Napoleon’s gemstone idea buries his hard-earned cash

SACCO

By Pascal Mwandambo

 “Mwalimu,” he said, “I am thinking of starting a small business and probably venture into the gemstone trade.”

I looked at him skeptically, wondering what serious business one can undertake with slightly less than 100,000 shillings.

“You don’t understand. I will start with some gemstone samples I will buy from a broker in Mavumbi town,” he followed up, grinning.

From there I will cross the border and sell the same at a much higher price,” added the ambitious trader.

I usually don’t like standing on the way of a person pursuing his ambition so I chipped in

“They say all dreams are valid. Just be careful not to put all your eggs in one basket,” was my advice.

I could see Napoleon beaming with excitement after I backed his business idea.

Despite being as mean as church mouse, Napoleon offered to buy beer as we fine-tuned his business ideas.

We strode triumphantly into Makuti bar and ordered for cold beers, thanks to the dividends my agriculture colleague had received.

Yondo Sister, the bar attendant came over and continued hovering dutifully around our table, a slight grin on her face.

Napoleon noticed that and asked her to take a soda. The grin gave way to a smile.

He then asked her to turn off the music to allow us deliberate on some serious issues.

“I thought music is supposed to be organized noise,” I opined.

There are quite a good number of gemstone sellers in Mavumbi town.

In the evening we managed to get one of them.

I excused myself to leave, slightly high on the beer.

I need to unwind and gloss over some chemistry examination papers.

At around 9 pm, when I was about to retire to bed, Napoleon called me.

He sounded worried and a trifle angry.

“I need your help,” he sounded a bit agitated.

At first what came to my mind was trouble with Yondo Sister after refusing to foot the bills as he  sometimes does when high on alcohol and low on reasoning.

“The chaps have done me in. They sold me fake gemstones. My fifty thousand is gone!” he yelled.

I wondered what to do to help a colleague in such a fix.

“The best thing to do is to report the matter to the police. The conman needs to be arrested and thrown behind bars,” I quietly told him.

“I have been to Mavumbi police station but the officers have refused to listen to me. They claim I am too drunk to make a statement,” Napoleon complained bitterly.

I asked him to take a night rest, sober up and pursue the case the following day.

As they say, things had become elephant.

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