Coronavirus Reminds Me of How I Survived As A Toyboy.
When I was still living in Zambia in 1965, I was one of the very few dons in Lusaka (for those who lived in Kabulonga you know the family that had 9 boys and 2 girls, that’s the current Marie Stopes) by association.
One day I sold my wealth and joined drags, to be specific it was molundo from Uganda🤣🤣🤣, but when everything hit the bottom, life became a monopoly gamble game until the day lust led me into the arms of a fine-face-aged lady in her 60s called Ngosa. She lived 10mins walk-away on Kudu road.
When poverty strikes, beauty ceases to matter as long as your partner has money to sustain you through the tough times but be ready for the consequences.
Ngosa demanded ‘engine servicing’ almost on a daily that the few times the ‘car’ wasn’t in the garage was when I pretended to be sick (remember she had hit her menopause so no cramps to stop her). Every time we were in the ‘wogolowogolo’ business, she remained me how she was taking care of me.
Readers, I had to perform just to have a roof on my head until one day when I pulled off a ‘Semei Kakungulu walk’ to Tanzania, to escape the ‘continuous body fluids’ loss during sessions.
I will one day tell you how I ended up in Uganda but for now, I feel sorry for those feeding off partners in this COVID19 lockdown.
Let’s pray for their souls.