So I was in a bank today, opening up a new bank account for my new business. Following my new year resolution to do those things that benefit me like befriending forward-thinking guys yo meeet the same end. I strutt in all documents in hand, neatly prepared. My partner goes first as he has to rush back to our small business. Great service I think, this is a verg mordern bank, breaking new records as they come up.

As he leaves in a rush, he leaves me behind as I finalize with all the dotting i’s and crossing t’s process in the bank. You see the attendant was directed by his friend, so he was first becoming an acquaintance of ours, great service. My pal jumps in again, he had forgotten to leave behind the cash we were to deposit and was bringing it. As he handed it to me, the bank attendant looks up from his 17″ hp tft screen, pausing his progress,

“na yangu ya lunch….? ” (what about my lunch…..?)

I almost flipped, pulled off my hair, caused a scene, and before I could formulate any words, my partner smiles and tells him that I WOULD LEAVE SOMETHING SMALL. I follow suit with the smiles and hold my silence.

Here we are trying to make a proper living in a brutal space, in a town where the Governor has just added the annual business registration fee. And a bank attendant wants his ‘lunch’ from me, ontop of the salary he gets for services rendered under his contractual obligation.

Sad day indeed, when corruption roots into the private sector attacking the financial sector in its growth. Next time the supermarket attendants will ask for ‘lunch’ or ‘tea’ when eating is too far fetched to fathom.

When will we wake up? Lemme fight my part as I wait for shopkeepers to ask for the same.

Pardon my outburst. 


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