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K’la needs more of us on the night shift
What you need to know:
Kampala has so many nowhere people. Relationships that are going nowhere. Businesses that are going nowhere. Careers that are going nowhere. Roads that lead nowhere. Just many nowhere. Well, life is also a big nowhere
Life as I know it now, is a continuous series of meetings and partings. You gain some things, you lose others. You wake up, you sleep. It is more cyclical than linear. Things repeat. And I suspect, it is that repeat that breaks people, that constant longing for some novelty, that we think exists somewhere.
You see, I decided to try out what most people do on a daily in Kampala – the commute. I have been jumping into the best-maintained car in Kampala and making my way to some desk in Industrial Area. It did not matter what time I woke up; the commute has been taking at least an hour. And same story repeats in the evening. I have employed all tricks, changed routes, collaborated with Google maps. Nothing. And this is not helped by the Kampala drivers. Undecisive, scared, especially the newer number plates. I get them. I was there. When your car is ‘new’, you want no one brushing it. You protect it.
You see, there is that extra care we give new things. Like the ka new girl on the corporate block. The IT guy will be giving extra service, the complementary tickets will come flowing. Same feeling that people have for their new cars. The other dilemma is that there is so much of automatics. The death of the stick shift will always haunt us. There was something about that stick. Something that unlocked hidden powers within every driver.
But it could be that I am falling prey to this trending aesthetic – the retro future – a longing for the beautiful past in the coming future. That time when loving people was not conflated with love bombing. That time when people had conversations with friends instead of talk therapy with strangers. And again, these people in Kampala tend to enjoy their hell, Gravity Omutujju always has them covered with a new song. Kampala is a sandwich of morals. We hate certain things in public but adore them in private. You know, everyone in Kampala has an active secret life. Everyone is putting in a night shift somewhere.
But Kampala, this ka city needs more of us on its night shift. The other thing that I hated about this commute was that ka depressing vibe that the city gave me. The dusty coats on buildings, the slumbered walks of the passersby’s, the nowhere people.
Yes, Kampala has so many nowhere people. Relatiionships that are going nowhere. Businesses that are going nowhere. Careers that are going nowhere. Roads that lead nowhere. Just many nowhere. Well, life is also a big nowhere, but at least, it hides this fact. In Kampala, this fact is not hidden. You can tell that guy playing soccer on the ‘kataka’ pitch is not headed to some grand career in Europe. No, it is going nowhere, it will stop at that Lufula pitch.
The thing I enjoyed with the commute was the cheap food. Food in Kampala is cheap to find. You know this side of Naalya, everything is hiked. Every moment is a fine dining affair. So I was in this dilemma, does this commute make sense to a city of nowhere? Well, some buildings are popping up, some people camouflage in suits and pants, but that is where it stops. The scenes in Kampala are not giving.
Me, I have a ka proposal. We need a proper night shift in Kampala. We could live the day shift for the ones that need the butala, the ones that gloss over the idea of working in Kampala and dropping titles and endless certifications. But those of us who want to really work hard, Sheilah Gash, the Spenders Assembly and I, we could take on the night shift in Kampala. They could even give us different city identity cards. The people who only enter Kampala during day, and those of us who enter it at night. Kampala is more serious in the nights.
Because in the nights, everyone means business. The night potholes mean business. The night wink is a serious wink, it is not some other wink, it is a proper kinawolovu wink. You see even Nakasero market is only serious at night, in fact, all the markets. The actual markets happen at night. Same with hunger, night hunger, that thing if it comes, it comes with all seriousness. Failure bites strongest in the night. I propose to head the association of the Kampala Night Shift, aka KNS. We shall demonstrate the highest agency. We shall be the bats of Kampala.
After all, all decisions that matter are taken at night. The meetings that make this country resolve at night. Mbu even sense comes in the night, when she says ‘we need to talk’. I also wish to take this moment to thank the pulezidenti of this country. His gavumenti has ensured that the logistics of nsenene. They arrived on time, and the kikopo is even trading below 5K on some days. To imagine that this weird delicacy of ours also operates at night. Now we look forward to the ba summer to come by and we start loading our Philly Lutaaya discography. May the gods kiss the KNS people.
We need a proper night shift in Kampala. We could live the day shift for the ones that need the butala, the ones that gloss over the idea of working in Kampala and dropping titles
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