LETTER TO MUSISI JENNIFER (THE GERMAN WEAVED LADY)

LETTER TO MUSISI JENNIFER (THE GERMAN WEAVED LADY)

Dear Madam Jennifer Musisi,

It is imperative that once in a while that we (those of the poor class) write letters to you in vain hope that you may lower your high-handed ego, sparkle your German weave and peruse through it.

If you don’t get to read this one, then probably your personal assistant will throw it in the dust-bin, seeing as I don’t have the money to buy an expensive investor-like envelope to package it, I will reserve no option but my hand-writing and the 100shs.  envelope I picked from the tatters of mama Ken’s merchandise dropped by your boys.

Yesterday, my son, James was chased from his UPE School in Kitezi after we failed to raise 50,000 shillings to cater for his education. This was the fourth time in a month that he had been chased from school; the past three occasions were due to the floods that had affected their classroom.

Now do not get me wrong, I used to raise 20,000 shs. from my chewing gum vending every month and his mother, a KCCA sweeper, raised a 20,000shs. and then the headmaster would wait on the 10,000 shs. the next month but we had soared on four years of his education. He has, in the four years, beaten our record education level in the family of Primary two class and we are very happy about this now that he will have to wait for his son to beat that level.

In the meantime, me and my family, since you confiscated my property, have been taking tours of the city searching for a job to sustain us. We occasionally land on food for our lunch but when push comes to shove, we sit at the 600 million fountain at the watoto roundabout and ogle away our lunch-less stomachs.

This morning I tried moving out of my slum house in Katanga with the morning downpour. You should have seen me, probably you’d employ me as an official KCCA swim instructor, the way I paddled through the floods with my hands to get to the upscale side of town makes me feel a living genius!

Oh by the way, before I forget, there is that car I see roaming the streets of kampala with a customized number plate ‘Lord Mayor’, send my shout outs to the dude who drives it, eh, people have money in this Kampala of ours. Jimmy, my drink mate at Nalongo’s bar tells me those cars are 300 million shillings? Is it true?

Speaking of jimmy, this guy has been complaining in our bar that your people have been charging his taxi 120,000 every month. Now yesterday, the guy bought all of us a round of booze, apparently, the tax has been annulled by court. I think that court is becoming a good one. If they can continue the trend then perhaps I’ll have more than one tot-pack for my hungry stomach.

Jimmy’s other colleague, Moses, has been out of business after his taxi hit a pothole at the industrial area and lost all it’s balance. The mechanic, Juma who normally works on their taxis has  been closed for the past four days after he failed to raise the hiked business license money.

As you can see, this letter is ………(pen runs out of ink)

I’ll send another when I can afford a new pen perhaps in a month.

                                                                                                                 Yours truly

                                                                                                                  Town dweller!

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