The rain came down in long sharp shards. Like little furious spears. I ran from Coffee and Bagel next door into Pinotage Bar And Restaurant along Lenana Road to seek better shelter. My car was getting washed which is a most counter-productive thing to do in the rainy season. There was soft music playing. It felt warm inviting and safe.
A Chinese man seated alone, head low, was eating what looked like groundnut sauce at a table. I’d heard of their menu, so I walked to the buffet even though I wasn’t hungry. It was 4 pm. There was groundnut sauce, traditional vegetables, chicken, cassava, pumpkin, dried meat in sauce, beans, rice, plantain, chapati…
Without any reason at all I ordered the plantain and groundnut sauce because I didn’t know when else I’d find that anywhere. There must be a name for a man who eats when they are not hungry. I sat in the corner of the restaurant and ate slowly as I looked at the mayhem that the rain brought outside. The traffic on the road built up. Wipers waved furiously, like lovers off to war. It felt like it would not stop raining. That we would live like this, in the rain, until the end of times.
After the meal, I sat there thinking, ‘This was such a great meal. I should come back here one day.” The Chinese fellow ran into the rain. I walked over to the bar in the next room. Music was playing.
There was a couple having drinks and seated so close together that their heartbeats were possibly beating in tandem. I sat at the bar which is where people who eat when they don't need to sit, like Bogi Benda. There I ordered hot water and lemon and listened to the rain over the music. I wished I had carried a book from my car to read. It’s a scathing book about President Kagame, written by a white person. (Can you tell I'm a fan of Kagame?)
Later, much later, the rain stopped as suddenly as it started, right before dusk. I even heard the relief in the voices of the evening birds.
