As anybody living in Kampala will tell you, it has been hot this year. Hot. Just to illustrate this, here are a few answers I got when I procured a thermos suit and asbestos umbrella and went around the city asking random people for views and comments
- You know it is hot when you cry salt and your spit is just powder in your mouth. Mama Miriam (G-nut Sales Executive and neighborhood humorist)
- ..!., – James Nkozi (Student)
- Kale I swear God is a sadist. Miriam ( bird)
- Sob sob. Sheila (Pupil, Nakasero Primary)
- LOL. Rwakataka (Madman, Nakasero Market)
- The sun has drawn closer to the earth/ a poet sighs and cries alas/ … Peter (Poet)
In other news, this tourist was found melted in her hotel room at a city lodge.
However recently the weather did a back flip, a double take, alarmed us just like dat… Hit the brakes, did some weird sh*t basically and rained for a full day countrywide. Why am I talking about the weather? Because I have writers block, and when you are bored and not in the mood but you have to say something, you talk… about… the weather.
So this is my small talk. Where were we
So the heat, after several weeks of bashing our brains out with invisible hammers and raising blisters on concrete, seems to have given up and gone back to wherever it came from. (Though it still sends shouts out every once in a while). It is a bit disorienting for me to not walk/creep out of the office wishing I was a penguin in Antarctica or something but it is still a welcome feeling.