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Tuesday, April 1, 2008

Kikumi-kikumi waitresses, the in-thing

Last week, the story was on a bunch of campusers who returned with stomach upsets that turned into diarrhea following meals from the cheap food kiosk near Makerere. Even when they fancied the chubby waitress with an open smile, they vowed never to set foot near kikumi-kikumi again.

But never trust a campuser to keep his word. It was not a week yet when the guys flocked back in huge numbers. The hottest chit-chat is how these gents have found kikumi-kikumi waitresses the sexiest ever that God created! Blame it on the new quiet campus and its romantic serenity but the boys of Makerere are doing more than what Adam and Eve did on that eventless Sunday evening in the moony garden of Eden.

While their brothers and sisters are luxuriating either in leather sofas inside the gates of multi-million mansions owned their tycoon parents, or as peasant sons and daughters grow muwogo in yonder upcountry homes during holidays, these campus remnants are mastering the politics of seduction in a rather practical way.

Accordingly, they flock to the inferior restaurants under the guise of lunching. Then they utilize the opportunity to seduce the easygoing waitresses for later raunchy escapades. As it is, these joint wannabes love hanging out with campusers and Nkrumah has become the harbour in which lust is quenched.

You can argue that it's because campus babes are expensive and too mean to bench since it means taking her to I Feel Like Chicken Tonight in Wandegeya. They are also few and not interested in containing the brimming lusts of these Ivory Tower hunks which explains why the give-no-damn chaps have turned to kikumi-kikumi, the shopping mall for babes.

Consequently, lunch hour has become one in which you spot campus chaps cheekily whispering in the ears of giggling waitresses. It's a normal spectacle to spot a campuser chatting chummily with a kikumi-kikumi babe or stealthily pinching the girl's bottoms in suggestive ways. I've seen many look left and right to see whether anyone is looking before making the maids chuckle. No one is complaining; these women are enjoying such magnitude attention.

They now neglect their work as you hear the chief waiter shouting at the top of his voice, calling out to these females to come and serve clients: "Madina, Magdalena…banange mujje musavinge abantu!"

This is when such cooks and waitresses in dirty bikinis and ever-sneezing noses realize that they should be serving people instead of dilly-dallying with campus boys. But at the end of this get-to-know-you mode, the sharp guys strike secret codes with their lovers cum lust-mates with whom they take their affairs to their rooms to engage in spontaneous sexual bouts before finally booting, chucking or kicking [in campus-speak] the poor women.

Few escapades linger on until they too crumble like a pack of cards. It's the devil out to conquer the world!

--The Daily Monitor, Saturday, August 7, 2004, page 12