If you try to make people donate money, even for the most heart breaking cause by telling them that they’re fatuous, over paid buy-sexuals who splash money on irrelevant things to convince themselves that they’ve achieved something in life, they’ll get pissed off and tell you to choke on your poverty and ideals, which is why you have to be smart about things, like Mara foundation.
They organized a very unusual dinner at Open house to which corporate types with TV accents and bulging wallets were invited, unusual because six of the most eligible singles in the city were lined up for auctioning to the highest bidder. This was to raise money for Apollo Kaggwa- Mukono, a school for visually impaired kids.
It’s fantastic what a couple of bows, squiggly ribbons and nice smelling women can do to a place. I had never seen Open house look so glamorous.
The people on sale were: Darlene, Michelle, T-ROD, Joan, Carlo an∂ Danny.
The emcee was a fat guy in a Hawaiian shirt called Dennis Mawanda. He wasn’t the worst emcee in the world but his limp jokes, talent for mispronouncing names and very bad kiwani accent made him hard to like.
For entertainment, we were given Afro-fusion songstress Tshilla and her brilliant dress. People like her perform at dinners to provide a pleasant background for the bubbling chatter and tinkling laughter that indicates that a gathering is going well. It’s only when you’re having a horrid time that you actually pay attention to the singer, right?
She rocked, so hard that after her first performance, Mawanda called her Wycliffe Jean.
Seriously? A pretty girl in a frilly kitenge dress and the best he could come up with was Wycliffe?
Allow me a tiny digression, on the subject of photographers. Those photographers who tell you to pose and grin against branded backdrops are EVIL. If, like me, you can’t smile on demand, a cacophony of spasms will jump off your face when he yells ‘smile!’ and he’ll take the picture when your face is at its most hideous and then you’ll then get tagged on facebook looking like a rabid doll.
Mara foundation did a good job charming their guests. They left nothing to chance, making sure, like the perfect boyfriend, that every part of the night would charm us into putting out at the end of the night. The food, drinks and a movie created by 256media, were convincing enough to loosen purse strings even more. Isaac, proprietor of 256media became infinitely more attractive when the video was attributed to him.
Bachelorette 1 was Darlyne, who the emcee called Dalen. When auctioning began, all eyes swung mercilessly to Baz’s seat (because we all know he has a vested interest in this Dalen). He kicked things off with 100 bob. The guys at the smart TV table were a lot keener, because they bided highest and won her.
Next was Michelle. She was a hit. A pretty girl like that with a great body like that and a dress so determined to show it off like that? Of course she was a bestseller.
Her auction went on forever and after a lot of squealing, sashaying by Michelle and fanfare, Abu won.
T-ROD was the first bachelor. He looked like a cross between the cutest guy in your church and one of those PR executives who walk into office on a dull Tuesday afternoon and freeze time with their looks. He even had the name of a porn star. T-ROD. It didn’t help that he started things off by offering to lose his coat for 30 bob.
The crowd wanted action, so they offered more money for him to lose both his coat and tie which he peeled off with such obvious pleasure that Connie from smart TV and Ishta immediately got more aggressive. Things became heated and both of them won a date with him in the end without any weave pulling, face scratching or purring. Sadly.
Danny was bachelor number two. His bio said ‘Danny can dance the pants off anybody’. Not only did the crowd believe him, they were determined to get proof. Somebody offered him a tenner to dance, which he scoffed at but when Flora waved a 30 bob at him, his will crumbled. To Ashawo, he shimmied over to her seat and shook his butt very hard. Things were wild.
Who remembers Mr. Nice’s ekidalipo dance? If you do, imagine it in slow motion. That’s the move he rocked when the emcee made him groove to a to a kadongo kamu song.
My curfew descended before Joan and Carlo hit the stage, but if the other auctions were to go by, they must have pooled a tidy sum for those Mukono kids.The crowd was nice, the bachelors and bachelorettes, charming and the food bombastic. I still dream about that crispy eggplant.