Satire: Court thwarts Seaman’s trip to Zimbabwe to engage in ‘cryptoe’ trade
Martha, a social media addict with a gleaming forward, has been asking what those are supposedly paying insane dollars for a toe in Uncle Bob’s Zimbabwe are doing with the digits. Curiosity hit the better of me here.
While showing off our mathematical geniuses in omweso game, someone broached the matter. There were nine of us here but none could offer any plausible reason. But two guys – let’s call them Baz and Ben – agreed that they did not need to know why.
“With $78,000, I think I can buy River Nile and control all the activities on that water,” Baz announced, then noticing bewildered looks in us, added: “You don’t get it? If I exchange that to our Mazike, it can buy a hundred of that Benz the Speaker is clamouring for.”
Ben was the only one who agreed with Baz.
“That’s a lot of money, enough to buy off the Madhvanis and take over all their businesses and planes and even make Sudhir your ‘boyi choo,’” Ben said, sending many white teeth flashing as laughter filled the shade of mango tree where the board game was being played from.
After several minutes of jokes around what one of the guys had decided to call “cryptoe” business because “it pays better than this other crypto,” I announced that I would be making my pilgrimage to Harare.
But I had no money, I added.
“You don’t need money when you’re going to get money,” said an old man.
“Use the martyrs pilgrims tricks. They walk from all corners of the country in return for transport back home knowing they can save up on it. Just walk, Zimbabwe is just down here after Tanzania.”
But I protested. I said I was entering a cryptoe trade and the buyer would definitely need a good toe, not one with sores, moreover inflated with fatigue. I added that I was expecting some ka-money and that if it came through, I would have enough for air ticket to Zim.
And that is when it happened.
“You’re taking mine along, the right one, it’s spotless – no scar,” declared Baz.
“Mine too. I’ll put it in ice so that it gets there when still fresh even if you travel by road,” added Ben.
As I was still trying to process this, they suggested I stay in Harare and be their middleman as they would be getting many toes from folks in Busoga and sending for the cryptoe trade.
“Half for half,” said Baz. “We get the full amount from Zim, pay the toe owners half and keep the rest. Just two transactions and we will have enough dollars to buy Bank of Uganda.”
The thing is, to many folks, the idea of a dollar is appealingly crispy. It is possible to take a peasant’s Shs1m and give them two $100 bills and they would be happier than Zaake whenever he sees Among approaching.
By morning, I was up preparing for the trip to Zim. I swear this is a true story. A quick Google search revealed that the toes would be used as fetishes in ritual sacrifice. But then another site popped up in my search.
David Kaseke, a 40-year-old mobile phone dealer in Harare, had been charged with criminal nuisance over the viral cryptoe trade stuff.
The story added that Kaseke, whose name is close to laughter in languages we all know, had claimed to have only done so as a joke while blazed up with crude waragi.
I sent a message to Baz and Ben asking if they had already cut off their toes and iced it. They hadn’t.
Someone make this cryptoe joke real; we could do with the dollars.
I was really close to some good money!
