Mbasitwa

African Shepherd paying attention🙌😂

THE DAY MY BELT BETRAYED ME IN PUBLIC.

My people, there is shame… and then there is South Sudanese shame that can finish your whole life. That day? Eh, no part two.

It was Saturday, wedding day. You know in Juba, if there is no wedding on Saturday, the sun will refuse to shine.

I borrowed my brother Gatluak’s native clothes because I wanted to pepper people small. The way I dressed, even my walk changed — I was moving like an MP entering parliament.

But the trousers? Big like a UN food bag. I said, no problem, my belt will hold it like SPLA soldier.

Mistake of the year.

At the reception, everything was fine until hunger started preaching to me:
“Go take rice and chicken, my son.”

I obeyed.

As I reached the food table, I felt trousers moving like they want independence. I ignored. Then suddenly — KPA!

My belt broke like a South Sudanese road during the rainy season.

Before I even prayed, trousers started falling down. One hand holding rice with a big chicken, the other hand holding trousers like I am catching a thief. Aunties opened eyes wide like they saw coup d’état. One even shouted like breaking news on Eye Radio.

Now imagine me: walking back like clown, trousers in one hand, chicken in the other, shame covering my whole body.

My friend whispered:
“Guy, why you catwalk like Bobrisky?”

I wanted to cry but hunger said, eat first, shame later.

I sat down the rest of the wedding, trousers in my hand like I am guarding national treasure.

⚠️ Lesson: Never trust borrowed trousers. Never trust a borrowed belt. Both carry the spirit of betrayal.

Gatluak, come collect your clothes before I sue you in customary court.

✍️ Mbasitwa 🥷