through, I could hear the doctor asking her some questions. But my ears suddenly pricked on alert as I heard the doctor asking my wife very suspicious questions, and my ears heard the words ‘old, unstable, and impotent’ coming from the doctor’s mouth.

It is the same mouth of the doctor which uttered very seditious words to my wife, words to the effect that her husband, which in this case happens to be me, is old and not sexy enough for her.

I heard the doctor telling my wife that if she is willing, he can show her how to get a baby faster, but it did not involve me, and he further told her that he has helped a lot of women.

“My dear, you are a very beautiful woman, first I am surprised why you wish to bring into this world a baby who might resemble that old man out there, when actually there is a possibility of you getting a bouncing baby from someone with young, fresh blood, just like me” he said.

My dormant Ruga ruga blood reached boiling point, and I kicked in the flimsy door and lunged for the throat of the doctor, who ran behind his desk before dashing through the shattered door.

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