Posts Tagged ‘ Uganda

Breaking (and entering) News!

A young woman identified only as Mama Deborah has stepped forward and added her two cents to the Gay Pastor saga. After it was revealed that Kayanja paid his alleged victim shs.2m, Deborah said she would have let him take her using whichever point of entry he desired and she would have charged less. “The thing is that man likes very classy things. Now you see, those classy things have costed (sic) him very dearly. If he had come to me, I would have been for discount and what’s more, me I would have kept my lips sealed.”

Asked why she has decided to come forward with this offer, she denies allegations that she is a prostitute looking to make a quick buck, “I am not a Malaya! I just like money a lot and I like sex! This news is an eye opener. I am not an opportunist, but rather, an entrepreneur. I saw an opening and I thought I could use it.”

A gentleman that was on the scene had this to say after her remarks, “That’s what he said!” When asked to explain in detail, he said that unlike the pastor, he did not want to get into these things. He proceeded to give a nearby onlooker a high-five and they laughed at what this reporter suspects is what is commonly referred to as a ‘private joke’.

Mama Deborah said she is using this forum as an attempt to let the good pastor know that she is keeping her door open.

The Pastor  could not be reached for comments, but a source close to him said he assumed that he may seize the opportunity to avoid the dock.

In other news, one of the other victims has withdrawn his accusation.

Reports suggest that he was informed that some high ranking members of the police task force are homosexuals as well and would leap at opportunity lest it presented itself.

Asked whether these allegations were true, an officer who spoke on condition of anonymity said, “I cannot get into that shit”.

Welcome To Uganda.

Welcome to Uganda. It’s a tiny little country in the Eastern bit of Africa. Almost everyone that comes here falls in love with the place. To date, the only person that is not too crazy about this place is John Amos. Remember him? He is the dude that starred in Roots as Kunta Kinte. It was a nice movie, but when he got back to his roots. John Amos figured, screw this shit and left. Not cool.

Our people are a friendly bunch and are exceedingly interested in your feeding habits. All too often, one of us will be heard asking, “what is your favourite food so far?”. This is a harmless question. We will not hate tourists if they respond with an answer that is not matooke. Sure, it is way easy to pronounce (mah-toe-kay), but it is all lumpy and it is all yellow. Scientists have suggested that the bulk of Matooke is actually water. Scientists are dumb.

Ugandans are not dumb and they will always find a way of showing it. For instance, the Ugandan Boda Boda guys are always trying to redefine negotiations. A typical boda boda conversation will run thus; (subtitles provided)
He: boss, let’s go
You: how much?
He: How much do you want to give me?
You: *silently* I don’t want to give you anything. *loudly* My fare is usually four thousand shillings
He: *silently* LMAO. *loudly* you give me six thousand.
You: *silently* screw you! *loudly* its okay. I will find someone else
He: *silently* oh shit! *loudly* okay, give me five thousand
You: *loudly* I usually pay four thousand

The boda guy will give in. But, at the end of the journey, he will shy away from the money and you will practically beg him to take his money.

While we are still on the subject, just because he has red/brown eyes, it doesn’t mean he is drunk. And the smell of cheap liquor emanating from his sweat/ tears should not sway you. In fact, I find that this particular brand of rider is more reliable. It is very likely he figures he needs to drop you off, get paid and then continue with his activities

The average Ugandan is fascinated by all things foreign. No one knows why this is, but no one has really bothered to conduct any research.

We are also haters. We will rubbish someone for the smallest thing.

“That guy feels like he is the shit, but he is not. See him. Wearing CNN jeans. I bet they are not even his”

We are possessive. We like to attach the word ,’my’ to titles of respect and reverence. Studies conducted point to the expressions,’ my boss’ and ‘my man’

I’m sleepy, I’ll finish this later.

Not a snob…as such

I am not a snob. Seriously. I just like to think that certain things are beneath me. The problem is, I have the number one sign that someone maybe a snob. I am too bloody quick to defend myself and attempt to link myself to a certain class/group of individuals.

You know that thing where someone brands you a snob and you say, “I am not a snob! I even hang out with. . .”
Yeah, that confirms that you are one. That said, here are a few snobbish traits I have managed to pick up and some pretty lame attempts to justify them. Feel free to add yours.

“EATING JOINTS”

I eat “Rolex”. Shit, the combination of Chapati and Egg and “accompaniments” (****! That word actually exists?!) is to die for. It’s such a shame they couldn’t come up with a decent name for it. So yeah, I like to eat the damn thing. An urban legend suggests that rolex postpones hangovers. They will come, but they will come late! Thing is, I can’t bring myself to buy one from anywhere but Wandegeya.

