The Day a K10 made me a millionaire!

I was in Yambezhi – my sweetest home district, away from the chaotic life of Kopala visiting my folks when the phone call came. It would change my life for ever!

“Gramps your phone has been ringing…..” my little adorable and chubby granny, Josh darted towards me. The kid must cut down on chicken, his favourite food, I observed.
I was lazing about under a generous shade of a decades-old rosewood tree, slowly munching roasted mice as I enjoyed my munkoyo – of course, my mom is the best brewer of the popular traditional soft drink in the entire Yambezhi!

“Hello…..” I hollered in the phone and waited.
“Mucho (friend)…..where’ve you been?” It was the legendary Lazona…..a chum from boarding school days who was now a big bwana in Zambia Police Service. “You’re all over the news!”

Was he pulling my legs, typical of him? Lazona won’t just call you unless there’s something earth-shattering.

“As far as I can recall, I haven’t robbed a Bank….” I quipped as I waited to figure out where the discourse was heading to.
“My foot! Stop playing monkey tricks with me,” he sounded exasperated. “I wasn’t trained by the Scotland Yard for nothing! Spare me at least 10 pin to fix my BMW. I’ll pay you back at the month end…”

If he only knew how I was desperately hankering for that kind of money, he wouldn’t be teasing me like that. I was now masticating the last bits of my favourite delicacy – the head of the mice, to be precise!

“Iwe, if you don’t claim that money, word on the street is that it shall be forfeited to charity!” he exclaimed.

“I totally have no clue what you’re talking about….” totally at sea.

“Hmmmm” he sounded irritated. “You’ve won the lotto and yet you don’t want to claim the money!”

Say what! Then my mental faculties were awakened to events of the recent days before I made my way to Yambezhi……land of my ancestors. As I stopped at a roadside cafe to grab some water and snacks after a punishing drive from the city, the indifferent shopkeeper claimed he change. I almost summoned days of my youth as a radical one and smacked him right across his mouth! How could he afford to be so lethargic and lukewarm when I was in a hurry to get to my folks?

“So what do you expect from me?”
My big eyes swept around the place momentarily. Patrons were frantically completing their lotto tickets. At that particular moment, a fancy idea crossed my feeble mind. It wouldn’t break a bone or two if I splurged a few coins on lotto.

“Okay, give me a lotto ticket……” I pronounced, authoritatively.

I didn’t even waste time figuring out the numbers…..I just picked my year of birth and added a few other digits here and there and deposited the ticket.

“Lazona…..” I finally found my voice as I recovered from my reverie. “I can confirm I’ve won the lotto!”

All of a sudden, I felt like I was sitting on a nest of thorns. I sprung to my feet and immediately cut the line. I didn’t need my sikolokolo anymore. I retrieved my simcards and tissed it away, violently.

“Are we safe,” my beloved aging mom who had been dosing all along was saying.
Of course, we were safe! I asked our headman to find the most prized heifer in the village…….it was party time! Almost the entire village turned up – we ate the meat, danced to the local renditions even as folks quaffed alcoholic beverages including Chavuma water! Thank God, our village headman cracked the whip and gave marching orders to truant youngsters who tried to spice up the occasion by smoking fwaka ya chingoni!

“Don’t worry old man” I assured the owner of the cow as he kept pestering me for his money. “By 10 o’clock tomorrow, the money will be credited to your phone. Am now a millionaire!”
Good news, just as bad always travels faster! By wee hours of the day, a local businessman who owned a local kantemba was on my door to take me to the station. How word got to him was a matter of guess work.

Anyway, there were still some 30 more seats remaining to filled in the 60 seater bus. I had to be in a place of civilization – where at least, they had some Banks before the end of the day!

“My friend….if you can get me to Solwezi before Banks close, I’d pay for the remaining seats…”

I could see the conductor whispering to the driver; they were of course nodding and grinning as they looked in my direction.
And voila! I was being treated like a King all of a sudden. They allocated me the safest seat behind the driver’s seat and pampered me with all sorts of goodies as the journey progressed.
“Boss, what would you like to eat? Can we get you a drink? Or even water perhaps?” They kept egging me on. “What about bubble gums, don’t you partake?”

Everything seemed to be moving so fast. I immediately called my wife in Kopala and instructed her to go to Toyota Zambia and get a zero mileage ‘ichipaso.’ I also contacted my Bank manager to arrange an over draft for me to secure the most valuable mansion in Kopala on the market and equally made an order for designer clothes from Harrods in England via my former class mates.

“Aah iwe chimudala,” the decorum and respect had suddenly vanished in thin air. “We are now in Kabwe and you keep changing goal posts. Wake up, the police want to have a word with you?”

I woke up with the start! Mukobeko Maximum Prison was instantaneously on my kind. Meanwhile, my wife was sleeping soundly next to me. There was no bus. Not even the police station but in our humble abode…..

These dreams will kill me one day

Prince Bill M Kaping’a
Political/Social Analyst