In Honor of Track No. 3 on Forest Hills Drive



I didn’t start having sex until pretty late. While kids were doing bad manners in class rooms during sports time and after evening prep I was buried neck deep in a copy of Lord of the Rings. Or The Godfather. Or Dune. Or The Stand. It wasn’t that I didn’t like girls (I did); it’s just that I liked books more. That’s not to say I didn’t enjoy their company though, because I did. I was quite comfortable around them too. It’s just that I never really learned how to successfully cross the border from the federation of friends to the country of heavy petting and beyond. In other words, I friend zoned myself.

It wasn’t until the wasteland that stretched between senior six and my first failed attempt at university that it finally happened. Those were hot days mostly filled with old R-rated movies that I couldn’t watch as a kid at a nearby video library and hanging out with some of the other guys from the neighborhood who would come around. Most of these guys were either university students on holiday or unemployed graduates still living at home hoping that something would turn up soon. I was the youngest amongst this brood of aimless young men by at least a couple of years.

We would talk trash, drink beer and on the weekends sometimes go out. These were the days of Mateo’s, Alzawadi and Steak Out; Sean Kingston, Brick & Lace and Flo Rida.

On one particular Saturday three of us pooled the little money that we had (I won’t name check anyone but I’m pretty sure at least one of you will read this and remember the night I’m talking about) and decided to check out Steak Out. We got there, found it dull and crossed over to Cheese Bar, some new joint next door.

The place was packed the way only a Kampala hang out can be and playing music that was way too loud. Not that it mattered, back then I thought the disregard for personal space, a set of ringing ears and having to shout at the top of your lungs to make simple conversation was a worthy price to pay for fun.

We bought a round drinks and after not too long found a group of girls to dance with us. The idea was to dance with them and then when it was time to leave, to leave without them. Or in case they left first, to let them. And they did leave first. Only thing was, when they did, one of them decided to stay. Yep, the one who was dancing with me. At first this didn’t pose itself as a problem, she lived in nearby in Wandegeya and so when it was time to leave she would just go home and so would we. And so my two friends watched as me and this girl who had gone rogue danced some more, drank some more and made out in some dark corner of the bar. And then, when it was finally time to leave, she left with us.

She didn’t stop in Wandegaya. Instead she boarded a taxi with us to Ntinda.

While one of my friends was saying I should totally go for it, the other was trying to convince me it was not a good idea. I didn’t know this chick. What if she had something? Use your head man; do you think the first time she is doing this? It’s not worth it man. And he was totally right, I knew he was, I told him he was but the devil on my other shoulder just wouldn’t quit. He told me his brother was out of town and he was crashing at his place, I could crash there too. He knew for a fact that his brother had a box of condoms under his bed, so I wouldn’t have to worry about that. He was 100% OK with sleeping on the couch. Come on, the chick had come this far hadn’t she? What was wrong with crossing the finish line with her? In fact, it would be wrong of me not to cross the finish line with her. I found myself nodding along to everything this friend of mine was saying. He made a very convincing argument.

When our taxi reached the end of the line we got out and stood at Ntinda trading center. My friend against the whole idea was going towards Kiwatule while other friend was heading towards Minister’s Village.

One guess which direction I went.

Written By L.A. Lutara at<This piece feels unfinished . The writer did not give us details of the direction he took and if the condoms were enough. Lloyd , you owe us !!!!>


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