A fast retreat

When I am in town, I try not to use public toilets because…well, because one visit to most of those places will destroy your appetite for anything. You’ll be in such a state that even the mere thought of going to the bathroom will induce nausea.

When I say ‘public’ I am talking of those places where some sorry person has to take your Shs100 and avoid looking into your eyes because they heard what you just did in there. You know the drill.

The nausea will come because of what you’ll invariably find there. It’s really in the upbringing, I am told. Like that talking head on TV the other day on the 9 o’clock news who said the police recruits who destroyed Mandela National Stadium did it because “most of them had come to Kampala for the first time from far-flung places where there are no toilets.” Yeah. That’s why they found it convenient to pull apart our only national treasure when it comes to sports facilities.

But sometimes the urge to go is unbearable and one just has to or else, they’ll do it right there in the taxi. You don’t want to be the one sitting next to a guy who’s on the brink, fighting off green stuff that’sjust beating on the door.

I never ‘tie.’ I have been told it is very dangerous to refuse to relieve yourself when your body demands it. So I always go to a hotel. Not just any 1-Star affair passing off as a hotel – a real hotel.

My thinking is that if the high and mighty of society are eating there; if the politicians and their cousins and their wives are wining and dining at an establishment, chances are that they’ll have clean toilets.

I have gotten really familiar with the johns at Grand Imperial Hotel.

Last week, I had to beat a quick retreat. When I got there, someone had left a surprise for me. Or for whoever was supposed to come after them. It could have been that the toilet was broken or that all one needed was to flush but I couldn’t wait to find out. Whatever that person had eaten was pure evil.

So there I was, sitting on a boda-boda returning to office and pretending that it was all part of my schedule. I learnt that it’s not so easy to smile at a joke a colleague throws your way when it’s fire behind.


About Steven

It wasn't me; arrest the voices. It was the voices in my head. Sike! I am Ugandan first. I care for development in my country. I am a curious observer second and I care to know what you think.
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3 Responses to A fast retreat

  1. petesmama says:


    As for the way those SPC idiots have defaced Namboole, it is unthinkable. I don’t even know which donkey decided they should be accommodated in the national stadium.

  2. chanelno5 says:

    I here Otafire or one of those rich chaps owns those toilets in town. Do you know how much they make a day? ALOT.

  3. chanelno5 says:

    Change. Go to Spectrum. Its in the middle of town and smells like a garden of flowers/

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