When we take pride in drinking too much

I like this 1990s song, Sifa za Kijinga, by the one-time famous music duo, Wagosi wa Kaya, namely Fredrick Mariki (aka Mkoloni) and John Simba (aka Dr. John).

Sifa za Kijinga is Kiswahili for foolish pride.

Types of foolish pride as highlighted by Wagosi wa Kaya are, for example, this guy eats so much, this man beats his wife almost daily, and this other guy has such a huge stomach!

Or, there’s this other fellow who takes a shower just once a month!

Another guy is “famous” for drinking (without shame) at the expense of others.

And, I know this is what ‘The Pub’ reader wants to hear: The Wagosi throw jibes at those who shower with praise persons who drink too much.

Like when they “quote” someone saying, “This guy can spend the whole night in a bar!”

The refrain of the song is “Wanatuboa sana.” Meaning, giving kudos to people that aren’t worthy of praise “bores us stiff!”

We’re all familiar with drinkers who speak with pride about how they drink on and on, so long as there’s still money in their wallet. Or the wallet of some sponsor!

I’ve this younger ndugu in my ancestral village—call him Dulla—who considers brands like Serengeti, Kilimanjaro, and even Safari a joke.

On my recent visit upcountry, I invited him for a beer at Kwa Anna, the popular roadside bar at our main shopping centre.

When we both settle down, I order two big Safaris at a go for Dulla and a Castro Laiti for myself.

He declined a glass, saying he enjoys his beer, taking it straight from the bottle.

I’m hardly halfway through my 330 ml Castro when Dulla lifts up his second beer, giving it a shake to check if there’s any drop remaining.

He leads the bottle to his mouth, polishes off the last drops before putting it back on the table with a thud!

“Bro, thank you so much…I should be going now,” says Dulla.

Now I had invited this clansman of mine, not just to buy him booze, but also to enjoy a conversation with him. Yeah, I need some village updates.

However, with his bedazzling speed of “blowing the trumpet,” I say to myself, how long will it take before he renders himself incomprehensible?

“Will you have another beer, Dulla?” I ask him.

“Beer? Me? Oh, no? To me beer is just like water—order for me those,” he says, pointing to a shelf where several little bottles are lined.

He says two of those, each priced at Sh2,000, will be enough.

When the two 200ml bottles of “Smart Gin” marked 37 percent alcohol content come, I suggest he needs a bottle of water to neutralise the stuff.

He laughs that off, saying, “Water will render the drink worthless—me, I take it straight and pure… A real man should take his drink without softening it!”

As Dulla boastfully sips his gin—straight from the little bottle—my mind reminisces about Wagosi wa Kaya’s song, “Sifa za Kijinga.”