In my high school,
being a female leader of a house automatically made you a mama of a house.
Therefore all the people in that house called you mama and of course my never
ending ego made me earn that title as well. Now you know why I could be walking
around town and I have age mates saying “hullo mama” to me. It is not because
of my body size but once a mama always a mama. The title clung on, when I
joined campus; I realized that female leaders of fellowships and other groups
are called mamas. This time round my ego behaved; am not a mama anywhere. So
assuming Kampala was a fellowship, someone would perfectly suit that title. My
guess is as good as yours; no mentioning names. We’ll simply call her “mama
Kampala”.
This lady is so
amazing. Ok, at times I wonder whether she has a particular kind of air she
breathes that is not oxygen.
First, it was the hounding
of all traders from the city. The reception of this initiative had mixed
feelings for most Ugandans as it did for me. I have my reasons; Once in a while
when I would miss fuss, the place to go was the old park. Apart from the fuss,
the drama those guys down town incorporated in their business was on another
level, the dancing and songs they sung for their customers was hilarious. A few
of those I can remember are, “those of Kyambogo don’t behave like those of
Makerere who just came and checked on the clothes, bargained and went.” Then
the other one I remember is, “come buy these clothes so that your boss can increase
your salary, since he will notice that you spend it out rightly buying nice
clothes.”
The other thing that made my day in a congested
city was watching smart ladies in 6-inch heels tussling their way down to their
respective taxi parks. The roads and verandas I guess cried ‘Muyambe’ at that tough
time as they could not accommodate the number of people, vendors and cars which
were leaving work especially after 5pm. As if that was not enough, the drama of
thieves snatching people’s bags was sad too. Well as I loved it that way, the
space was necessary. If mama Kampala was thinking of anyone when she chased the
traders out, it was you corporate woman.
Watching the traders’
selling tables being wrecked while they watched was a sad experience especially
for me and my other friends but any way, they had to go. The only thought that
came to my mind was, “papa Kampala” had promised to protect those traders, aah
but the story is ever unending. Who knows, maybe that is why the lad never
stops fighting her.
So the latest war
mama Kampala has instigated is that of complexes, arcades, shopping malls,
office buildings and all that crap, she is tired of seeing them. You all know
what she means when she is tired. It means sitting down and locating those
buildings in terms of plots and streets where they are found and then send the
culprits’ list to New Vision, Monitor, Observer or whatever. You choose where
you want to find the list. The challenge is, some people do not even know where
their buildings are located and it seems she is not in the mood of listing
names here. The amazing or shocking thing in this whole story is that even one
of the latest buildings in her compound; I mean this one opposite city square
and adjacent of pioneer mall is on the list. To me it sounds like sheer luck or
madness of some sort. But since I only have the pen and paper and not the power
who am I to reject her proposal. So I don’t know whether the buildings thing is
going to happen like the traders’ thing where they will be vandalized at night
when we are way far in dreamland or something different will be done. I am
watching.
How I pray that one time mama Kampala wakes up
with the gusto to see a clean city without fail, to begin with, the parks. That
she will wake up one day and demand that all those roads and city trenches be
cleaned up and roads lit up during the night. I pray for her to appreciate that
Rome was not built in one day. The buildings in Kampala two decades back were
worse than what we have now. This should be symbol enough to have her slow down
a little. If all those buildings are slashed with in a blink of an eye, will
all those offices and arcades go and operate in her house?
I may understand the
need for us to have new buildings in Kampala but what I have not clearly
understood is how this shift is going to happen. I assume that even while we
find our lovers, we set standards but sometimes compromise is handy. Compromise requires weighing what you have on
your standard scale and one who suits at least half of those standards is good
to go. Heee! Where are you going to find a man who is tall, dark, handsome, God
fearing, financially stable, caring, good background, etc That aside, those
city roads will not allow a pregnant woman to go for induced labor in the hospital.
No! A ride around the city on a reasonable speed may let her experience her
rush of happiness. I pray that first things come first. I love you mama Kampala
don’t forget to pass my regards to papa Kampala as well.
