Before Kampala Finishes Us: Things We Need to Start Normalizing Immediately

We have normalized weekday church without blinking, which is fine. But maybe it is time we normalize a few other things before this city swallows us whole.

From chipped plates to secret underwear politics, here is a public service announcement you did not ask for but desperately need.

Once upon a time, Sundays were sacred. Mothers became five star chefs, serving breakfast spreads, lunch buffets, and dinners that made you feel like you had accidentally married into royalty.

Fathers became chauffeurs or troop commanders, marching the family to church as if it were a national parade.

Then life got busy, and somehow we squeezed church into Wednesdays and Thursdays like it was just a dental appointment.

Since we are normalizing weekday church, let us normalize a few other things.

First, stop serving yourself food on chipped plates and faded plastic cups, let alone eating straight from the saucepan.

You are the VIP of your own life. Eat like you matter. In this Kampala, where making it home alive qualifies you for hero status, the very least you can do is have a decent plate under your kikomando. In fact, add some avocado for finesse.

And while we are here, let us revive the Sunday best. Once in a while, shower, get that face beat, step into an outfit that could make traffic policemen salute you, and walk out like you are going to address the United Nations General Assembly. For that day, you are the president of your household.

Let us also normalize family dinners in fancy restaurants. These are not reserved for the Western world.

Save that little money you were about to blow on random things, and you will find yourself eating steak under dim lighting like a Netflix character with a backstory.

Hotels are practically begging you to visit with budget staycations. Go. A suffering free life is everyone’s right.

Another thing: stop cleaning your house only when guests are coming. You are the most important guest in your home. Do not live with dust bunnies and cockroaches doing catwalks across your living room. Not even modern day latrines can accommodate those creepy flies, how much more you.

And for the love of sanity, why are the good underwear only for special visits? Do you think the rest of us, who might have to undress you in case of a boda accident, are not worthy of a matching set?

Those tattered boxers are a human rights violation. Start feeling good from the inside out. Confidence begins with knowing your underwear could be in a fashion ad, even if no one sees it.

The beautiful things you do to impress others are ten times better when you do them for yourself. Life is short. Treat yourself like royalty.