An Afternoon

I have just been to town.

Downtown as in Kampala. A city on hills, trees, buildings. The streets are full of people. Amazingly, they are not the usual crowds. Usual as in late afternoons, when the streets are awash. Am amazed. Seems as if there is so much construction going on that the streets are changing on a daily basis.

But the people are still the same. Travellers, touts, shop attendants, people just hanging about the streets, all desperately doing nothing or something to earn a living.

Eye candy.

When I walk through Kampala, my eye is naturally drawn to the guys. Indeed we have some very beautiful people, men in Uganda. What amazes me is the supreme unconcern with how they look. The majority on the street are men. Young men.

For a beautiful woman to sashy across a street, you feel the guys pausing in whatever they are doing to follow the swinging bums. And comment, ribaldry. For me, I watch them, the guys. Reclining on one another, passing the time or not with crude commentary in the press of the street. And they are supremely unaware of the fact that they do look good. In lugabire, the once-upon-a-time tyre rubber sandals, or working slippers. They manage to look good.

Yet when they catch my eye, they immediately assume that am a customer interested in their wares. Of course I am interested in their wares, but not the ones hanging on the walls…

The day is nice- cool, lovely. A bit of sun which has now been hidden by clouds. It wants to rain, but I am not sure it is going to do so. Maybe a drizzle, a dusting of rain, to replace the brown red dust lifting from the roads.

I feel the pull to write, to pour my heart out on the white sheet. But, regrettably, I have to do some work. Will have to. But, isn’t it great to be alive!

GayUganda