Defense: Rolex originated from Wandegeya, according to our forefathers. You can’t expect imitators to reproduce the product efficiently.  Any Rolex from anywhere else is a knock off.

SELECTIVE EATING 2.0
Burgers and Pizzas should not be bought from a place that boasts a clientele of three. That is to say, if it is not Dominos, Nandos, Steers or even Antonios, they should be handled with caution and the sort of delicacy usually reserved for transporting landmines. Places that are overly eager to display their capacity to preapare “special meals should not be trusted. That’s to say, any place that is named thus; BURGER DEALERS, PIZZA SUPREME MAKERS or even CYBER PIZZA AND BURGERS DOT COM should be avoided at all costs.

Defense 2.0: Which sorta doubles as a confession. Some new outdoor food vending thing opened up in an area close to where I live and I thought I’d give it a shot. Never mind that it was next to a brothel, or that the guy selling stuuf had the marketing skill of brick. I figured I’d try out their burgers. If they were any good, I’d be visiting this place on my way home and I’d be able to do away with that silly “I Feel Like Chicken Tonight” place in Kabalagala. BIG MISTAKE. The burger I bought did not have CHEESE, as I’d been led to believe by the brick behind the counter, but had a friggin fried egg in there. WTF?? What sort of self respecting burger has eggs on the slab of meat?

BODA BODA RIDERS

I’ve gone on and on about this, one of the most convenient means of transport today, what I may have forgotten is this. Whenever I can, I have earphones nestled in my (where else) ears. From time to time, the other end may be attached to anything ranging from a media player to my wallet. Its not because I suffer an affliction that requires constant in-ear stimulation, but rather so I don’t have to be engaged in discourse with the guy steering us through traffic.

Defense: Boda guys seldom speak in a language you understand. When they do, I try to listen, but I can make out very little from what the wind lets me pick up. A typical Boda conversation will run thus;

He: Kati ***** naye ***** imagine ***** (laughter) ***** don’t you see ***** fish ***** dame
The  ” * ” standing in for words the wind has maliciously carried away and I have, consequently, failed to pick up. If I forgot to carry my earphones I simply smile when I think I am supposed to, jeer occasionally and shake my head in sorrow.


OCCUPANTS OF WAITING AREAS

These range from those at the clinic to the waiting area at a company you’re looking to join and are thus awaiting someone to come over and beckon you to some conference area for your interview. Standard behavior is to wait and keep quiet. Do not feel the need to engage in conversation with other occupants of the area. In as much as it may make the wait seem shorter, more often than not it will not yield positive results. If there’s a newspaper nearby I tend to read that. If I’ve got credit, I send messages or surf the net. Engaging in a conversation is a last resort and one you should turn to if you absolutely must stay awake.

Defense: Without planning it, if you get the job and the other occupant of the waiting area doesn’t, you will come off looking like a dick. An arrogant, self righteous prick and he or she will not have any problem with “accidentally” pouring stuff on you the next time you run into each other.
Defense 2.0: If you happen to be in a clinic, that interaction does not do any one of you any good when either one of you hears the other being asked to present the “stool sample” the doctor asked for. You will never recover from this, so you’re better off reading the text you received telling you to text the word, “ACNE” to ****

WAITERS AND WAITRESSES…and BARTENDERS

Once in a while, one or two prove that they are different and as such I should have no qualms about interacting with them. Please note, I said one or two. Usually the third or fourth  will make you regret the whole experience.

Defense: When you display a show of camaraderie with waiters and waitresses, more often than not they will figure that they are above being tipped and will likely keep your “change”. It’s happened to me a couple of times. And when I asked for it, it’s like I had cracked the world’s funniest joke (yes, Baz, even funnier than that Obama +Black House thing of yours). The times I have displayed an “I left my friends on FACEBOOK” attitude, I have been successful in getting my “balance” back with considerably less issues… granted, there is the possibility that my food may have been forced to accommodate someone’s spittle, but….

STRANGERS IN TAXIS

I try to avoid engaging in conversations with these people (that actually does sound snobbish) because of two experiences…

Experience 01: This one time I was trying to sell of my phone, I bumped into a guy that expressed interest in it…and at a price higher than I expected. Naturally, I felt obliged to “conversate” with him till I got to my destination and exchanged numbers with him. I was young, I didn’t know any better. I was also quite desperate. It didn’t seem like such a bad thing…until the texts started to come in.

“Sweetheart. I think we should meet and talk. It was nice meeting you”
“Darling, I am serious about the phone, I just want to know you better”
“Dear, I just want to be your friend, where can we meet?”

Experience 02: Everyone has gone through the communal newspaper experience, so I won’t even go there.

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