LIFE IN THE STREETS OF KABALAGALA

LIFE IN THE STREETS OF KABALAGALA

The streets of Kabalagala must have been pure and virgin some time back.Maybe many years back but today the solemn state of these streets has given me a melancholic experience and lessons that have enriched my outlook on the lives that people lead in my society.
Recently, I have been challenged to look more deeply at the life of the people in Kabalagala. I have had one rather unfortunate event happen to me on these streets, two days back I almost got knocked down by a motor bike..I walked away with a few leg bruises but not so scary to getting me running to the doctor and looking for help but it got me thinking of the life of the people that I live with and meet on a daily basis, what they have been doing and with a special interest I have become part of what they do.

You see, the world has branded these streets as "sin city" and maybe the "Vegas" we all long to be in. But I have a different tale and sharing it may be the only joy that I could give to that night worker that stages up in her little baby clothes as early as 7:00 pm  as she whispers her price levels to every other man that so cares to listen to her and maybe offer her business for the night..You see, she has a job in the day but with the peanuts collected, she hopes for a lump sum in the night after all musician sing about the money that is well spent in the night. And be not quick to judge, you see she is struggling to find meaning to life and maybe it is a phase in life or maybe not but the truth of the desperation I see in her eyes is in the need to find purpose and care but above all fulfillment and yes, she might be searching in the wrong places but that doesn't mean she is not trying. That "home wrecker" is on her way to recovery and to purpose, she may be lost somewhere in wrong decisions but hail her, for the Maya Angelou we celebrate today walked down that path.

And there is this mad man, not mad in the sense of crazy but mad enough to make his home on the streets. my favorite one, he made a home under this one tree, As I walk passed him with his half way consumed cigarette I hold my breath just so I might escape sharing his cigarette, he holds on to his trousers in the need to keep them up just so he is not embarrassed by the world embracing his nakedness, but unfortunately his state to the world is already embarrassing he has failed as a man and he is in the lazy bone category...and in the eyes of society "a failure to. the. bone." but in his eyes.in his sunken sorrow filled eyes he asks for understanding ,many times I walk passed him and something motherly within me screams to reach out...in his bad own way he is trying to reach out to the world  and hoping that he will be understood. That in his effort to try and make change in himself he is caught in the retrospect of the joy the cigarette and the tot-pack, that have for so long been his sole companions in the cold nights that mask the streets of Kabalagala.

 

My mornings are met by two interesting people, the club bodyguard who for courtesy of being nice always says good morning to me..Which I find so sweet, His case maybe the only one that doesn't in particular bring me tears because in his journey he has chosen to be the security others need. And as I walk down to my work place, I meet yet another bunch of good people trying to make a living..."the decent way" (someone might scream);they sell barbecue chicken and sausages, for no particular reason they caught my eye as I learnt their routine. Now, with the kind of business they do, they ought to sell everything before day break so that the morning finds them off to the market to buy new and fresh meat but what happens if the night doesn't offer what you expected to be the outcome and you are stuck with the meat from the previous night? And each morning these noble men of our country pack up the remains of their meat just so they don't lose out and bring it back for sell on the next evening for the totally drunk men that wish to have a fill before they head out and drink all the more. To many this is disgusting -a great awakening to the lose behavior of these men but hold it right there, you are going to condemn these men who for the love of a decent livelihood have been faced with a decision that sways them to one alternative..you either show up and sell your roasted meat or go home and die of abject poverty now I know integrity in all aspects should be adhered but am not going to be the judge of it for many things may have past my way that had my integrity levels questioned...even for you.

So these are the people I meet and will continually meet, now am no advocate for being scrupulous or lazy or any other sort of indecent life practice but I have seen what life could make us. And in my need to see a better place of our society I have learnt to appreciate the lives different people have gone through and maybe someday..I will be the change they have been searching for.

Tricia Gloria Nabaye.