We were at the kibaala as usual over the weekend and the banter was about the usual -wenches:
Now folks, wenches is a subject matter from which you will never fail to get a topic. And the more interesting bit is that one topic will easily morph into the next and at night's end, you will have discussed 1,000 topics on the same subject matter and yet feel nothing really was exhaustive.
So on this one night, the kibaala geezers were perched on their stools and empty crates and throwing salvo at Chelsea fans. "Gwe, soon your team will have a manager for every match," shouted one to another in the corner and the ping-pong started.
It is always laced with sexual innuendo, raw humour and at times sheer outraged outbursts. But that is what makes these geezers a special bunch of friends - some are enemies, but that's a story for another day.
Then as fate would have it, some two babes, in tight jeans and good bodies chanced by. In the ensuing silence, you could hear a half a pin drop! And when they were out of earshot, one of the naughty guys retorted, wondering aloud how these women manage to wear these tight-fitting jeans.
"She must go through ten minutes of jumping up and down to have this condom of jeans up her waist," he said.
Jamie, the loud dude whose analysis of wench issues demands silence, shot in: "Ah, that's not my worry; I worry more of how to remove it."
And the stage was set for banter about what you would allow your wife or better half to wear, where. Now I don't know whether women grapple with dictating what their men should wear and how decent it is, but for sure, geezers have issue with what some wenches wear.
The traditionalists were in uproar. Some were swearing they would behead a wife who showed up to greet an in-law in such hip-grabbing garb. Never mind they were joked down by stuff like, 'Now you, why are you fuming, unless your wife bought artificial hips."
The liberal ones were taking nothing of the nonsense of the traditionalists, arguing that as long as a woman was confident and comfortable and had the right stuff to flaunt, she was at liberty to wear anything anywhere. The moderates had their job clearly cut out for them.
They swung both ways, moderating and chipping off extreme cases on either side and within the hour, the subject had changed to something more sombre; a guy known to most as having just lost his son to the debilitating leukaemia. The talk now was about how such trying family tragedies can be an acid to keeping a shaky marital relationship.
It was generally agreed that, this was not an enviable position, not even one you can wish for your enemy. And there can not be a complete night before politics is discussed. And last week was pregnant with emotive political issues from the bombings in Gaza, to the M23 and their escapades in the DRC, President Kabila's visit to 'big daddy' and then the Muntu-Mafabi-Ekanya election. On the latter, no one accused Ekanya of being a formidable force.
On Muntu and Mafabi, it was a narrow margin on either side. But of course the guys of 'One Uganda , one Muntu' were in bullish spirits. And yes, both sides agreed that Muntu has a drop-dead gorgeous wife!
And when the past-midnight thunder struck and the rains started to pour, one by one we retired with the hope of not ending up in jail for drunk driving, and/or in the newspapers as has become the norm for one tabloid every Monday.