Last month my wife and I went to Kenya for a bit of a break. I've been away for quite a while so the trip brought back some fond memories.
During the course of our travels we passed through a number of villages; on one particular occasion we noticed that a large crowd had gathered so we pulled over to find out what was happening.
A villager informed us that the Mwganga (witchdoctor) was paying a visit and that people had come from afar to consult him. Apparently people use the local witchdoctor for all sorts of reasons; boosting fertility, increasing wealth, curing all manner of diseases. There is, it appears, no limit to his powers.
"Does he know anything about the pub trade?" I asked my wife.
"We can find out if you want" she replied. She informed the villager that we wished to attend the gathering and was assured that we would be welcomed with open arms.
I parked the car and we were taken to the meet the Mwganga. He was an elderly gentleman man clad in a lion skin with an impressive headdress, made from what appeared to be ostrich feathers. He looked at us for what seemed an eternity; eventually he asked my wife what we required from him.
My wife explained that we ran a pub in the UK and were in desperate need of help. After a brief discussion my wife turned to me and said that in order to help us the witchdoctor required a symbol of our profession; "there's a Carling glass in the car," I said to my wife "would that do?"
My wife asked me to get it; upon my return I handed it over to the Mwganga. He placed it on the ground, then removed some old bones from a pouch and placed them carefully into the glass.
He mumbled a few words before thrusting the glass upwards violently so that the bones sailed into the air before landing on the dusty ground in front of him. The old man then proceeded to study them for several minutes before closing his eyes and going into a trance.
"Can you ask him about the prospects of us going FOT?" I whispered to my wife.
"Sshhh... you're not allowed to say anything" she replied.
The witchdoctor eventually spoke briefly to my wife before handing over a small bottle which we were assured contained a special potion.
My wife later explained that if we were able to make "our enemies" drink the potion willingly they would give us anything we wanted. We thanked the witchdoctor for his help said our farewells and returned to the car.
"It's just a load of old mumbo jumbo" I said, as we continued our journey.
"Dismiss it at your peril" my wife retorted. "Why not try it; you've got nothing to lose, have you?"
I thought little more of it and focused on enjoying the rest of the vacation. Indeed, upon our return to the UK I gave the incident little thought until my wife, during the course of unpacking, found the bottles at the bottom of the suitcase.
I picked one up and scrutinised it more closely. It certainly looked innocuous enough; surely it couldn't work, could it? I dismissed the idea as superstitious nonsense and put the bottles in a kitchen drawer.
3 weeks later
My BDM rang me, said we needed to meet. Negotiations over my new deal had been going on for some time and his tone gave me little cause for optimism, in truth it sounded highly uncompromising. We arranged to meet the following day.
"Juan's coming around tomorrow" I said to my wife.
"Are you going to use the potion?" she asked.
"What potion?" I said genuinely puzzled.
"The one the witchdoctor gave you" she replied.
"Oh that!" I retorted dismissively. "I don't think so somehow."
"OK" she said.
The next morning Juan arrived and it was clear from the outset that my earlier fears were well founded. Juan was being particularly hardnosed, in no mood to give ground.
Suddenly I had an idea. "Cup of tea Juan?"
"Please" he replied.
I popped into the kitchen to put the kettle on and look for the potion; this was going to be a long shot but it was clearly my last chance to retrieve something from this meeting.
The witchdoctor had said that the potion would work very quickly. Then a thought occurred to me. The witchdoctor hadn't told me how much to use. How much should I put in? Was it harmful? What would happen if I gave Juan too big a dosage?
I was faced with a dilemma. I had to weigh up Juan's welfare against my own selfish commercial interests. I paused briefly, weighing up the possible consequences of my actions, before pouring the entire contents of the bottle into my BDM's cup.
"There you go Juan" I said, handing him his mug.
"Thanks" he said.
We then sat for several minutes enjoying our tea and saying little. Eventually I concluded that the potion must have had time to take effect; time to put it to the test.
"Any chance of some Carling glasses?" I asked.
"Sure" Juan replied, "how many do you need?"
"A couple of boxes should do me" I replied.
"No problem Bob, no problem at all. We're here to help."
Mmm... that seemed to go OK. It can't be the potion though, can it? Let's try something else.
"I'm unhappy with the RPI link to my rent."
"Why?" asked Juan.
"You've got to admit it's a bit of a con" I replied. "It's basically a stealth tax, isn't it?"
"I can't argue with you there Bob."
"And why RPI anyway", I persisted, "why not CPI?"
"RPI's always higher; gives us more profit, doesn't it?"
"You can say that again" I responded, "it's currently running at 4.8%; that's no small rental increase in one year."
"You're right again Bob; so what do you want?"
"I want to you to sever the link between rent and RPI."
"No problem Bob, consider it done. Anything else?"
My belief in the potion was growing; I became bolder. "I want guest ale provision reinstated."
"What for?" Juan enquired.
"To help address my falling margin" I responded. "Do you know how much I'm currently paying for a 22 of Carling?"
"I don't off hand" replied Juan.
"Two hundred and seventy one pounds and 26 pence" I said.
"That's a tidy sum" Juan mused.
"Tidy!" l said in a somewhat animated tone "Tidy! Not quite the word I'd use Juan. Extortionate or exorbitant would be more appropriate, don't you think? Do you have any idea how much I need to sell a pint for to make a decent margin?"
"I can't dispute what you're saying Bob. I tell you what; I'll let you have guest ale provision as well, how's that?"
By now my belief in the witchdoctor's brew was absolute. It appeared that whilst Juan was under the influence of the potion anything was possible.
My primary concern now was how long the effects of the potion would last. His response to my next question confirmed my fears.
"Juan, I want to move the discussions on to discuss rent."
"That's not up for discussion" he replied firmly. "It's non-negotiable."
It was clear that the effects of the potion were wearing off. (I was not unduly concerned; the witchdoctor had given me several bottles).
"Err.......more tea Juan?"
"That would be lovely thank you."
Whilst in the kitchen making a fresh pot of tea I reflected how foolish I'd been to dismiss the power of the witchdoctor. It was clear that this potion had powers I could not begin to comprehend.
I carried the tray of tea back into the living room and poured my BDM a fresh cup; after taking several gulps Juan spoke.
"Ahh....now then," he said, "where were we? Oh yes your rent. What sort of a reduction were you looking for then Bob?"
"I'm glad you brought that up Juan. Err.....more tea?"
If any of you wish to try out this potion on your BDM drop me an e-mail and I'll happily send you a couple of bottles.
(Editor's note: The Publican takes no responsibility whatsoever for any claims made regarding the effectiveness of this particular potion)