As usual, since I have not watched Big Brother, I will have to make up what happened. Your update, then.

Sheila is sitting on the sofa, languidly drawing on a cigarette, inelegantly and coarsely bored, when Tawana enters the room and joins her on the couch. Tawana is smiling broadly, but Sheila is frowning.

“Tawana, you know this is a big couch,” Sheila says. “Big enough for two people to sit comfortably on it. You don’t have to squeeze up so close to me. There is plenty of space.”

Tawana continues smiling. “I don’t mind being close to you. In fact I like being close to you. I’d like us to be … close, if you know what I mean.” She flutters her eyelashes.

Sheila is about to respond when their attention is drawn away by a sudden commotion. It is Morris running across the sitting room from the kitchen to the diary room. “Biggie, I have a problem. Can I come in?”

The door swings open and Morris enters. You can almost hear a weary sigh waft out of the speakers before Big Brother’s voice says, “Yes, Morris, what is it now?”

“We need better kitchen utensils,” Morris says. “I’ve been trying to chop vegetables in the kitchen but this knife doesn’t work. And it hurts.”

He raises his hands to Biggie’s camera. They are covered in blood.

“Morris, which end of the knife have you been using to cut and which end have you been holding?” monotones Biggie.

Ten seconds of blank stare from Morris follow before suddenly it hits him. “Oh, I get it. Thanks Biggie.” And he retreats from the room.

On the couch, Tawana has not stopped. “Your skin is lovely, Sheila. So so very smooth,” the Gaboronean coos.

“Kwanza hebu stop touch-touching my face you manze!”  snaps Sheila, lapsing into vernacular.
Latoya wanders into the sitting room looking very restless. “I am so totally bored. Isn’t there a guy nearby?”

“Morris just went through here. I think he is at the First Aid kit,” volunteers Tawana.
“What is that?” Latoya asks.

“You know it better as the box where they keep the condoms.”

And with that Latoya springs up and dashes off to where Morris had gone. With Latoya gone, Tawana can turn her attention back to fluttering her eyelids and licking her lips at Sheila. “Now, where were we?” she says, trying to make her voice husky.

Sheila who doesn’t seem to have got it yet, and is still perplexed by Tawana’s actions, replies, “I don’t know. The Twilight Zone?”

“That is what I like about you Sheila. You have such an adorable sense of humour. Hah hah hah!” fake-laughs Tawana. “Hey, let’s go for a dip in the pool. We can take our clothes off and leave them here…”

Sheila screws up her face. “You know Tawana, you are acting suspicious. If I didn’t know you were a woman like me I would suspect that you are trying to put the moves on me.”

At this moment Takondwa bursts in. “Sheila, do you have a matchbox? Mimi wants to see if she can get high by smoking the fluffy blue bits sticking out of the carpet—Oh.” He stops in his tracks when he sees that Tawana is leaning over Sheila like a blanket. “I didn’t realise you were… um busy,” he says. “I’ll leave you two alone. Please continue.” As he turns to leave he winks at Sheila and gives her a thumbs-up.

“What the fuck is going on?” Sheila explodes. “Somebody needs to tell me what’s going on here. And I don’t want sijui ati I don’t know. I demand an explanation! Kwanza quickly-quickly!”

“Hey, you don’t have to get mad. If you don’t want to have sex with me, it’s not like I’m going to rape you.” Tawana is miffed.

“Ati wooooott?” screams Sheila. “Why would I want to have sex with you? You are a woman!”

“Yeah, but you don’t mind that. You are a lesbian after all,” blinks Tawana.

Sheila exclaims, “%#$!!@^!!*&!!” And that is not a way of euphemising the word fuck. She actually pronounces a curse like that. “Ati a lesbian? Who told you I’m a lesbian? I’m norra lesbian! Ati wot?”

Tawana is very confused. “But everyone says you are a lesbian.”

“Who is everyone?”

“Don’t deny it, it’s all over the internet?” Latoya says, walking in. Behind her Morris staggers Morris. Panting.  He takes the cigarette from Shiela’s hand and takes a deep draught.

“The internet? How the hell do you even know what is on the internet?” Sheila turns to Latoya.

“Biggie lets me check my gmail and my Facebook messages,” she replies. “In exchange for a few favours.”

“Holy shit. You’re sleeping with Big Brother, too?”

“No. Don’t be absurd!” she scrunches her face. “Just a bit of fellatio now and then, that’s all. I need to stay connected, you know.”

Rico walks in. “Hey, Latoya, you got a minute?”

Latoya looks at Morris, who is now asleep on the floor, then she looks at Ricco. “You had better not mean that literally.” And she follows him to the bedroom.

 

(Ad break: I am contributing Uganda on the Web pieces to theKampalan.blogspot.com.  If you feel like kuwagilaring, or even if you are just interested in what Muwangizi Achilewo, that Mateos child preacher, was doing on the BBC, please click here.)

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