I have three Tanzanian friends and three other, not-Swahili friendly hooligans that I featured in the am ditching my friends post. It happened on one fateful weekend that these Tanzanian friends storm into my house with full adrenaline. Me and my boys were in our normal arguments of who is going to do the dishes.
Two of my friends, Matumbi and Munyoki are from Gachie and one Bongoman is a ‘man a bwad man’ from K-North. Matumbi doesn’t know ‘nit’ about English, he is endowed in Kikuyu Sheng’. I wonder how he reads my posts given that he pushes me to write more. I thank T412 for Munyoki now that he knows what ‘ng’ada’ means. He is the cool kid washed up in the wannabe uptown dialect. Sometimes he messes up as he tweng’s those syllables. Bongoman is a rastaman, talks slowly as if high on sugar rush (I hear sugar does the opposite to these guys. Goes to the hair, get’s filtered then comes back to the pulmonary artery and then to the butt then to the brain) He recently told us he plays football, something that Matumbi really felt bothered about. He had even thought of getting two-thirds majority rule to kick him off the squad. Then there is me, the great linguist familiar of all the languages, the master of literature, Sheng’irature and Fasihi.
*In Swahili dialect*
“Nakwambia reo Siloma, kuna mtu ameja katuchamba mno.” One of my Tanzanian friends started a conversation with me.
Pyramidal glances swayed from Matumbi, the most cheeky, to Bongoman whose dancing rasta really withered down like a hairless pig in cold and to Munyoki who really played the cool kid here. They then bowed down to scroll their Infinix phones *Disclaimer: Matumbi doesn’t own an infinix, he owns ‘something to use’ which doesn’t really qualify the name phone. You know those messages that go like;
‘Hey this is Matumbi, you remember Siloma? I was the guy who said hi. Not the one who was in a blue hood but the one who was behind you in a canvas bag.’ – You never want to know how these bots use my name in those conversations but what do I say? It is good to help the less fortunate with your fame and the love you get from the world.
I love one thing about Matumbi, if something bothers him, he will re-reads all jokes on WhatsApp and show his two friends jokes from 2012 to conceal his state of distress. It was funny how he gave the guilty, watery cat eyes when he asked me what is ‘chamba’. There are words that automatically strike the nerves of my Kuyu friends; words like chaba, mbesha, skrep, waya, shuma and camera hold a very special place in their hearts. So Matumbi asks which chaba is this that we are talking about. He wonders why the word was used as a verb and not a noun (I hope he still has the iQ to remember this from his class 4 teacher)
Munyoki is bright, he acts like the cool kid, perhaps the best dressed-up guy in Gachie. He doesn’t ask what chamba is but he lowers down his Infinix to pave way for explanation. Bongoman is deep in a weird land, perhaps in a beach somewhere, not with a girl but seated under a palm tree with his earphones listening to ‘Why am I a Rastaman’. I wonder which type of a Kuyu is this that the word chaba goes unnoticed.
My friends burst in laughter, hi-fiving each other because they have a story to tell when they get back home to Tz. They leave, and I promise them that I will fully explain to Matumbi and his shamba boys on what chamba means. As soon as they leave, Matumbi starts giving me life advice. He tells me that I should not sleep on my ears. He tells me that these girls look like money and should not waste any chance that I have with that chaba. He assures me that they can even invest in it we get something from it. After all the convincing, he then asks me to explain what now the real chamba means. I refuse, telling him that he has made a fool of Kenyans and we will become Christmas stories in Tanzanian village as they sip their traditional brew.
It is then that Bongoman’s dancing rasta start swaying like corn against a swift wind something that alerts us that this guy is back to the world and asks, “Nani anaosha hizi vyombo, nani anapika?” Matumbi hates me to date because I have never explained to him what chamba really means. Thank God, he doesn’t know how to use a Kamusi nor even knows what that is. How can I not fool you with money Matumbi?