Came into town early.
Early, before the sun came out, after the rain had ceased, and the roads were ribbons of mud.
Beautiful Kampala, she is a temperamental lady. When it rains, the leaves and trees and green are renewed. But the roads turn to mud, and the people living in the valleys have to move out of their hovels.
Yes, hovels I said. Once went to Katwe slum. For a reason I choose not to disclose. Hovels, as in a room, 3 by 4 meters, no windows but a door, that is latched from the inside, and a string that acts as the lock. And the life savings of a human laid out on the ground and mattress. When it rains, the water moves in under the door, so it means one sleeps on their feet.
It rained last night. I was with him, after a particularly grueling day. Just moved into him, and wrapped myself closer. Not the time to think about the problems of the rest of the world. Slept the sleep of the content, and woke up discontent, having to move and go work.
Rivers of mud, which I had to cross and walk through. Those were the roads this morning. Red brown mud, every step a danger of splashing on the clothes. And had to walk a bit. No ‘boda-boda’. No thanks. Those mad drivers seem to go madder when it rains. They drive worse than usual, intent on delivering their passengers to the gods before their time. And the roads are slippery, with that red mud of Kampala.
Now, mid day it is, and I am relaxing. But the sun is out, and the sky is clear, though there is something in the air intimating some rain. But it is bright. Very bright, lovely. This temperamental lady Kampala is smiling at the moment. The mud of the unsurfaced roads is forgotten. Now they are dried up and the soil locked in. Not blowing around; dust like it is in a dry spell.
Notice. Campaigns for 2011 have started already. As usual, with the ruling party calling on the incumbent to go for it, another term. Col. Gaddafi is quoted telling him to rule for life, till death us do part, or he gets tired of it.
Same old, same old.
I am inside, but I long, I lust to be out in the sun. It is so beautiful. Even the various things that I have to do, the things that keep me indoors, they cannot take away the feel of a smile on my face, wrinkle of joy that that is. It is indeed a beautiful day of sun. Not so many people on the street, but those who are walk with a slight spring to the pace. Busy, directed, but the smile of the sun is a touch and torch of joy all around.
Yeah, in a great mood.
Hope you are having a great one too.