There is a certain type of worm, eh? It’s much bigger than any worm you’ve ever seen, so don’t bother trying to imagine it. You might hurt your brain. It has four limbs and a dirty moustache, usually. It also has terrible B.O.
Its name is verystupidlout.
Verystupidlout stands in places where it is most likely to come into contact with women, usually of the curvy variety. These women are also more likely than not to be young because everybody knows that older women have no problem with hitting disrespectful fools on the head with handbags. If there is anything this variety of worm fears, its retaliation from a victim.
Anyway, because of her hyper inflation on the curve front, Uganda is chock-full of verystupidlout. Have you ever seen a Ugandan female in a vest and jeans? However small bodied she is, the girl is going to be rocking some serious curves, even if they’re only on her face.
Even Uganda, the country, on the map, looks like a woman in a gomesi wearing many many bikooyi.
Verystupid lout(s) gravitate towards dark and crowded places, for example the taxi park and owino. If you, a curvy girl, foolishly wanders into their domain without a stick, a stern face, a Kalashnikov or a man to accompany you, assault will happen. They will pull at your clothes or tap your bum. They will trail your hip with their dirty hands. Edith says, “Whenever I see them, even across the road, I feel the urge to kick something in the buttocks. Even when they’re not hissing at me, my foot starts to twitch for want of a buttock”.
When the hiss-hiss, kiss-kiss harassment gets too much, when they say things like jangu nkukoleko, my size, American height, bulaka beauty, a perfectly calm and ladylike girl might find herself rolling in the dust with a verystupidlout, with his ear between her teeth and his neck under her knee. And his friends yelling and cheering and getting their taps in.
Some verystupidlouts call their victims mummy. Mummy? The nerve! I most definitely did not mother you, verystupidlout! What’s that about anyway? Are they professing mummy issues? Mummy fetishes? What manner of sickness is this?
When we, the young women of Uganda, first tentatively mentioned this assault to our older friends, some of them would say, “Be happy that those men are appreciating you. What if nobody hissed at you? Wouldn’t you feel un-pretty?’ No. The answer is no. I do not need a random man grabbing my dreadlocks or tapping my bottom or trailing his finger along my arm to know that I am beautiful. And the writing of this article has made me even angrier, a thing that never happens. Usually I rant and rant and rant and then return to happiness. Not this time.
I’m with Nagasha Maureen Muhairwe when she says, “I dream of digging my 4 inch heels right into their obscene brains and casting evil, irreversible curses on those organs that fuel their grubby hands.”
There you have it, verystupidlout. There you have it Ugandan seller of 4 inch heels. We’re going shopping.