Late one Sunday evening as I stood by the roadside at
the entrance of Uganda Management Institute (UMI), all I could think about was what a
slice of cake and a cup of African tea spiced with a movie at home would be
like. A few minutes before while I was walking to the stage at the entrance
from class to catch a taxi home, I received a phone call that a friend would be
going my way so they could drop me closer to home.
Fast forward to me getting into my friends car 20
minutes late where I pondered ‘Where did all the gentlemen go?’ Now you must be
wondering what transpired or went terribly wrong in that 20 minutes window believe
me I will explain but allow me to start from the beginning so that you can
fully understand what I mean.
20 minutes
earlier
I exited the main gate of UMI and quietly waited for
my ride home I did not expect much drama as I hummed away at a tune only for a young
man - late to early 30’s invading my personal space. Now at the UMI gate it is
usual for strangers to wait together for taxis and often engage in healthy
debates about general topics and current affairs. Being hospitable Ugandans,
this is always after asking what professional course you are currently studying
as we keep each other company for what can be sometimes a pretty long wait.
As many of them boarded taxis heading towards home, not
once did I notice this gentleman or so I thought he was at the time, until
everyone else had left. I use ‘so I thought’
because of the conversation that transpired between us.
Male UMI Student:
‘Eh, but this woman. I get here late and she tells me to go right into a paper.’
Me:
‘…….,’ I did not respond.
Male UMI Student:
‘She could not even forgive me knowing that I have not attended class in about 4
weeks and therefore I did not know we had a test.’
I smiled when I heard this and thought to myself
"typical Ugandan," how is this the tutor’s fault that you did not
come to class for a month.
Male UMI Student:
‘And on top of that she insists on taking our papers and marking them before we
left the room, she claims she does not have space at her home to keep our
papers. Can you imagine that?’
I had been silent all this while until this point where
I could not help myself, I needed to respond.
Me:
‘Well you cannot blame her for not being efficient, how old is she? Is she
pretty mature?’
Male UMI Student:
‘No, actually she is mid-30. Anyway that is finished so where are you heading?’
he said as he intentionally brandished his freshly marked test script that bore
a 16/20 for my benefit I presume.
Me:
‘HOME!’
Male UMI Student:
‘Where is that?’
I turned and faced him and looked him squarely in the
eyes with no grin on my face and responded in a firm tone, ‘HOME.’
Male UMI Student:
‘Is that Mukono, Ntinda, Luzira…?’
When he realised that I did not intend to respond to
the question he moved on to a different line of conversation.
Male UMI Student:
‘Anyway so what are you doing at UMI?’
Me:
‘Doing...?’ I asked.
Male UMI Student:
‘Yes, what course are you studying?
Me:
‘CIM – Marketing.’
Male UMI Student:
‘Oh okay, I have never seen you around, which block do you use for study?’
Me:
I smiled and responded ‘one of those blocks within UMI.’
Male UMI Student:
‘Well my name is Julius, what's yours. I have no need to continue talking to
you as a stranger.’
Now, this fellow had broken my number 1 cardinal rule
of this taxi stop - don’t ask for names.
Me:
‘I am a stranger, all the same my name does not matter
I will not be here in 5 minutes.’
Male UMI Student:
‘Please what's your name, I can't leave here without knowing your name after
looking into those eyes.’
My back was facing him but when I heard this I spun
around to respond, ‘I beg your pardon?’
Male UMI Student:
‘I can get lost in your eyes and those lips…there is a
lot I could do with them.’
Now at this point I asked myself, a full grown man
meets a stranger and because I am courteous and polite as most Ugandans are,
you decide to take liberties and …. ‘’Be silly’’ for lack of better word at this
time.
Me:
‘Eyes, lips are you serious?’
Male UMI Student:
‘I cannot leave here without knowing your name,’ he said as he began to move closer
to me.
It was at this point that my friend arrived and the car
came to a halt a few yards in front of me, you all know what I did – right. I
darted straight for the car door at such a speed that I almost head butted my
friend Zinedine Zidane style as she sat in the driver’s seat and I firmly shut
the door behind me.
Mothers out there please raise your sons to be polite,
raise them to know what appropriate conversation for public places is. This is so that ladies like me will not wonder where
they grew up or as the commonly used Ugandan phrase comes to mind, not to make
us wonder ‘’who grew them.’’ (Direct translation from local dialect)
Fathers, please teach your daughters the basics of self-defence
or in my case how to head butt wanton fellows such as the one in this post.
With this fellow’s escalation, I would have needed these skills in a few
minutes scratch that seconds.
