These promo people wueeh. Hadithi, hadithi, hadithi njoo. Story, story, story come. Once upon a time, way back in Nyayo hostel, a promo girl knocked on our door. As the Bible says, ‘knock and it shall be opened,’ you should have seen us all proud of ourselves that we were the one’s opening the door, sort of like Bruce Almighty. Once the door opened, a brown skinned girl, with teeth whiter than milk, flashed dimples upon us as she began to pitch her sales speech. She informed us that if we bought her toothpaste we’d win various merchandise like carpets which she supposed had been left near the cyber cafe. Little did we know that this daughter of Jezebel was a mistress of conmanship or should I say conwomanship.
My roomie was the first to go at it only to win a toothbrush, she not wanting to be left with henwa, convinced me that mine was gonna be the big win. I came out 200 bob poorer but a key holder richer and the promo girl left for her next unsuspecting victims. We felt so defeated and after much sulking we decided to take a walk to the nearby Kahawa barracks and make some random purchases. You know the way you feel rejuvenated after a shopping spree.
Ndio Sisi hao tukaingia AFCO, shopping bag in hand, an array of assorted goods in the shopping basket only to arrive at the counter and be asked to produce our family card. We left the goods at the counter and walked outta there faces down like rained on dogs.
Nadhani nikiingia hapo sasa na hii Jersey sitasitishwa hiyo family card. Nitafutieni hiyo firimbi niingie uwanjani.
#StillTheChronicler.
Pitched.
