getting rid of.... my potbelly

Soon I will be employing measures to flatten out my nascent potbelly and avoid television cameras.

This drastic measure has been informed by various but connected behaviors by my peers and folks in the village where I was born and schooled.

These connected behaviors emerged and increased as my potbelly emerged and started to increase.

Where I come from potbellies are seen as a sign of wealth, sence of knowhow and above all influence in 'high places'.

Meaning, that an individual with a potbelly, regardless of the cause, is viewed in a different light from the ordinary mortals.

Villagers do not care to verify whether the potbelly is caused by worms, red meat or illegal, chemical rich, cheap brews. They are only interested with the fact that you have a bulging belly.

Every time they see you with a potbelly they say, without bothering with pleasantries, “boss umefika” “sasa utatusaidia”.

From then on they will give you all their problems, since, somehow, they think your potbelly will open doors for you and in the process solve their myriad of problems. The problems are diverse as I will let you on later.

Now my case is different since I also happen to be a journalist and according to them am not an ordinary journalist like Kamau wa ngatheti who plies his trade in the nearby town. (Kamau is a respected newspaper journalist in my home district}.

My not being an ordinary journalist is informed by the fact I work in Nairobi. The big city. The source of wealth and influence.

I have never told them my profession but I recently learnt how they found out.

You see, I used to attend government spokesman's Alfred Mutua's Thursday press briefings.

Now, those briefings are taken seriously by rural folks since they believe the government is talking. It was there that people in my village and other neighboring villages saw and heard me ask a question.

They also have been seeing me in press conferences addressed by by cabinet ministers

They see me in what is called cutaways in journalism parlance.

This is where a clip of those attending a gathering is shown to television audience when the speaker is talking..

Now my cutaway was once broadcast at a presidential function as I recorded furiously on my notebook a presidential joke!

That and other cutaways with ministers and such other wealthy and influential people have graced television screens in my village and villages bordering it.

The few passing seconds am on television and now my emerging potbelly have convinced my village mates that I am a very important person. In fact when I pass people stop to point fingers at me . Parents are now telling their children to study as hard as me! Am a role model.

My diverse problems, therefore, are informed by the fact that all manner of persons are coming to me for help every time I go visiting my loved ones.

Girls want lunch from me - I am wealthy.

Boys want endless supply of beer from me - I am 'the boss'

Form four leavers want me to find them jobs - I am influential.

Teachers want me to give a inspirational talk to students - I am a role model.

Parents want me to counsel their children - I do not know what they see in me.

Parents want me to secure employment for their children - am influential.

In a neighboring village I recently visited I found out I am a celebrity. A village celebrity after all they see me on television.

Now you know the source of my diverse problems and how a am solving them by flattening my tummy coupled with avoiding television cameras.