Patrons enjoy Mukomboti at Anyaka’s pub. PHOTO/TONY MUSHOBOROZ
To get to this kafunda, you have to park in front of a hostel at the main road, walk through a narrow dark alley into a backwater slum at the back, far away from the shops, hostels and the main road.
The front door opens into the narrow alley such that if you stepped out without being careful, you would knock heads with a passerby.
There is a cheap alcoholic beverage called mukomboti. If you don't know it, ask your cousin at uni, because university students love it and for good reason. It is this thick, delicious porridge that fills you up and gives you a buzz at the same time. You defend while scoring. That to a student is killing two birds with one stone.
You have Shs2,000 to cater for you food and drink of the day? No problem. You just go drink mukomboti and go home drunk and full at the same time. The buzz makes you sleep like a baby, ready to fight new hunger pangs the next day. And since university students are more often broke than not, they love to gravitate to this drink so much. And while all university students love mukomboti, no one loves it more than Kyambogo University students.
Banda and all the neighbourhoods surrounding Kyambogo University are inundated with kafundas who’s main attraction is mukomboti. While it is alcoholic, it also tastes like breakfast porridge. Probably because it is made out of millet and maize flour. A pint of mukomboti goes for Shs1000, so pretty much anyone can afford it. All these factors contribute to its popularity among students.
I did not believe the stories until I visited the most well-known mukomboti pub in Banda. As expected, the pub has no name. Because real kafundas never have official names. Everyone calls it Anyaka’s place. It is a small hall for lack of a better expression. It is the size of four regular duukas combined, with a low ceiling. Sitting inside, you can tell she started small and over the years expanded by breaking down walls of surrounding shops to create this large space.
To get to this kafunda, you have to park in front of a hostel at the main road, walk through a narrow dark alley into a backwater slum at the back, far away from the shops and the hostels and the main road. The front door opens into the narrow alley such that if you stepped out without being careful, you’d knock heads with a passer-by.
Upon entry, one can see people seated on wooden benches and plastic chairs, each with a disposable tumbler filled with the thick whitish drink. Music is blaring from one corner as Anyaka, the owner of the kafunda, goes about with a plastic jerry can serving her customers. Young people sit in groups engaging in all manner of conversation, while others stand around the pool table playing. Anyaka greets everyone like they are her favourite person, including me, a stranger who is here for the first time. This lady makes humanity look so good.
Special day
On the day that I ended up at Anyaka’s place (February 1), the bar owner, an all-round nice lady only known by her Anyaka nickname, was celebrating her 50th birthday. This, she said, was first time she ever celebrated a birthday. So it was a big deal for her. She had decided to surprise all her customers with free mukomboti and pilau.
Everything was on the house. Now either she is extremely well to do or she is simply such a nice lady. My guess is she is just a sweet human being. Because that was the first time I ever saw this. Anyaka had decided to give back to the people who had supported her for the last 14 years.
As I sat there watching her engaging with her young customers, seeing how she loved them like her own, seeing how they loved her and revered her, I realised God uses us from wherever we are.
She radiated with motherly love that some of these students need to make it through the hell that university can be for some people. I found myself falling in love with humanity all over again. I could tell that I was experiencing real human connection. Real love.
Students who she has been mothering in her own way for years stood up to thank her. They love her with the kind of love you love your mother with. Or your favourite aunt. Many praised her for teaching them restraint. Everyone praised her for being a nice human being. And after taking a nice group picture with her, she offered a beer to each of them. It was hard to believe they are not her real children.
When she spoke, she told the boys to get off her workers. “I don't sell girls here. Come with your own girl, enjoy and go. Don't touch my workers. That is why I never allow them outside the counter,” she said sternly before urging them to always pray. “God should come first. This is why I always close the bar on Sunday morning to go to church.”
You see, this is why the kafunda beats any other pub. You just get a personal touch. And Anyaka’s place may be the best thing that happened in the slums of Banda.
