#bigbeggars

My five-year old niece was telling me about kids at their school who swoop in on other people’s break boxes. They descend upon the break-bringers, rubbing their little hands in anticipation, as they chant the “sharing is caring” line, to break even the meanest break-bringer.
And my niece is the giving type, but sometimes she doesn't even eat one bite because the beggars take everything. Some even grab and even proceed to eat the crumbs that drop on the floor (and these are children from DECENT homes, mark you.) Like hawks. Like bu-thieves.
One time here I wrote about a teacher who had a habit of invading another niece’s break-box and taking her daddies, biscuits, queen cakes, bhagia. Her mother confirmed what the child had been telling her when one Parents’ Day, the teacher (foolishly) told her, “Eh, bu bhagia bwo packingira Tendo nga buwooma!” (That bhagia you pack for Tendo is very tasty!). By the way, they take the goodies and then offer the child 'popocorns', bread etc.
I strongly believe this beggar thing follows you. That there are people who cannot hold back that desire when they see someone else with something. It overwhelms them and makes them lose all sense of shame. And there’s a huge difference here between a GENUINE request when you are GENUINELY hungry, but there’s this type who cannot hold back. That when their eyes see food, when their noses smell food, they have to have food, and if they had a begging bowl, then it would forever be in their hands.
And they even lurk in our workplaces. They see someone pulling out a pack of groundnuts, they want.
They spot another with fresh, boiled maize, mandazi. They hover, and eventually ask for one line.
They smell the chicken that a workmate is having for late lunch, they approach with, “can I tear-ko a little bit?” and as they speak, they are already tearing.
There was a Nnalongo I know, who would have lunch on other people's budgets. Yaani, she would move around, armed with her saucer on random days. She would have a spoon here, another there, a forkful here, a bite there- and her lunch was sorted. And people talked. Another, a father of two could never hold back on the, “Give me some”, even when he had just passed the sumbusa man on his way up, but could not spare some change and buy his own breakfast. He was like this dog in the Pavlov experiment.
Then there are those of “Give me a sip”, or the type who come bearing a paper cone for your hard-corn of 500 shillings. Bannange, mwefuge ko!
Granted, no man can live like an island, but have they ever given thought to the fact that they are paid, and they can also afford that which they kuyoya so much, and that it takes just a little planning and good manners?
To be honest, I know what torture the overpowering smell of chips can inflict, but even when my mouth is watering, I will never approach, unless you offer.
Like the Baganda say, “Omumpi w'akoma w'akwata.”