Hi, My name is Wayne Smythehard-Bugglesworth and I just recently arrived in Uganda.
From the United Kingdom, that is.
The UK is great and everything, but sometimes you realize you need to do something for the less fortunate, you know. I mean, being from the cradle of civilization and all (London) I think it’s very noble and classy and cool of me to leave, especially if I am coming here, to Africa.
A lot of people, dear readers of Urban Legend, think Africa is just this horrible, awful, buggered jackhole of poverty and they are mostly right. But there is no buggery in Africa. It’s illegal.
Must remember not to try any.
A lot of people think of Africa as this dark continent full of primitive starving kids and wild animals and stuff, and that’s why I came. Cos it sounds like you need my help.
But hey, not all of Africa is just poverty, you know! There are cities here and busses and airplanes! There is electricity and MTV and Lady Gaga! This is really great. Well done, you guys!
So before I go off to save the rest of the country of Africa, I’m here in the capital city, Uganda. Here in Uganda, the locals call me “Muzumbo,” which translates into “white man” in Runyankore, the vernacular spoken in this region. It’s very funny, isn’t it? Isn’t it interesting and colourful and remarkable and exotic how the locals have different words than us?
I recently came across the word Offals. Until that day, I didn’t know the meaning of this word. We don’t have it in the UK. We only eat McDonalds and Dominos pizza where I live, so I continue to be ignorant of the fact that there are several dishes from all over the UK and Europe that are made with livestock offals.
That evening I went to eat offals with the Urban Legend gang. ‘Offal?’ I thought. Sounds a bit like ‘awful.’ Never mind, everyone else seemed pleased.
I guess there may be an African in the UK being taken out for a meal of tripe and thinking: “Tripe? Back home we’ve only ever used that word to refer to something silly and nonsensical.” But like I said, I don’t even know that there is tripe back home.
So we got to the place and this is what they served me. It turned out that “offals” meant byenda! Eugh! Disgusting! I had to drink a lot of beer to even get the courage to think of tasting it. There was no ketchup and no fries and no cheese-dip on it at all!
The ULK guys saw my discomfort and my expression sent them into wild fits of African laughter. African laughter sounds like this: “NNN!”
I ordered a couple of beers, sending the waiter into a wild fit of African service. He returned and I took a huge gulp to get the courage to eat this meat. Fortunately, this wild African beer got me drunk enough to not care. I even wrote an article.