So let’s start at the very beginning. This is very a small shop that I pass at the start of my walk. Notice the gorgeous early morning light, the men making their early morning deliveries.
Blue skies, billboards, traffic.
This is the Boda Boda stand. Every morning they see me walking and every morning they offer me a ride. Boda drivers sit and wait for customers on corners just like this all over Kampala.
And I as brave the traffic and the nasty blue and white Matatous ( taxis) I look wistfully about for a pavement, a sidewalk, a scrap of concrete to call my own.
A fruit stand is being set up, getting ready for the day.
Here is the Traffic Police Woman. Everyone is scared of her power and her uncanny ability to keep her uniform sparkling white despite all this red dust.
I’m not sure what time Sahid opens up for business. I have never seen him. I fear his beard trimming days might be over.
A patient and non-nonplussed Trooper waits as I lag behind snapping photos with my iphone. This is the spot that Handsome Husband calls The Soup. There is no logic to the movement of traffic in this spot; it is a war of metal and wheels.
Matoke. Sold any time. This is the busy market corner that seems to never sleep. No matter what time of day, Matoke is being sold.
Now were are getting to the worst bit of the walk. This is the last leg ( excuse the pun but I do worry about losing a leg on a daily basis) and the hairiest part of the walk. Not only do we have no sidewalk but we have a deep ditch; the thought of falling keeps me on my toes. Cars here drive fast and I have no doubt whatsoever that they would knock me into the ditch without a second’s thought.
Fanta, jerry can, ditch…
Minutes away, the walk is almost over.
I never walk if it has rained over night; the red dust will be mud and my chances of slipping into a putrid ditch would double. Despite the traffic, the speed, the ditch, and the smell I have grown to love my walk. Ear phones in and 25 minutes later I arrive at school.