The Kumite Part II

By • Nov 23rd, 2010 • Category: WTH

Remember when we were all talking about the Ugandan Kumite? Previously on Urban Legend Posts on Kumites? Well, we are still on that topic.

Welcome to The Arena, historically the venue of many a bloodbath. These walls have soaked in gallons of bodily fluids, they have echoed with years of screams of agony. This hall is haunted by the shadows of unspeakable pain. Welcome to the main hall of St Savio’s Junior School Kisubi. The venue of our first match.

The judges are:

  • Ian Mbugua:
A Bitter Muhfraker


  • Juliana Kanyomozi
A hair weave. Juliana is often seen underneath such objects
  • and Vladimir Jonas, The Jonas Brother They Don’t Tell You About, because nobody can be bothered with that post-nasal drip called Hermes.
It’s racist and rapes vegetables

Let’s bring out our fighters!

Red Corner: The Grandmother of Gore, the Nana of Neckbreaking, Geraldine Namirembe Bitamazire!

Blue Corner: Wacha-now-cos-a-badman-a-come, It’s the Kamwokya Crusher, Bobi Wine!

The combatants first circle each other in the ring. Each is reluctant to make the first move, but you can see the bloodlust in their eyes. Neither one would mind making the last move.

Finally Geraldine Bitz has had enough pussyfooting. Enough of this prancing about. I don’t have time to waste.

After inhaling sharply she unleashes a torrent that is her first blow.

“You boy, what is wrong with you? Where is your eeniform?  Tack your shirt! Pool your stockins! Have you done your homework? Lookwat this one! Where are your parents? Lookwat it!!

A fierce and ruthless school-style scolding, under most contidions, is guaranteed to humiliate the recipient into dust. What will Bobi Wine do?

The Ghetto Survivor reaches into one of the dozen pockets in  his rasta coloured outfit and pulls out a gigantic spliff.  He is a ninja with these things because he manages to light it up with only one hand even without anyone seeing a lighter or a match.

He takes a deep draught and is immediately  high.

What a brilliant move, because now he is completely scold-proof!

As anyone who has ever taught in the following schools: Namilyango, Makerere College School, SMACK, Trinity College Nabbingo and Mary Hill knows, you can scold as much as you want but if the student is high you are just wasting your time.

It’s time for Bobi Wine to strike. “DJ, track number 19 Run it down, Nalumansi!” he bellows.

With every hit he performs Bitz gets weaker. By the time he gets to Mr Kataala,  she has taken off most of her clothes and is halfway pregnant because that’s just what Bobi Wine music does to women. When he says “Bomboclart” she screams for mercy.

The referee has to jump in to stop the fight.

Time for the judges to speak.

Ian: Path-etic.

Julianna: First of all, Bobi, I love your outfit.

Vladimir: Mercy is for the weak. FINISH HER!

Ian: Now, now, if he kills her they would have to appoint a new minister of education and what if it ends up being Butoro or some crap like that?

The verdict, The first bout in the Uganda Kumite goes to Bobi Wine. Bomboclart!

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