Light talk on Monday: ‘Varsity student vows to frustrate gov’t by going into prostitution

We were at Villa Kagwentha last Saturday womanising, chilling and imbibing as usaual. Zikomo Matope, who has been complaining of financial problems for sometime now, says things are getting better. His salary isn’t hiked. He is the same Zikomo I know. But he told me repeatedly last Saturday that things are getting better.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Divaluweshoni, have we ever been to this place before?”

I shook my head. Zikomo was right. We had never been to Villa Kagwentha, the warm heart of Nkhata Bay, before. Our places of fun, as far as Mzuzu City is concerned, are Sports Cafe, Interland and Paris Club International.pius-logo lighttalk

“Look,” Zikomo said pointing at a girl standing by the counter.


“Isn’t she more beautiful than my wife?”

“Do you really love your wife?”

Zikomo emptied the remaining contents of his Carlsberg Green in two gulps.

“I do,” he said. “But because I do she thinks that she is the only woman in the world that I know.”

“But you once told me that it is because you loved her dangerously that you got married to her.”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he brought up a different issue altogether.

“Why is it that there are a lot of young girls at this place?”

“How can I know?” I asked back.

He left where we sat and walked towards the girl standing by the counter. In no time, they came back hand in hand, chit-chatting.

“Meet my good friend Divalushoni Che Yusuf,” Zikomo said, introducing his sweet sixteen to me. “He is to me just as I am to beer and women.”

I laughed.

“Diva,” he said, gulping down his tenth bottle. “For the past three minutes she has been my girl friend. Her name is Winnie Phiri. For your own information, she is a university student.”

“Is it true?” I asked her.

“Yeah,” she said with the kind of voice that made my member between my legs somersault.

Zikomo excused himself, saying he was going to buy more drinks for us.

“Why are you found here then?” I asked Winnie.

“I thought you as a journalist you know,” she said. “Government has abandoned us. I’m from a poor family. How do you expect me to survive in town when prices of basic needs are escalating and yet government isn’t caring?”

“What do you mean?”

“We want our upkeep allowances hiked from the current K40 000 to K65 000 but it seems government isn’t ready to bow down to our demands,” Winnie said. “And, in turn we’ll frustrate it by going into prostitution. We’ll get HIV and die before government reaps anything from us.”

I was dumbfounded.

“How many beers have you hammered?”

“As many as you have hammered,” she told me, looking me straight in the eye.

I was about to ask whether or not she was going to sleep with my good friend Zikomo Matope but she left, going the same direction Zikomo had taken.

I’m a big person. I knew what was going to happen there.

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