I have been in Zambia now for nearly a decade and have had the best time of my life. The people are what makes Zambia such a welcoming place. I have had an absolute blast and I have been lucky to share many of my life’s amazing and funny moments with you all through this column of mine. I would like to take this opportunity to wish everyone in this beautiful country a very happy independence period.

Recently I remembered something that had happened back in 2011. I received a random “hello” from a number I didn’t recognise but I decided to reply and see what happens. On the other line was a lady looking for someone to organise a birthday party for her son in the fourth grade. I am engaged in legitimate full time work not related to organising such events and I had no intention of putting together a party for this woman but I decided to have a bit of harmless fun. We discussed organising a bouncy castle (I had to Google what that is), music (the lady had no idea what a mixtape is) and getting a clown (she insisted on using the term “kid’s entertainer” as she somehow thinks clown is an offensive word). I am kind of a clown myself, I fool around a lot

Below is the rest of the conversation that took place between the lady and myself afterwards – Lady (LY), me (ME):

LY – I was wondering if there could be some storytelling or something along those lines.

ME – Absolutely, I am excellent at storytelling. I am very good at communicating and can surely take the kids on a graphic journey.

LY – It will be fantastic if the stories could be scary and spooky, I am sure the young children will love that.

ME – I have plenty of those.

LY – Can you name a couple of them that come to mind?

[I absolutely don’t know children’s stories. Back in 2011 I was kind of a child myself.]

ME – Recently I was in Kafue National Park.

LY – Oh, you mean a real-life story?

ME – You don’t want that?

LY – Not sure, but I would like to hear a bit of the story

ME – I was on a game drive and it was after sunset. We took a slight turn and suddenly the headlights came in focus of a leopard which was chasing an impala. My heart stopped. I rooted for team impala, but I was on the wrong team. The leopard caught up and sank its teeth into the neck of the impala, blood oozing out.

LY – You definitely didn’t get what kind of story I was looking for.

ME – Please let me finish. The impala squirmed and gave up, fell to the ground and turned from being alive to food. I had tears in my eyes and a heavy heart. Then out of the blue a full herd of impala came running towards the leopard. The leopard got totally spooked and ran away. Somehow the impala was still alive and all was well. I continued crying though; it was too many emotions simultaneously. I couldn’t handle it.

LY – Sorry, I don’t want to hear a story like this, let alone young children. It is too gory, what I meant by spooky was a story of werewolves or vampires, something mystical.

ME – I am sorry, you are happy for kids to think that werewolves and blood sucking vampires are ok, but not actually leopard of the Kafue, the same one who has to feed her children and only kills for survival?

LY – Enough, I don’t want you to be a part of my son’s birthday party.

ME – Is it because I expect kids to see and appreciate the real world around them? I agree the impala was saved but do you even know if the leopard cubs survived the hunger? Did they live to see the next day?

LY – ENOUGH! I don’t want to chat with you anymore, stop messaging me, bye!

ME – Shakira

LY – Sorry?

ME – Shakira was the name of the mother leopard who let her cubs down that night. Remember the name.

LY – I will report you to the police.

ME – Peace out.

Dooderonomy will resume later, until then goodbye.