Once Bosco and Monica had packed their bags, they used a taxi to travel to his girlfriend's place. Agnes Nzanzu rented an apartment in a place called Nzuguni which was in the eastern part of Dodoma city. It was historically an upscale neighborhood, with the cheapest self-contained rental costing six hundred WCs per month. Compared to the average rental price of one hundred and fifty to two hundred and twenty WCs per month, this was a costly sum.
When he asked her, how she was able to manage to stay in such an expensive place; she told him the place was part of her employment package, and as such it did not bother her.
At one time, she had even broached the topic of him moving in with her but he quashed it down. Yes, they were a loving pair, but he felt they had not yet reached that stage of them living together. Also, the idea, of him as a man; moving into a woman's place was an abomination to his pride as an African man. Growing up, he had been raised to believe that it was a woman to move into a man's place and not the other way around. If he did so, it could be equivalent to him being married to her, and yet it was supposed to be the other way.
Also, his parents raised him better than that. Should they hear or learn by themselves that he had left the university hostel and was staying in a woman's place, he did not doubt that his mother could have a heart attack while his father could give him a good lashing. This could be a big shame to the Masaba family name. They had high expectations of him, and this was a step too low even if it was done out of love.
"Bosco, are you sure that we are in the right place?" Monica who was seated next to him in the backseat of the taxi asked.
The scenery had changed to high-rise residential apartments on both of the road. The cars on the road were the latest models of EVs. They came in several models such as sedans, SUVs, and a few convertibles. Some of the EVs were regionally made but the majority were imported.
"Why?" He asked to gauge her assumptions even if he knew where her question was coming from. He knew it seemed ridiculous, that a struggling scholarship student like him was in a relationship with a belle from this neighborhood. Hell ya! It was preposterous but that was his life. Some people had even nicknamed this place, little New York because of the many high-rise apartment blocks.
Monica took a moment to answer him, she continued gazing fondly at the upscale neighborhood which they passed by. "How can I say it, you are a student at EAMU (East African Medical University) and this place is not in your class. Only the super-wealthy live here." She voiced her thoughts.
Bosco was not offended that she thought so. "Am glad you said it is not in my class. But it is my girlfriend's class."
"Nedda!" She exclaimed in Luganda, implying that there was no way he could have a girlfriend from this neighborhood.
"Bosco, you must be joking. There is no way you can have a girlfriend who lives in such a place. Impossible, impossible..." Monica became emotional in her argument.
"What if I have?" he asked her with a smile on his face.
"Impossible, even if you are handsome and are pleasant to the eyes of some sugar mummies. This place is too far off the scale of what you can attract. Just speak the truth and shame the devil. She must be living in the next neighborhood, but not this one." Monica was vehement in her rejection of the fact that this was the place.
She was not done, she added. "Over my dead body, there's no way your girlfriend is from this place. I stand by my word."
"Haha haha!" Bosco burst out in laughter.
"Come on, Monica. Why am I only pleasant to sugar mommies? Surely, I can also be pleasant to some rich young girls." He observed her as he said these words. She just jeered at him when she heard him say these words.
"Are you sure you want to know?" She asked him in a teasing tone.
"No, I am not…but Just say it," Bosco behaved as if he was not ready to hear the truth.
Monica turned her eyes from the view outside and looked at him before answering. "It is like this; rich girls like me." He almost laughed out loud when she referred to herself as a rich girl. "We appreciate handsome young men, but we are looking for something much deeper and intangible…" she paused mid-sentence to see if he was following.
"I am still listening, something deeper and intangible like what?" He wanted her to complete her statement; it had got him curious.
"Hhmmm…something deeper and intangible in terms of emotional intelligence, and with the ability to give us a secure, luxurious life. Pamper us like a princess, take us shopping and on vocations to exotic locations." She told him with a faraway look in her eyes.
"Monica, are you sure those are not your fantasies talking?" He wanted to hear her response.
"Not at all, I know what I am talking about." She answered him.
"Okay, but I can also do what you have said. I know emotional intelligence and can afford to take her to Zanzibar for a vacation." He told her.
"Don't make me laugh, you? No disrespect, but you are not only poor but also stingy. How many times have I asked you to take me out and you refused?" she reminded him.
It was a known fact to most of his classmates, that Bosco was only able to attend the prestigious EAMU university because of being on a federal scholarship. Most of his university requirements were provided for by the scholarship, and he was living in the much-despised university hostel room. Students with some financial capacity ran away from the hostel rooms by the end of their first year due to various factors. But mostly it had to do with the prestige of not being needy. While the majority of the students he had started within the first year had left the hostel, he continued staying there because it enabled him to save some good money. What others thought of him, was the least of his problems.
"I was not ready to spend on you because you are not my girlfriend. That does not make me stingy." He defended himself. "When it comes to my girlfriend, I spoil her like a princess."
Monica just jeered at him when she heard this. She had wanted to get close to Bosco but he had not given her a chance, so she concluded that he must be stingy. Never had it ever crossed her mind, that he was not into her. How can that be, there were tons of men in the university and outside who were after her. It never crossed her mind, that he was an exception. There was so much they had in common, this should be enough to make him pivot towards her.
Bosco saw that they were about to reach Agnes' place, and he wanted to sum up this conversation.
"Monica, let us do like this. We bet on something." He proposed a bet.
She closed her eyes as if in contemplation before saying. "Bosco, I am not a betting person but for today I will. I am willing to give you 100 WCs should you happen to have a rich girlfriend. But I highly doubt, so my dear. Prepare to give me 100 WCs from that money the Ministry is about to give to you." She stated her terms.
"No problem. I always keep my word; hope you will also do the same." He saw her nod her head in agreement.
"We are here. Driver, find parking over there." Bosco instructed the driver.
He paid the driver electronically, then they got out to pick up their luggage from the boot.
They were standing in the street outside a sleek high-rise glass apartment. It had twenty-five floors; its glassy exterior was reflecting the morning sunlight. There was a large golden sign on the third floor's exterior which read: COCONUT APARTMENTS.
Monica took a closer look at the building. Its glass exterior shimmered in the mid-morning sunlight, resembling a colossal crystal palace. Each pane mirrored the world around it. The sleek, modern design soared into the sky, an architectural marvel against the urban backdrop. She began having doubts about the validity of betting against Bosco. In her heart, she knew that only the rich resided in Coconut Apartments. However, it was not easy for her to accept that she was wrong; she had to prove it first.
"Please follow me," he told Monica as he picked up their luggage. He led the way into the building, they were to use the elevator to transport them to the 20th floor where Agnes resided.
He was very much looking forward to winning this bet. The prospect of winning 100 WCs minus breaking a sweat excited him.
Money did not grow on trees, so it was a joyous occasion when he scooped it up free of charge.