Prime
The devil in Kampala wears lugabire
What you need to know:
But the devil in Kampala has no money...
Ugandan men: A story goes that men are happy when they are providing. But not for Ugandan men these days, who have turned against the things that excited their grandfathers. Now, the men must be pushed to send transport money.
But who raised these men? Is it the potholes to blame? Is it the Kampala rain? Or is it the devil? And speaking of the devil in Kampala, who has seen him? He seems to be the problem. Everyone is blaming the devil. Who is this devil that never dies? We grew up in the 90s casting out the devil. Here we are 30 years later, and the devil has refused to bulge a bit. But I suspect there is something wrong with the Kampala devil. He does not wear Prada like the devils elsewhere. Our Kampala devil wears lugabire, those beaten rubber sandals. In brief, the devil in Kampala is a broken masquerade. He is the reason, ours is a ‘gavumenti’ not a ‘government’. You will learn that there is a difference between government and ‘gavumenti’ when you interact with Kampala and Uganda.
For example, what could explain the fact that the army stationed in Naalya does rounds at 7pm and the thieves do their rounds at 3am? What explains the fact that thieves will return to the same vicinity in a space of two weeks? It is true indeed, the ‘gavumenti’ is working as it should.
You see the devil in Kampala has no money to give, other than stories. And that devil lives in everyone that resides, works, has ever entered Kampala. The devil in Kampala lacks sophistication. Whereas the devil in other cities tempts men with high offers, the devil in Kampala lacks a strong offer. Again, he is a man of stories. And speaking of stories, everyone in Kampala has a story.
Even the President has a story. In Kampala, everyone claims to be better than average. You just must find someone to blame, a scapegoat. If you have a scapegoat in Kampala, you exempt yourself from all blame. But shouldn’t we all take blame for mediocrity? Because who is in Kampala? Isn’t it all of us? But then, even the President after 30 years cannot take blame. He claims to be a prisoner. We need to free the man in a hat. Has he even returned from the festivities with Mama? I guess the mafias have rounded him up. Make some noise, people. Make some noise and save our grandfather.
So have I also told you that last week I found myself somewhere in Kanairo. And above all, nowhere else but in Milan. Milan is special. It is only in Milan where the women outnumber the men. If you have been to Kanairo without entering Milan, then you will miss something about Kanairo. Because in Milan, the ladies indeed look like they just landed from Milan. Until you soon find out that it could be the Milan of Kileleshwa or the Milan of Rongai. But then what has happened to the colours? Who knew there would come a point where you would know your friends in two versions. You know the lighter version, but then you knew the darker version?
Speaking of life in Kampala. I hear the Busoga Kingdom now has an Inebantu. As a result, this has exerted extra pressure on yours truly. Since I fall in the lineage of royals, I have been asked to pronounce myself on the big question. When? Who? Of late, my friends think that I lack the words and the style to make the moves. Every week, I am being sent on dates. My pleas of saying; ‘I am still young’ have fallen on deaf ears. What in the world don’t people understand about the struggle? Tuli mu struggle. Why should we get married before the struggle ends? The streets could be cold but at least there is a semblance of freedom on the streets. Or is it that married people do not want to struggle alone in their ‘prisons’? Anyway, when the time is right, we shall join the institution. At least let us get done with some famous man, aka Miti. We hear this should be the wedding of the year. The one and only Miti and Naki. Mbu you miss this one at your own risk.
And while I was away in Kanairo, I came to learn that MC Kats had met with the Alien. The Alien carried him up in the air and a Kats became a Kite. But this Alien is confusing the world. It could be another trumpet. Like that trumpet of tribalism. Does it mean one now cannot identify with their tribe anymore? Shouldn’t one celebrate their culture?
Now that I am back to Kampala, we need to work on first things first. The Uganda boyfriends Association needs to call an urgent meeting to identify key concerns from the girlfriend association. We need to adjust transport money to match the inflationary changes. But then, we must also discuss the colour changes… Why is everyone changing colour?
Twitter: ortegatalks
