I have discovered where I want to hang out on the 23rd of each month. You know, that time of the month when every day is just a day that brings you closer to pay day!
I was in a somewhat dubious part of Kampala (allow me to keep this secret to myself!), waiting to meet a dubious person. I decided to enter a bar.
For a Kafunda, these guys took their security seriously. The female guard almost lost her arms inside my bag as she rummaged through. I thought about protesting but when I looked at the place again, and the look of the people inside, I decided anonymity would be best.
I entered through and headed to the bar. Drunkards were sprawled across it, and one kept trying to fondle me as I spoke with the waitress.
“How much is your Guinness?” I asked, my hands brushing away the straying hands of the drunkard.
“Shs3,500,” she said. I paused for a second.
“Eh?” I tried not to sound excited. “Shs3,500, eh?”
“Yes,” she said impatiently.
Where have you been all my life, you dubious bar?!
My drunkard friend had gotten tired and gone back to sleep. I sat in a corner and waited for the dubious person. For a good hour and a half. Many a woman would have been annoyed no end, and walked out in a huff. Not me.
I was simply amazed that I had sat in that bar, alone, for that long and not one single person had bothered me. I couldn’t help but think about how a lone woman is regarded sitting alone in an ‘elite’ drinking establishment. You’re likely to be regarded with pity, suspicion and judgment. Here?
I saw at least three other women, sitting at tables alone, having a high old time. I sat alone, and enjoyed sitting alone, once I realised that in this dubious bar-the kind women like me sneer at on the outside—I was not going to be disturbed on the inside.
Makes you think, doesn’t it?