JUBA CHRONICLES

In Juba, you can never miss two things: a fashion event and a marriage bidding. A fashion event is for youths who are sponsored in various universities of East Africa. The class that study and a door of “five years of experience” slam on their faces. So if you want to live a hustle life, initiate your plans. Fashion is a small scale business that will work for you. All yiu need to do is to borrow money, pay the venue in a lavish hotel. Invite few individuals who have NGO status as VVIPs. Again, go to government institutions, invite “your people” to come and attend. They will leave a brown envelope by the end of the day. Trust me. Only few Junubin don’t do that when they’re invited in such places. Only those who had money and got to countless wives. They like recognitions. Titles turns them on. After the event, write a long note. Don’t mind about your grammatical errors. We’re a lazy generation. We don’t care. As long as they don’t scratch or wear out the colour of our shrinking pounds, we don’t care! We’re Junubiin.

Anyway, where were we? The event, right? So, make sure you recognize them in your so called post or article, or whatever you call it. Don’t forget to mention their work places, especially if they’re working with the government. They will feel good and won’t fail to come in your next event. After bagging your few pounds. Pause! Your job is done. Don’t plan to throw another event. Have funs with your money. Change your location. Change your status. Buy a car. Go to Kampala, Nairobi or Cairo. Change your friends. Start hanging out with musicians, especially the female musicians. When you post something on Facebook, do not reply to some comments – especially the guys’ comments.

When you see you’re almost running out of cash, recycle the idea. Juba Chronicle. Convince some few malnourished female models. Create a WhatsApp group. Convince them to take part. Promise them that the pay will increase this time (though you know it will not). Do it. Make it happen. #pun ********************************************** Just like Sunday services, Freedom Hall never miss a wedding every Saturday. At least a good number of young people are deceive every weekend to walk majestically to the aisle at Freedom Hall. Arusas or Arusat (whatever the spelling is), talking of which, will make a good number of young peolle live below the poverty line for thirty good more years to come due to this marriage biddings. If you still call them marriage negotiations, then woe on to you. They’re marriage biddings. Take it or leave it! I will tell you in the voice of Keji-Keji Mayomism, ujinga sipendi!

I have just receive the news recently that one of our friends has been punch on the face with ten million pounds and fifty cows. Minus what we called *alokthok. Minus *awach, minus brown envelopes that he will put something in them when the relatives come to visit. Minus sponsoring two or three kids, minus the rent, house expenses, minus the time he will spend hidding because he cannot be seen taking Tusker Lager in a bar by his in-laws. For those of you who don’t know what alokthok is. It’s a small amount of money you give your in-laws so that they will be eating in your house and vice versa. Awach on the other hand is the amount of money or a cow that a man has to give as an apology for impregnating or eloping with the girl. To elope with your daughter, I must pay for my actions, really?

The old and cheap excuses that we have been receiving everyday is that, it’s an appreciation to the girl’s parents. You’re paying fortunes because the girl was brought up well. Again, really? What about me? I didn’t just come directly from a thatch-roofed factory, in my overalls and gloves to come and mint the resources, did I? Again, this girl you are conditioning me to pay this much, she was never brought up in Lavington, Muyenga or was she born at Mulago Hospital?

As far as we all know, the current girls in the market, at least 80% of them were born in the refugee camp where they were fed on low meals such as yellow porridge with no sugar, unclean hesh (bread), went to the same schools with us where school uniforms were never bought by the parents but by UN. The sanitary pads they used to put on….hmmmm…God knows. The point is, all our parents struggled to raise all of us. Like Chimamanda put it, culture never make people, people make the culture. So what’s the point of dragging your daughters into the mud at your sunset ages yet you can never see even the end of a tunnel? What’s wrong with the culture? The funny thing is that, some parents complains a lot when their sons who are paying that figure but will get numb when their daughters are getting married and that amount is being paid.

You demands too much from your sons in-law. Your daughter demands affluent life even when she is not working. You scold him by reminding him about what the society will say about him and his family? Like how, fathers in-law? You want your other kids to be sponsored by me? When anyone from your village get sick, you expect me to treat him. Are you okay?

This is not a compulsory class, but I think girl child, you should collude here with young and unmarried men and fight your freedom. For a minute, switch off your phone, take off your wig, drink cold water and then stare at the wall. Ask yourself why your boyfriend is cheating on you. If you’re married, ask yourself why your man has never leave behind his phone unlocked. Ask yourself why your man always prefer to watch football than meeting your people.

Zack Mayul, 2019.