Tuesday, 8 November 2016


 photo courtesy: www.dreamstime.com

I am not a woman (thank you lord for that favour) but for once, let me pretend that I am one who happens to be married to a man who loves and worships the bottle and by that I mean a drunkard. So, in such a circumstance, how does a typical day look like?

Well, the beloved husband, probably called ‘baba’ Johnny, who happens to be the head of the family by virtue of the fact that he wears a trouser and an old coat, leaves very early in the morning, as if he is an expectant woman whose labour has arrived at the perfect timing. Speaking of labour, a little bird told me that the best time for pains to start is very early in the morning, rather than late at night, when finding a vehicle is a nightmare, unless you own one. He (husband) heads for the usual drinking den as if reporting to a new work station, following an appointment.

Whether the bar is a few metres or miles away, he will not care. What matters to him is to get there by all means. His mind is fixed on the end goal, which is to give that bottle of beer some kisses and trust me when I say that the bottle will get better and most passionate kisses than his dear wife.
As he gulps down the beer, to quench his supposed thirst, the beer will be tearing him to pieces.
“Another one!” He will shout at the bar attendant after swallowing the contents of the bottle.
He gulps down the contents of the second bottle in a similar manner, his Adam’s apple jumping up and down with excitement.

With every sip of beer, the man becomes less sober. With every bottle the bar maids become more beautiful. He buys them one or two drinks. Some evil minded – get rich quick – kind of bar maid might play along with his romantic ‘prey’ and ends up relieving of his hard earned cash.

Later in the evening, he will be heard singing songs off key as he heads to his house, walking blindly as is the norm. He will be staggering from one side of the road to the other, sometimes falling into a ditch.

The beloved husband and father will probably be hurling insults at everyone who passes by, and the recipients of the insults will ignore him, not that they are afraid of him, but because they are afraid of committing murder. Of course the general consensus among the insulted people will be that he is a stupid man from head to toe.

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If he was lucky, not to be robbed by the bar maids, then someone else will take the opportunity to empty his pockets of any legal tender, as he slips into a temporary coma by the road side.
By good luck he gets home, thanks to assistance by good Samaritans who most likely collected him from the ditch. Are you surprised? Actually we still a few good Samaritans existing in the twenty first century. He looks muddy and wet like a duck and has no recollection whatsoever as to how he got home. In fact he somehow believes that he had the strength to walk all the way home. He has forgotten that along the way, he slipped into a temporary coma, because of taking liquor on an empty stomach. He does not remember that some good Samaritans fed him with milk, to save him from imminent death.

The consolation is that, he is still safe and sound, except for a few bruises and cuts all round, the suspects being the frequent falls and some barbed wire somewhere, giving everyone a sigh of relief for, at least , they do not have to organize for a funeral. Remember coffins are expensive nowadays and you also have to tolerate some politicians who might want to hijack the funeral ceremony and turn it into an opportunity to gain political mileage or settle scores with an opponent. They have also been known to fight, during such solemn occasions.

His next target is food. Yes! Now he wants food! And he will bark at everyone as if he did them some good. He cannot even remember that he left the wife with no money for food and woe unto the wife, for without food, war will be part of life.

Then comes the dreaded time; time to retire to bed. The wife wants to sleep because of exhaustion and constant worry, while he husband wants to sleep because he is drunk. But the husband is all muddy and even the children are in agreement that he does not look like a daddy. But he wants to get into bed without having a shower. He is afraid of water! Yes, daddy and husband is afraid of taking a shower! But all the same, he will force his way to bed and snore away like a well fed pig, but wait, you switch off the lights and he will demand for his marital rights. You thought he was sleeping, huh!

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