But some freshers! What is taking you to the library in these first weeks?
There was a time things worked well in Kampala. As a school child, you could get away with everything. And we surely did. From calling 999 at the Post Office, and pulling pranks on Fire brigade, the world was our oyster. Of course, we also paid for it
If there is one city I really know in and out, it is Kampala. For seven years, I walked through this city as a pupil at Shimoni Demonstration School; from playing in the lifts at Post Office, Uganda House, to walking through the golf course like we owned it. In the evenings we played soccer at the subway next to Parliament.
Life was good; we knew it was impossible to get knocked on a zebra crossing. We thus kept teasing vehicles on the road to see how good their brakes worked. At National Theatre, we would pop in, and watch plays for free. Then, you had to pay nothing as a student to access these places.
Something worked well in Kampala, and thus was trust and love for school children. As a school child, you could get away with everything. And we surely did. From calling 999 at the Post Office, and pulling pranks on Fire brigade, the world was our oyster. Of course, we also paid for it. People such as Ssewungu (currently a member of Parliament), Salanza, Kafeero and the likes never stopped ambushing us. But we were just children.
Last week, some demon came over me that sent me looking for the famous text by Mugenda and Mugenda (2003). It is the most cited not just in East Africa but probably in the whole of Africa.
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