Long-lost favourite barmaid reappears!

She was likeable, albeit a little irritable at times. And she tended to be shy, looking away if you fixed your eyes on her for a couple of seconds. 

Something not typical of our sisters employed in bars, a workplace that’s often full of crooked male characters who consider women second-class human beings. Which is stupid, of course, but that’s us, given our misogynistic tendencies.

The young lady came out as a different kind of barmaid, discouraging men who tried to be overly familiar with her, especially those who think a woman can’t hear what a man is saying unless he touches her. 

You had a liking for her and always offered her a drink whenever she was the one serving you. And she often served you.

You appreciated her simplicity, like the fact that she didn’t drink, something atypical of barmaids. 

You often offered her a meal, but she always said, “No thanks, nimeshakula.” And when you told her to have a drink on you, she’d simply say, “I’ll just have a soda.”

At one time when you insisted that she take a beer—any brand of beer—her answer was: “It looks like you’ve not noticed me… I don’t take alcohol.” That was a surprise to you. 

You see, most barmaids you’ve associated with—including the innocent-looking ones like Lucy—will drink Lake Victoria dry as you watch!

Lucy and you became increasingly close as days passed, which is why this crooked buddy of yours, Allen Makengo, concluded that the lady and you are an item. 

Trust him! He has refused to acknowledge the fact that you’re different from the dirty old thug that he is when it comes to amorous matters.

Are you digressing? Yes, somewhat, sorry! You’ve so far talked about Lucy in the past tense, for she had mysteriously vanished from the popular bar she worked for, which is one of your favourite haunts.

Nobody, including the manager and the matron, gave you any clue of where she shifted to.

And then, today when you’re at this bar that’s near the place you call kwangu, the very bar you normally insist on taking the proverbial one for the road, a youngish woman with bubbling cheeks walks towards you, dancing to a melodic Bongo Flava song. 

A wide smile that displays her slightly coloured teeth reveals her identity. It’s Lucy!

“Looks like you’ve forgotten me, my good old friend Mzee Muya!” she remarks.

“True, I somewhat failed to recognise you, Lucy!” you say.

“Why?” she asks, “How can you forget me so easily, the way you cared for me at… (mentions her previous workplace).”

“You’ve changed so much…please have a drink… two actually,” you say.

She beckons the akaunta to give her two. She’s given two Sere Laitis promptly! When you remark that as far as you know, she doesn’t drink, she says, “That was long ago…and there were reasons for that…”

The conversation with the long-lost Lucy continues in the next edition of ‘The Pub.’