As seconds were graduating to minutes, the cool breeze from Nankuni mountain reminded us that we were sitting under a tree and not a house. As Kezziah continued caressing my body like a physiotherapist, I remembered that we were there for just a few minutes to help each other with the lines of the script of the play to be performed the following week. The most awaited drama, “The President`s prerogative”.
Citing the last word of the last line on the script, I realised that I had to escort her, although I wasn’t sure if I could provide enough security amidst the blood sucking rumours in our society. Anyway, I am a man. On our way we discussed how childish we had been and the political affairs among other interesting topics.
On my way back with my fingers on my TECNO Pivour 3, my cell phone, I noticed that Sarah sent me a text to have a simple discussion. Respecting the humble call, I thought of paying a surprise visit which revealed why I was as worthless as a scratch card before her. She was boarding the latest Range Rover owned by a fat bellied Makuta, a civil servant working at the Boma. They didn’t seem to care about onlookers.
Let it go, this might compromise my script memorisation, I thought. Feet on the road, my brain sent impulses to all organs. As I was memorising lines on the script, it was my time to compare the play with what was happening in our country. Poor political ideologies which lead young and innovative youths astray. Imagine a university graduate working as a guard due to unemployment yet our president Professor Mutopa is busy appointing agriculture graduates to work as the minister of health.
I was even tempted to think of innovative youth who are just languishing since they cannot afford to obtain a loan due to lack of collateral. That aside, Michele who was playing the role of first lady is blessed indeed and she deserved the part. It is in this regard that the director has been in such contact with her. Her curved body which revealed the treasure which God hid in her witnessed the need for her to be proud, my inner thought alluded.
The hall filled with optimistic audience, my lips become so arrogant to be trained on how to convince the audience. With the help and cover of my partner, yes Kezzia who played the role of my wife, the audience enjoyed my scenes. The support we gave each other as a couple in the play made Kezzia look for a simple conversation with me. In her v-collared blouse which preached the contents of her chest.
The said conversation started with a gentle hug and appreciative statements which left our hands in one another’s garment. Yes it happened, although I was satisfied that I had made it in life, sleeping with a model; I was filled with a guilty conscience looking for more than a conversation from someone who just wanted to appreciate my support in the play.
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