Jatelo swaggered into Mzee Kizito's bar like a government official inspecting a project—serious face, slow steps, but no real work to do. His shirt was half-buttoned, and his belly entered the bar a full second before the rest of him.

He reached the counter, cleared his throat, and barked like a man with urgency.

"Barman! Bring me a cup of chang'aa—before trouble starts!"

Mzee Kizito, busy dealing with other thirsty souls, barely looked at him. He poured a cup of the strongest stuff available, placed it in front of Jatelo, and went back to arguing with a customer who had been "paying tomorrow" since last week.

Jatelo lifted the cup, took a slow, dramatic sip, and smacked his lips like a hyena after sneaking into a village feast.

At the far end of the bar, Ochopolo, a man whose ears worked overtime, raised an eyebrow. Jatelo's words had weight like the clouds before a heavy storm. But Ochopolo knew better than to ask questions too soon.

A few minutes later, Jatelo slapped the counter again, now sitting taller, his confidence doubled by the magic of chang'aa.

"Another one—before trouble starts!"

Mzee Kizito, still busy fighting over unpaid debts, didn't even blink. He refilled the cup and went back to his business.

Ochopolo, who had been sipping his drink like a man waiting for a prophecy to unfold, shifted uncomfortably. He muttered under his breath, "Hii mtu yangu Jatelo leo trouble ganii inaongelea?." But he kept his thoughts to himself.

Jatelo, now fully in the spirit of the spirits, rolled his shoulders, exhaled like a man preparing for a great speech, and, with unshakable confidence, slammed the counter once more.

"One more—before trouble starts!"

This time, Mzee Kizito finally looked up, wiped his hands on his apron, and tapped Jatelo's shoulder.

"Jatelo, which trouble are you talking about?"he asked while whispering in his ear.

Jatelo grinned, leaned back, and just as the entire bar held its breath for his answer, he casually said "Actually… I don't have money for drinks."

The bar went silent.Ochopolo choked on his drink. The man who had been dozing in the corner suddenly woke up.

Mzee Kizito just stood there, blinking. His hand slowly reached for the long muratina stick behind the counter.

Jatelo, now realizing the real trouble had just begun, glanced at the door, calculated his exit speed, and whispered, "Aaah. Now it has begun."