Kampala the City I come from.

Kampala, a city bustling with dreams and hope

I have travelled all over East Africa. Down South to the humid coastal city of Dar es Salam which embalms the feeling of being in a sauna. East to the chilly streets of Nairobi, far south to the clean and organized city of Kigali. But I choose Kampala.

Kampala is the pulse of Uganda. The sun rises and sets in this City. In the hustle and bustle that is characteristic of the streets of Kampala, everybody is always on the move. Everybody is chasing a dream.

You want it, Kampala has it in plenty. Every road in this city leads you to where you want to be. Corporate Kampala is characterized with people working for big corporations with a small business by the side.

It is the reason the Brooks index report ranks Uganda as the most entrepreneurial country in the word. Everywhere you turn, you see a city bustling with activity. From the road side vendor selling bananas, to the youth riding the boda bodas like there’s no life tomorrow. In Kampala, you see it all.

 Its brevity. Its verve. Yes, it is soiled in its flaws, but has learnt the art of moving on. Owino Market is our Wall Street. Downtown Kampala is the cash cow of this city.

Kampala is very warm, its weather changes like the heartbeat. It is so quick you cannot explain the very hot temperatures experience five minutes after a heavy down pour.  The soaking heat reminds us that we aren’t far from the Equator. It’s unpredictable here. This minute, the sun burns more fiercely than a funeral pyre, the next, it is cold as twigs in a frost.

 Many things will make you fall in love with this city. Our nightlife is as vibrant as Las Vegas without the showgirls and gambling and neon lights. The bars are open 24/7, so are the churches and mosques. Put your ear on the ground and hear the middleclass faking an accent, faking a life. But it’s this middleclass that dresses Kampala in its nice outfit. The plush neighborhoods of Kololo and Muyenga and Naguru and Bugolobi juxtaposed with large slums of Katanga and Bwaise remind us that even the brightest roses have thorns.

The National Theatre is well dressed with youth bustling with creativity. It is where the arts dress up and dances salsa. The street is the jungle where the weak is devoured, but on these streets, heaving with commerce, you will get anything you want. A brand new iPhone 8, vendors selling wisdom in dog-eared books. They sell you concoctions that they swear will raise your hopes and libido. The traffic is claustrophobic, but I love it because this is where we get to gather, all of us, as Kampalans, in the quest of grandeur.

Kampala is no longer a city of seven hills that the British left behind.