It is not easy for me to admit this—you know I am a proud man, but two things compel this confession. One is that you don’t believe anthing I say in this column anyway and two is that I hope my struggle, my overcoming this struggle, indeed my testimony, will encoureage others who are going through the same predicament.
The thing is, I am broke. Yes, I, a widely acclaimed genius in the art of financial engineering, the same dude who told you that his wealth is so great that he could fracture your jaw by slapping you with his ATM card, have fallen on hard times.
I am not ashamed, I know lesser men have been afflicted, and I do appreciate that the Vision group is going to give me more money at the end of the month, so this is not a permanent situation, but while it lasts, I have had to adjust, from the lavish decadence and indulgent luxury I am accustomed to. I have been cutting corners. Let me show you how, as I present, corners being cut.
Tell nandos you will see them in may: then start the week at Munna’s stall. That is where you shall buy three Rolexes. When you get home, please cut these three Rolexes into several pieces and distribute them out into five bowls. That is supper for each day of the week.
Be a vagabond: Reduce transport costs drastically by bringing a mattress, blanket, a toothbrush and a few shirts to the office. Why should you pay good money to those usurious taxi people to travel to a distant suburb just to sleep when there is a secure and empty parking lot right outside?
You don’t have to tell the boss, of course. Not that I doubt her seeing the brilliance of the plan, not that I think she will not sympathise. It is just that her jurisdiction ends after working hours and it is none of her business where you sleep.
And since you are storing your five rolex portions in the office fridge, you save on electricity.
The splash .. that you bought and diluted with water to make enough juice for a week is going to go down without sugar.
.Sugar. Is going to be difficult, because, as I recently found out by looking at a price tag for the first time in three years, the price of this shit has gone up. I will therefore have to employ a cunning ruse to guilt people into surrendering the sugar in their own homes. Apparently there is some furor going on concerning a forest that is slated for decimation. Somebody wants to replace it with a sugar plantation and the nation is blue with outrage over this, this environmental outrage. A boycott of the sugar company’s branded products has been called for and anyone who does not participate risks stern looks and societal disapproval.
I have prepared my speech. “What is this? Let me taste… this is Lugazi sugar! How can you consume this product? Do you know what this company is doing to the environment? We must all boycott this … give it to me. Hand over all the lugazi sugar you have!”
If they are not convinced, plan b involves a renewed attack wherein the indignant rhetoric is reinforced with fake statistics. “fourty million hectares of carbon dioxide are produced every time a tree is cut down! Did you know that? In the end the whole of Uganda will be burnt to a crisp by the ultra violent rays of the ozone layer! It has already happened in china.” At this point I think it would be such an emergency that I will be justified in taking the sugar by force.