Girl Code Rules: The Do’s and Don’ts of Sisterhood

Dear, readers. I am here today to report something itchy. Here is the tea: so, my editor at Nymy Net, who happens to also be my boss too, recently caught the fevers to troll one of Nymy Net’s most famous male writers—hands up if you want me to mention his name—for being curious about Dating articles meant for ladies. Chuckles! So, every time I write something helpful for the ladies Mr. Good Editor thinks gents like my colleague should be ‘snail-snail’ on reading it, or better still stay away from reading it like there is a Kabi Danger Hatari sign on it. Not that I’m offended but, sir, how do you suppose a human being could, should and would survive on this flat planet—no prizes for fighting with me about the shape of the earth, if you think it is round let it remain round for you. So er, Mr Editor how are we, in your wise opinion, to survive on the planet, without poking some nose into other genders’ business? For instance, how are we supposed to know about women’s sinister dating tricks, without cracking something as important as the girl code (sister code/sisterhood)?

We all love Taylor Swift—or at least know her from that Grammy’s dance, don’t we? So, Taylor sometime ago, happened to be besties with Katy Perry—come on, don’t be asking me to tell you who Katy is for crying out loud. Now, these two pop divas were tighter than a pair of Spanx, until Katy allegedly swooped in and nabbed some of Taylor’s tour dancers like it was a Black Friday sale. Next thing you know—boom!—it is shady lyrics, cryptic tweets on X, and a feud rawer than beef. Reason: Girl Code got smashed. Here we go again. Dear ladies, let it be known to you, from that Taylor-Perry fight, that you don’t poach from your sister’s crew—dancers, baristas, crushes, or come near her brother, luseke victim, landlord, whatever; it is Sisters Before Misters. You don’t play silly on marked ground, you don’t talk ill about her man, or ditch your girl for some dude’s late-night “wyd” text, and you never—I repeat, never—make a move on her man, her ex, or that guy she’s been eyeing since COVID. Basic principles, babes. Basic principles.

One of my favourite writers, Precious Gift Aloyo says there is a code that goes: Books before boys, because boys bring babies! Woah! So, you sisters are seeing us as though we carry baby-manufacturing raw materials? How sad. Sadder because, come on, aren’t babies supposed to be a beautiful thing? Maybe, maybe not but, girl, I think all it means to you is you should not be unzipping before that degree gets done with. Or, as some realists would opine, keep that KISS on for those few ooh-aah minutes.

That said, let us say some more about exes, and set this straight: Ex zone is a no-fly zone. Doesn’t matter if he’s sliding into your DM with heart-eyes or looking like he just stepped off a GQ cover. Girl, you don’t go there. It’s not just loyalty—it’s about not reopening her tear-stained diary entries from three months ago. She might swear she’s “fine,” but we all know that’s code for “I’ll ugly-cry if you date him.” Keep those boundaries tighter than your skinny jeans, and avoid ‘I wish I knew’ for later.

The year was 2020: Jen, Tracy’s elder sister, introduces her fiancé Frank to Tracy, who, as age always sets the stage, is fairer and tenderer than her—the bum is shapely as it should, the breast is sharp as Gilette, the legs are plump and eyes are crested-crane gorgeous. In a snap shorter than a week FFF (Foolish Fiancé Frank) is texting Tracy more than he does Jen. What started as: ‘Hey, have you seen Jeni today?’ escalated into ‘How nice it would be to take you my pretty mula out sometime.’ Dude, what the pigeon’s toe are you thinking? And you, Tracy, why are you saying No instead of NO? If it goes against the code to even date a dude and not mention it to your sis how bad would it be if she found out you are flirting with her man? Read this story…

Once upon a time, there lived a king. He was a fine king who ruled well and made his subjects happy. Yet, he was unhappy because he had a curious problem… he had the ears of an ass—that’s a donkey, you perv! He was very ashamed of his secret and kept the ears hidden inside his turban.

The only one who knew about it was his barber and he had been sworn into secrecy. The barber knew better than to disobey the king’s orders and so he never spoke about this to anyone but as the years went by, the secret ate away at him. It grew inside his tummy and soon, the barber’s stomach grew so big that it threatened to burst under the weight of the secret.

Unable to bear this predicament, the barber ran into the jungle and decided to tell his secret to the wild trees and flowing rivers. They would not repeat this to anyone he thought and so he stood deep inside the forest where even the wind could not enter and blurted it out. “The king has ass ears”. Having said this once, a wave of relief washed over the barber. However, what the poor barber had failed to see was that there was a pigeon that had perched itself on the tree, below which he had stood shouting out the secret. The pigeon had been gorging itself on the fruits of the tree. Once the barber left, the pigeon flew away and off he went shouting ‘The king has ass ears. The king has ass ear!’ The Barber and his family, story for another day.

Secrets, dear sister—let us say this in whispers, when your girl unloads them on to you—maybe she’s sneaking around with 4 dudes, each of them categorised according to how they add value to her Kampala lifestyle, or she had the mother of one-night-stands at Nyege Nyege—you lock that vault and toss the key. Thou Shalt Not Snitch. This law, important as it is, is very hard to keep, for our good sisters have itchy mouths, like that barber. Those ‘I am telling you this but don’t ever say it out or say that it’s me who told you’ do not really work. If you have listened to the song Kasuku, you know pretty well what sup.

Lisa, Pophia and Amber are friends. They met at Thobani Centre somewhere in Kampala. Lisa is, in the click, the boss chic with the money. So, her gait is more like that of a strutting queen, she literally enters rooms like she owns them, and her hair is always oiled, fresh and sharper than a tack. Across the room, Lisa is always mid-laugh, and Pophia—ever the vigilant enforcer of Girl Code/Sister Code—always does the praises: “Lisa, you’re serving looks so hot I need oven mitts to handle it!” The rule is clear: Thou shalt always hype a sis up, especially if she is the bankrolling type. Pretty sure girls know this too well.

Well, let’s see how much you know the sister code; perhaps there is that one single code you would like to share. Put that in the comments and perhaps my editor will know that it is safe for both genders to poke into each other’s business. Comment away…

Also read; Bro Code Explained with Examples: Loyalty, Lies, and Ladies

Compiled by Mwesigwa Joshua