Today marks one year after we reported about a Sauna in Nateete that understands wickedness better than a gay bar in downtown Bangkok. After that exposé, its notoriety became even more widespread due to the fact that the story went viral on social media.
More men went seeking it out. It is true what they say, the human heart is desperately wicked. More media reports came out and some clever people even recorded and shared videos of the dark goings on inside, making the place even more notorious.
Over the last one year, the sensational tales about the place have become much more pronounced and as expected, hoards of men have flocked the place. The owner, an unassuming middle-aged man, smiled to the bank and being the astute businessman that he is, decided to expand the premises to include an extra bar on top of the two existing ones, an indoor swimming pool and a bigger stage.
As you may have noticed the place is much bigger than a sauna. It is a bunch of entertainment facilities that feed into each other seamlessly. Today, let us stick to the bar.
While all the furniture in the bar is pointed at the stage in question, it is not for music shows or drama skits. No quiz master stands on it once a week to challenge the patrons in a war of brains. It is not even a stage for pole dancing, at least not in the classic sense of the word, if you know what I mean.
It is a cushioned platform where live adult content is created for the benefit of dazed men larking in the shadows. It is a special kind of participatory theatre. Patrons are encouraged by the MC to get up, move to the stage and prove a point.
Only a few daring young men get to take up the challenge. The rest stay back, pretending to dance to the music, acting as if they are here just for the beer and the music. But they are here for the main act up on the platform.
That is what they paid for. At least most of them. Those that are here for the first time, cannot believe what they are seeing. Nothing prepared them for the liberality of depravity in this place. As expected, the brain shuts down and the gonads take over. You know you do not want to stay here, but you cannot make the hard decision to leave.
The whole dance floor is populated by dainty women in bikinis. Hundreds of them. They are dancing seductively, waiting for you to say the magic words. They live here. Each of them has a bedroom in Best Hotel, the mother ship for this party factory. Everything about the goings on here show that this is no ordinary bar, and no unwitting human should find themselves here.
Call this whatever you want, but when all is said and done, it is Kampala’s first red-light district. It has been born and is currently growing very well. There is no turning back from this. Forget the fact that suggestions to create a red light district were thwarted by Parliament some years ago. It is alive and well, and it is in Nateete.
Maybe it is true what they say. You cannot fight an idea whose time has come. Maybe a time for a red-light district has come. Kill not the messenger, I did not create this monster. We just need to get our heads out of the sand, acknowledge it is here, gazette it and regulate it.
We said it last year and we will say again here, this is irregular. A place like this should be clearly marked and gazetted as such, so that no one innocently comes to grab a cold one only to be met with temptations beyond their ability to exercise restraint.
The things that happen in this bar cannot happen in any other bar anywhere in the country. Which makes most people suspect that the bar belongs to a connected person. But having met the owner, a gentle giant in his late 50s, I believe it is his street smarts, disarming humility and cunning that make it possible for him to run these shenanigans without a poke from police. He just knows which wheels to grease.
