Strut Your Stuff A Bit Faster, Please.
It has often been said that Uganda has some of the most
beautiful women.
I’m not agreeing with this sentiment simply because I happen
to be a Ugandan woman. Sometimes I look
at the plethora of beauties in this country and feel blessed to be among her
daughters.
I do, however, have one major problem with my Ugandan
sisters.
And that is the way they walk.
I hate to generalize but Ugandan women, for the most part,
walk as if they have nowhere to go. And
it drives me INSANE.
I had to go downtown last week to help a friend of mine with
some shopping and it turned into an exercise in sheer frustration.
We had parked on Kampala Road and walked down to Luwum
Street. I have no problem walking, and
this seemed like the most reasonable option anyway.
The first obstacle we encountered was a woman, walking and
talking on her phone at the same time. I
couldn’t pick up everything she was saying, but it sounded like she was talking
to a boyfriend or lover of sorts, because there was lots of ‘Mukwano’ this and
‘Kyoka Daddy’ that. She was walking so
slowly, and being a Ugandan ‘gifted by nature’ was taking up most of what was
supposed to pass as the pavement. I was
tempted to push her into the manhole a few feet ahead, but considering the fact
she was too busy on the phone to pay attention to where she was going, I
figured she was going to tumble into it anyway and didn’t need my help.
By the time we had been in town for 20 minutes, I was almost
tearing my hair out in frustration.
There was the trio of campus girls who were strolling in front of us,
swaying their non-existent hips and trying to attract as much attention as
possible, who kept stopping to high-five each other every time one of them made
a comment they considered remotely hilarious.
I shamelessly barged in between them, dragging my bewildered friend
behind me. I didn’t look back to see if I’d knocked any of them into the road.
It’s not only downtown.
This walking disease seems to be everywhere. From where I sit in the studio during my
radio show, I watch people arriving for work. It’s usually a dismal sight. The ladies walk
as if they are being led to their deaths (I share the sentiment on a Monday
morning, but surely, every single day?!)
I appreciate that if you’ve got it, you should flaunt
it. Maybe that’s why my Ugandan sisters
walk the way they do. But must you be in
my way when you do so? I have been
accused of ‘walking like a soldier’ but I don’t care- I want to get from point
A to point B as quickly as possible. If
that means my Ugandan hips pass by in a blur, so be it. I’m not dilly-dallying to give your eyes
something to stare at. Shyaaa.
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