WHEN I WAS SIXTEEN, the Chief Reporter at the Daily Nation (Bill Harris), an intrepid, red-haired Scotsman) took me to a reception at the British High Commission in Nairobi. He greeted people as well entered a large room ... we carried on walking up a set of stairs and came to a stop at a large glassed cupboard being guarded by a tall Luo guard wearing a white waiter's tunic and the usual red hat common in Egypt first. The Luo put his hands up and said: "Bwana the High Commissioner has told me to keep the whisky safe from you." To which Bill quietly patted the waited on his cheeks and said: "Bwana, you know what will happen if I do not have a drink or two of my medicine." With that the frightened Luo took off, promising to report Bill to the HC. He looked at me and said: "Remember this laddie, if you never drink anything else in your life, make sure you have at least a happy dram or two of a Scottish single malt whisky. There is nothing of the like of it an...
Goans, East Africans et al