If you want to see ‘hungry men’, then bo to a beauty pageant, and you will know that I told you the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help me God.
In my entire life I can confess that I have never seen so many hungry men converging in a single spot like it usually happens in beauty pageants, take my word.
There was a time the country lived and breathed beauty pageants, from Miss Tanzania competition to Miss Magomeni beauty pageant, it was a feast for the hungry hyenas.
We even had one which was called the Miss University, that is why at that time I was tempted to organise a Miss Manzese Beauty Pageant, but the idea died a premature death.
It was a dangerous time my friend, because I heard some fellows in some dark, smoky alleys discussing the possibility of organising Miss Prison, before someone suggested that after that one they should organise a Miss Daladala beauty pageant, and thereafter a Miss Mama Lishe beauty pageant.
It was all fun for the boys we call the hyenas, because it was the only place they could see plenty of female flesh, legally, with all permission granted by the government.
Recently the country received a new representative as the Miss Tanzania 2023, and I have to admit that I was one of the people who attended the event.
The idea of attending this event was brought by none other than that fellow from the Lake zone, Jatello, who told me that one of the contestants is a daughter of his uncle, from his aunt’s side who lives in USA.
“Omera, this uncle of mine called me from Washington and practically begged me to represent him because he is busy helping Donald trump in his legal affairs,” he told me that day.
There was need of alerting the mother of my clan about the issue, because I knew for a fact that she would have broken my legs so that I do not leave the house.
I was also convinced to attend the event because a few minutes after Jatello told me that I should accompany him, another fellow who is usually obsessed with attending these events called me and persuaded me to join them because he had front seat tickets.
The fellow has a very long and complicated Nyakyusa name, so we simply call him Amigo. He is a very short and very thin fellow, but when you see the sort of women he prefers, you will realise that height is nothing but exaggerated inches.
I knew for sure that if I told the mother of my clan where I was heading, then she would have done anything in her power to stop me from attending the pageant, so instead I told her that I was attending a friend’s birthday party, so I was likely going to be late.
Maybe I should tell you in advance that she found out, and the person who informed her of my whereabouts was none other than that fellow called Oscar the Hawker, a chap who has taken it upon himself to make my life with mama Boyi a living misery, because he has been feeding her with plenty of information regarding my after work activities.
I have to admit that we were having some good time fellows, as the girls paraded in front of the wide eyed judges, with several hyenas, including Amigo, busy snapping pictures of the semi naked girls.
Most of these hyenas that frequent these spots are usually guys who are usually loaded, and the main reason they attend is because they are hoping to catch an unsuspecting beauty by surprise. I know, because I witnessed two of these fat hyenas trying to persuade some pretty girls that their lives will be filled with plenty of fun if they left with them.
The first time I bumped into one hungry fellow trying to get into the good books of one of the beauties, I was heading to the toilet, when I saw a very old and fat guy in a corner with one of the pretty chicks blushing in front of him.
“Sikiliza mtoto, I have a brand new Mercedes Benz outside, and plenty of real Tanzanian money in my wallet, just say the word, and we will be in Johannesburg before the day is over, because I don’t know if I told you, but I have my private jet waiting for me to decide where I want to go!” he was saying, and the girl was giggling her head off.
I would have gone on my way to the toilet, but I hesitated, because the hyena that was spewing this long tale happened to be a diehard patron of Zena’s Pub, one of my local watering holes in Manzese, and his name was Paulo!
He was the guy who sold chicken in the local market in Manzese, and as far as I knew, the only thing that he owned which can actually move is a rickety bicycle he uses to ferry his chickens!
I went to him and greeted him, but it became obvious to me that he was not ready to engage in a long conversation with me “I will give you a call baba Boyi, don’t worry, just let me finish with this lady here, okay?” He said and I left, but not before I heard him whispering to the girl in a soft voice “that guy used to be my gardener!”
When I went back, Jatello was nowhere to be seen, and Amigo was deep in conversation with a woman who happened to be the matron of one of the beauty contestants…. and she was massive!
The woman was built like a professional wrestler, and her massive arms were clear indications that she could use them to put a stop to any stubborn male species who wanted to corrupt her innocent charge.
He introduced her as Mama Chiku from Magomeni. “Isn’t she lovely baba Boyi!” Amigo whispered harshly in my ear, and I muttered something ineligible, because I knew the wrong answer might put me in her wrong books.
The fun we were having was disrupted a few hours later when there was a commotion from outside, which was followed by a loud bang and someone screaming in obvious pain.
I knew it must be something serious because the bouncers who resemble exhibition bulls were scrambling for cover.
Before we could ask what was going on, we heard a shrill voice of a woman over the loud music, and my blood suddenly became cold!
She was swinging a very familiar frying pan over her shoulders, and I watched in horror after one bouncer after another fell unconscious after the frying pan landed.
“Najua yuko ndani! He must tell me why he wants to feast his eyes on these skinny creatures while I am at home, kwani what do they have that I don’t? come out if you are a man!” she screamed as she landed the frying pan on the head of another unfortunate bouncer, who collapsed like a sack of potatoes.
Jatello was the first one to dash through the back door, and I was closely following him as we made our way into the cold night, as I heard Mama Chiku shouting to Amigo, “Kwani bebi ndio unaondoka!” Amigo didn’t answer, because he was determined to protect his head from the accurate strike of the frying pan, which is famous in my neighbourhood!
