This post is continued from here Part II
Part III: Kampala Night Life As I Saw It
So I know most of my readers have been waiting for tales from Kampala’s clubs and am sorry to disappoint you, I didn’t club much. However, all is not lost. That Friday evening, we dressed up to go out. I’ve never been the type to take three hours of preparation just to go out; am more of clean pair of jeans, matching top and some cash. Anyway, that night I took about 2 hours: from matching nail polish to shaved eyebrows to dresses and high heels, I was finally ready to hit the town.
We took a boda boda (motorbike) to Garden City. Garden City is a mall. That boda boda ride turned out to be one of my highlights of the trip to Uganda. You haven’t been in Kampala if you’ve not taken a boda boda, helmet-less and in a short dress being blown by the wind (while M.T’s dress couldn’t even be blown by the wind, it was that short and she was that tall), negotiating potholes while you hold on for dear life, and when you finally join the main road, you cruise past cars, weaving dangerously in and out traffic, and being stalked by at least half a dozen other boda boda riders telling M.T she has nice thighs.
At some point, we jumped the red light and then had this black car following us; the boda boda guy slowed down while the car caught up with us, and they guys inside lowered their window and hooted at us and said something like “ You chicks are so hot, you’re going to blow up Kampala.” Okay, I just assume that is what they were saying in Luganda. Or something similar. Anyway, they had intentions and I don’t think they were good intentions and we told our boda boda guy to hurry up, we didn’t want to end up in a slaughterhouse with ritual marks on our bodies when we are finally found floating on River Nile.
We finally made it to Garden City safely, paid our fare and headed to Allegators. It’s in every sense of the word, a gaming center. It had video games, pool, etc and a bowling alley.
Notice anything? Bowling? It was on my to-do list, remember? One more thing off my list, thanks to a Ugandan blogger (seriously, he’s good. Good in writing, I mean.). Read his sleek and wild blog here.
Bowling looks easy, but after 3 attempts of clean misses, I was almost giving up. I was pissed, I took the ball, tested it for weight, cursed it, removed my high heels, focused on those pins and sent the ball down the lane. I hit ¾ of those pins. I was so proud! M.T on the other hand, was having lots of success, finishing up the game in one throw.
From Garden City, we were a crew of about six and some wanted to go home and others to go dancing. A compromise was struck; pass by the club for one more drink and then the supermarket for a mzinga (a 750ml of something strong- Ugandans also say mzinga, FYI ) and then go home. That’s how we stopped at Fat Boys and Just Kickin that’s next door. There was a mandatory security search, I was starting to complain when I was reminded of that World Cup bombing. M.T and I got some Redds in plastic cups from Just Kickin, got some chips and liver somewhere along the way too and with a mzinga safely in the car and diluting the Redds, we retired for the night.
Saturday morning was spent catching up on sleep and preparing for lunch; which we finally had at 3.00 p.m. I had planned on going sightseeing and swimming in the lake in the afternoon but it rained and I just wanted to stay in bed. M.T and I spent the time catching up; and reminiscing our high school mischief. We were classmates in high school, just in case I haven’t mentioned that before.
We may have had a house party invite that Saturday night, but then there was no electricity at our host’s house, so we just ended up passing by the supermarket and picking up a bottle of waragi (whose remaining contents I still have in my room as I type this) and having a quiet candle lit evening. Waragi is Uganda gin (chang’aa) and it’s pronounced waraji. I remember tweeting a little and fell asleep while tweeting. I was woken up at a quarter past six; I had to catch my bus back to Nairobi at 7 a.m. that Sunday morning.
-The End of Tales From Kampala-