Misadventures in Street Food

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What I just ate should be fries but I am not particularly sure that’s what I ate. I am also to blame because what did I expect?

The first thing I wanted to eat was kikomando – chapattis and beans. I’d planned it out well. How much chilli I would add to the beans before adding the chapattis.

I called 3 of my boda guys in the area. The first one was a way. The second one didn’t bother to pick. The third one’s phone was off. I waited for the first one to return. I called him again and he said he wasn’t going to come back. He’s the most serious one of them all. He does exactly what you ask of him to do. I called the second one over and over again. I begrudgingly tried the third one. And I say begrudgingly because rarely does he pick calls. This time the call went through and indeed he didn’t pick.

I thought about going out but it had gotten to 9pm. To go or not to go. I thought that I should probably just go up to the small supermarket and buy a bag of crisps. Still… To go or not to go. Will I die if I don’t eat these things tonight? Am I safe outside? My mind started playing out scenarios of how my obituary would say “she was longing for chapattis and she went out, she never returned”. Okay calm down mind.

The third boda guy called back. He was away.

I knew I was going to go up there for those crisps but a few meters away from the gate, I saw a lady with a bucket of fries and I thought that perhaps this will be the beginning of me making friends in this particular neighborhood. I asked and she advised that I take the ones of 3K. I shrugged.

She redipped them. I thought she was just warming them but I might have heard her mention that she was making them more crispy.

While I waited for what felt like 20 minutes, I grew curious about the sausages. I asked for their price. 500 for one.

Me to me:  Girl what is that?

Me to her: what kind are they?

Her: mukwaano they’re safe. They’re not pork. We are not our friends from Lubaga. We’re from Kibuli

I kept quiet but like they say about an idle mind being the devil’s workshop, I ended up asking for a pair.

She blew air into my polythene and my body flinched.

Me to her: please don’t blow into my polythene

Her: ow you fear COVID?

Me to me: Girl… blowing air sometimes comes with saliva.

She got a fresh polythene. I walked home.

Ladies and gentlemen! Those sausages had a strange taste and things that felt like soil in them. The fries kept hot throughout the meal but here’s the thing. They were crispy on top but almost soggy on the inside.

A first failed attempt to make friends in 2026.

Who is to blame in all this? Of course me.

Written by

Nabuguzi. Kiwanuka

Lawyer. Founder, Director, CEO at Equate Foundation. Podcaster - Hash Time with Nabuguzi Kiwanuka. Drawer. Dance lover. Music lover. Risk-taker. Daily learner.

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