Kampala Goodness

Someone keeps saying I should do more travel pieces, but I keep fighting it, in the spirit of keeping things under wraps. But something changed this time, and I thought it’s good to talk about travelling in its true unInstagrammable form. It started with missing my flight. You do not want to ever miss your flight, friend. If you are going somewhere in the evening, just make sure you are at JKIA by afternoon, honestly. I fought against my very instinct and ended up leaving way later and then not using the bypass. So once we were stuck in Upper Hill traffic, I knew we were done for and just pretty much gave up.

You will meet drivers who think they know Nairobi shortcuts, those that lead you straight into the bowels of the traffic glut itself claiming there is less traffic in the tiny roads. It is painful. And, I, for one, will never take a bodaboda from CBD to JKIA to beat time. I am not crazy and I love myself too much. To cut the long story short, we ended up at the gate right at the minute it closed. After confusing ourselves for another many minutes and taking the wrong escalators and turns. LOL. Also, I was not laughing that time.

We had to make very quick decisions and pay the penalty for the next flight out at midnight. Through it all, my colleague thought I was in denial. I was so collected – like, this happens to me all the time sister, relax. My dad called and suggested I ask where Miguna had been staying so I can spend the time there as well. SMH. I counted the notes at that customer service desk and it all felt so surreal. The total penalty was more than the original flight cost. But later on my colleague reminded me to count my blessings. It could always be worse. The price of a lesson learnt far outweighs the experience. We might not even have had that money in the first place and could have missed the next flight altogether. I was supposed to be mad at someone for this but I was not. Did I forget to mention the part where I left something in the Uber because of the rush? I had to smile at so many men to go backwards through departures to the starting point to meet the driver at the terminal. This involved leaving my passport behind too and coming back to an immigration guy who wanted to play with my head and freak me out by not giving it back immediately.

Not the perfect start to a travel story, right? Wrong. This is the real deal.


To Whom It May Concern

I was going to write about Valentine’s Day. About how I wish you were here already, so we could celebrate our love. But I will not because I am very confused right now. Someone somewhere decided 2014 will be the year Africa takes the homosexuality topic to another level. It’s all about the laws and bills in Uganda and Nigeria. Meanwhile others are ‘coming out’.

Where do we draw the line between right and wrong? Should what is right change over time? Should what I consider wrong change because everyone else has accepted it is right now?

I do not know what to think any more.

We were going to talk about this sooner than later, my dear. I will need you to be sure about who you are, just like I am sure about who I am. I will need you to be that strong tree that is not swayed by every gale that blows its way.

I have never understood, I will not even try to understand why some things happen. I have no idea why a man would be convinced he has sexual feelings for another man. Or even a woman for another. I do not understand why it is called being in the closet. I do not understand.

Valentine’s is around the corner and I am yet to meet you. I know you are somewhere out there. Perhaps I have met you already. All I ask of you is, my dear, be grounded. I never talk about these issues because they are none of my concern at the moment. Sexual issues.

One thing I am sure of, though, is that I cannot be waiting in vain. I cannot wait for you only for you to one day announce, at the prime of you mid-life crisis, that you are not sure of your sexual orientation. (Who even came up with that term?) Because people have put ideas in your mind. You were surely not born that way. If you were, you wouldn’t need to convince us, we would naturally accept it.

I am not even sure why I am writing this yet I love Modern Family so much, Cam and Mitchell and all. I love Cam especially. I just do, probably because they are characters in a mockumentary. Maybe I am also not being realistic.

But like I said, what do I know? I hope I will know. One day.

PS: I will write to you about Valentine’s soon. It’s still days away. Keep checking your mailbox.