A village drunkard would always sing; what I have eaten is the one that belongs to me. Because of that, we begun calling him akunareire-meaning what I have already eaten. I did not know his song carried some meaning until I received a wedding invitation from a lady for whom I had ‘given up my life’ to win her heart forever.

The first day I met Tricia was during our S.4 leaver’s party at Mbarara High School. That day was like I had never seen a beautiful Kyana. I remember grappling with words to convince her that I was the Romeo of her heart. Boy, Tricia had a charming smile.

Problem: Tricia’s Reverend Dad was too strict on his only ‘saved’ daughter. The only chance she got to interact with people of the opposite sex like me was during the school outings and annual social gatherings when we invited their school.

And that’s how we had met this unforgettable Saturday. No sooner had we started interacting than Tricia started calling me her bull, and I called her my sheep.

Wait a minute! It’s not what you are thinking.  The Bulls is our slang for boys from Mbarara High School while the Sheep is for girls from Maryhill.

After the party, it took us long to meet again. We were only communicating through the power of the written word. I remember receiving over 80 letters in the first year I left my home district to study in Kampala. But still I got no chance of meeting the belle.

Till one time when I got a vine that Tricia was going to be at a certain party in her village, which is about 19km from my home. It is the only chance I could get to meet my ‘lost rib’ as I considered her. But I had never gone to Tricia’s village.

In two hours after the news, I was already clad in my black Christmas suit and my treasured back to school Bata shoes headed for Tricia’s village on what my mama gave me-my footsbish. I had no money, and couldn’t spoil things by telling my parents where I was going.

So I was on the road, to my dreams.  Poor me; I was like Vasco Da Gama doing exploration work. You remember that guy in your primary history.

After a good three hours on this Makopolo mission, I reached the ‘Promised Land’. I could hear the music blazing.

By 9:00pm, me and Ambrose (a friend I had come with to boost my confidence) were already at the party. I knew it for sure that I wasn’t in Tricia’s plans for the day. But when she saw me coming, she rushed and hugged me.

I was enjoying every moment with her and congratulating myself for having come. But the people of Nyakayojo saw me as an invader in their kingdom. The man who did not fear getting intimate with the Reverend’s daughter.

That’s why I soon proposed to Tricia that we get another place from where we could sit and talk without those suspecting, intruding eyes of her village mates.

We were heading to a bar in the nearby trading centre when a group of LDU (Local Defense Unit) guys interrupted us. “You man. Where are you going with our daughter?” they asked me in unison. They got hold of me and whisked me back to Tricia’s home where I found the man of God waiting to crucify me. My!! It was like a bad dream yet it was real.

The Reverend asked for the ropes immediately. I prayed to my God to give me the strength of escaping from his appointed shepherd. As a believer, I knew that prayer works.

I can never tell from where I gathered the strength to slip out of the ‘metallic’ hands of one of the LDUs. Heh! I took to my heels in a way that only Dorcas Inzikuru or Moses Kipsiro can imagine to manage.

I ran through the bushes not knowing which way would finally lead me home. What made matters worse is that in the jungle, I could mistake anthills for the wild pigs, which I was told, are common there. It was such a relief when I managed to reach home.

And after taking me through all this, I was shocked less than two years later when I received an invitation that Tricia was getting married. Imagine, after what this reverend’s daughter made me go through, I remained empty and hungry just because I hadn’t “eaten” her and therefore she wasn’t mine as the drunkard would say.

By Kworora Munaabi, Ultimate Media