For the first time in years I actually left the jurisdiction of the National Police of Rwanda and entered an altogether new sphere of influence. In other words, for those of you who haven’t been consulting their dictionaries in awhile, I’ve been traveling.

Not anywhere fancy, just Uganda. But my word, was it an eye-opener! I’d heard about the flying coffins that some people called the Jaguar Buses, and I’d vowed never to set foot on those death traps but lo!

I found myself sitting in one last Friday, about to attempt the risky journey to Kampala. Trust me, as soon as the bus begun to move my lips quickly formed words of prayers. I mean, if I was going to die wasn’t it prudent to make peace with my Maker?

Well, surprise, surprise I haven’t become past tense. It seems that the Lord chose to have me on earth a while longer to bless y’all with my presence. I didn’t know that Kampala was so bloody far away. I sat, and sat and sat…until I thought that maybe the bus driver had driven right past it.

Seriously though, the trip there was a total pain in the behind, literally! But lo, the lights of Kampala beckoned! Goodness, as the bus rode into town proper I was accosted by the sights and sounds of that madcap city.

Sidewalks were full of people roasting maize, gonja and making Rolex [which according to a friend of mine is the staple food of Ugandan ‘campus-ers’]. Coming from place where eating on the road is weird, white-people behavior, this was all too funny.

I mean, the charcoal stoves weren’t even a meter away from the main road. I was laughing like a hyena even before I got off the bus. It being a Friday evening I freshened up, and with a friend of mine acting as my Seeing Eye-Dog and GPS system, hit the night spots.

I heard only good things about the nightspots, and I wanted to find out if these fellows could party as hard as we could. The other mission I had that night, although I didn’t reveal it because I didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.

You see, according to rumor, Ugandan ladies left a lot to desire in the looks department. I wasn’t about to swallow that urban legend without a thorough investigation. I went from one club, to another, from pub to pub and guess what my findings were?

The rumors are…sadly…accurate. Shame, shame. I have invited my pal here to check out what God endowed us with. Goodness, wasn’t I happy to get back home…where you can’t help but dump into a lovely girl wherever you go. VIVA RWANDA!

Contact: madogz2002@yahoo.ca