Of downtown, Entebbe traffic police and UG-Kenya marriage

Downtown Kampala proper starts from Mutaasa-Kafeero Plaza. If you are on Luwum Street or William Street, you are not yet downtown, you are just at the border. Even Mega Standard Supermarket does not qualify as downtown, you must cross into the old taxi park. That is why at the border of Kampala Upper and Downtown, you will find people selling ‘change’. Those brand new notes you have seen, they are to prepare you for a journey downtown.

There are some rules about downtown. Never appear so uptown for downtown. Otherwise downtown will school you in the art of downtown. Get some dirty shoes at least, get some faded jeans, or show up with a wrinkled shirt. At worst, have some head gear. Do not accessorise while going downtown. I repeat, do not accessorise, unless you are wearing some funny shirt with the photo of the ‘mubanda’, then you can take that risk.

Finally, once inside downtown, act downtown. Speak the language of downtown. And if at any one point, you get lost while downtown, never show it. If you enter the wrong plaza, find a route into the next plaza. Do not ask for directions while downtown. Just trust the spirits. You rather walk for an hour than ask for directions. In downtown, we assume everyone knows what they are doing. If you get lost downtown, branch off and try to bargain for stuff at a shop near you. Use that to get your bearings. It helps if you have that ‘ka-torch phone’, you know the phone that Ugandans use for banging deals. If you see someone with that ka phone, know for sure, that their money speaks all kinds of languages. Next time you are in downtown, carry such a ka phone and when you are lost, fake a phone call conversation. Pretend you are speaking to Mutyaba and shout out loud; ‘Gwe Mutyaba tokutula, wesulisse.’

Now downtown also has levels. That stretch from Mutaasa Kafeero to Gazaland is the VIP of downtown. There is still a chance to be redeemed while here. If you are a lady, prepare to be pulled at Gazaland, prepare for some review of your hair. Because Gazaland is the heart of fashion trends in Uganda. It is here that artificial body parts were created. It is here that all mothers of weaves and wigs are stored. It is here that the kizigo is also mixed.

The moment you cross from Gazaland, the moment you spot that police post at the entrance of the taxi park, then you can be sure, you have entered the ki-Russia of downtown. Once again, do not show signs of being a ‘mungere’. If you show those signs, you will learn the meaning of the word.

Now, my journey last week led me into the ki-Russia of downtown to be specific- Nabukeera Plaza. You know the heart of Ugandan trade is with all those plazas that are lined up adjacent to the New Taxi Park. They link into Kikuubo and somewhere, they also link into Arua Park. That is the heart of Kampala’s money. When your boyfriend tells you he is going to ‘kibuuga’, this is the real ‘kibuga Kampala’. The uptown of Kampala is for other things, it is for things such as waiting for LPOs, for organising meetings in Serena, tweeting gibberish and playing the ‘corporate lie’.

From downtown, I crossed into Entebbe. I have a bone to pick with Entebbe traffic police. They choose to hide in funny spots, and they have their own rule book. And one other problem, no matter what you do, Entebbe traffic police will never print out a ticket on the spot. There is always something wrong with their ticket printer, something wrong with their pen. And above all, they always insist one gets out of the car. Last weekend was no different. There are those traffic lights next to Hill Road in Entebbe; that is one of the spots they love. For some reason, the guy ahead came to an abrupt stop, forcing me to decide – whether to stop in the island or beat the lights (the wise defensive choice). The Entebbe afandes were enchanted, they had grabbed their game. All attempts to argue out the case did not make sense to them. “If you do not agree, let us drive we go you see footage at the police station.” I thus pleaded for my ticket since my argument was falling on deaf ears. No ticket was issued. “You go, you will come back for your ticket.” I pleaded: “Afande, give me my ticket”. The afandes disagreed. They insisted: “Go, you will pick it on your way back.”

Away from the Entebbe afandes, have you people realised that if Uganda and Kenya got married, we would solve many of our problems. For example, Kenya would focus on goat nyama choma while Uganda would focus on the ka animal. Then we can pass a law, Ugandan men for Kenyan women, Kenyan women for Ugandan men. And we would live happily ever after. Or are my ideas being clouded by the last trip I made to the Roadhouse goat spot in Hurlingham.

 Twitter: ortegatalks