I took a stroll down to the bridge that connects Bukoto to Kisasi late Saturday night, to catch a glimpse of the world outside mine. I wanted to see crowds filled with celebration having heard the announcement and declaration of the new President of Uganda
She skillfully dug through the white walls of the sticky fibers that covered up a large, yellow and juicy flesh. The anxiety with which she tore the jackfruit, held me in the same position, and made me watch her every move. The manner with which I looked on, each time she placed the fruit in her mouth, led her to find a need to communicate.
“We have a lot of fruits in our home”, the ten year old said, “Sometimes I pack and go with it to school”
Should I leave stuff at his place?
It’s amazing to have a boyfriend, but a more relieving feeling is knowing that you have stamped his back, copyrighted his shoulders and labelled his trousers. Booked him. If there was a way we girls could tattoo the back of our men’s heads with our names. If only there was a way we could make them say our names for every sentence they bring out, so that whoever they interact with knows they are taken.