Gotta love my neighborhood in Kampala.

And the undisputed superstar of the village is our flashy, forever-serving LC1 Defense Secretary. I just drove past him, smiling to himself – ear to ear, walking in italics. And it’s not evening yet. Last I encountered him (late one night after I’d been burning the midnight candle at the office), I had to swerve sharply off the road into the bush; it was pitch dark then but he was donning his signature sunglasses, ocean blue suit and matching tie.

Had it not been that he was merrily singing his lungs out, he was a gone-goner that night. This I tell you. At that very late hour, he had gone beyond striding in italics to outright zig-zagging in the middle of the road. From the look of things, he didn’t have a care in the world. Clearly, his liquid courage had given him an unnecessary amount of confidence to last him one night.

The LC1 Defense Secretary. He is a friend of mine. Even after I passed a public no-confidence vote in his entire LC1 Committee at our village meeting many years ago. On my way out to the office tomorrow morning, I’ll stop by his office. God knows the defense secretary is a pretty decent and humble chap, to even a fault, when he’s sober. I’ll ask 3 minutes of his daytime.

I’ll tell him it’s rude to point at people as he goes about his most delicate art (or is it a science?) of jaywalking – while at the same time randomly crossing his legs on our narrow community roads. I’ll tell him the devil is a liar. And that Johnnie Walker is his agent;-) #Sunday