I have been pondering heavily, and with a few tear-drops, on something: the many men behind bars for defilement. I keep asking myself a fundamental question: What if many of them are victims of juvenile seduction? This idea felt so important that I had to water down my usual no-so-friendly vocabulary into clear and easy-to-understand words.
It’s all enveloped in the vernacular saying: Ebbugumu ly’ekivubuka likakanyizibwa na biwuka. Very deep something there. Two minutes for you to look up its meaning…
See I spent most of my boyhood reading the chronicles of… not Narnia, silly—the chronicles of the Old Fox Tom Rush (the man who boasted of living a life that most people just dream of), and Harry Sagara (alias Saggy, the man from whom many borrow the goatee appearance), and Kanaabe of the ‘My campus Girlfriend’ fame, and much later when I was a little older, Barbara Kimeye’s Moses series. These are tales that will suck the wind out of your lungs, in a way of amusement. The nostalgia from these folks’ works has got me thinking of how they portrayed their tragic relations with the female members of our species. Kanaabe, for instance, lay before our eyes how his life tumbled the very moment that he ventured into the business of dating what-was-her-name: that underage campus girl; and, if my memory serves me right, he ended up a locked fella. Ah, so many stories there are to tell.
Bottom-line: if you get too friendly with these so-many-like-ants contemporary Kampala underage girls, my brother, you will know exactly why nobody can’t stop reggae in the moment when double lines appear on that HIV test kit, or you just might be the next Nalufenya convict when defilement charges get slapped on your silly face.
Here is the situation: underage girls, belles still in school, are no longer those tiny little innocent sisters who need guidance. They are the very weapon formed against you that you simply might need to scamper away from as fast as your feet can carry you. But running away from them is the most difficult action to undertake, and we understand: first, these people look fine as pumpkin skins; and unless you take a look at their IDs, which is less likely a thing you will do, they do not look their age; they look, talk and carry themselves with an air of maturity, they chill at Café Javas, ride in monster rides, their bosoms and bottoms puffed up all the way: if she doesn’t have the behind she will stuff butt-lifter sponges behind there, so that there is no way for you to survive her. They own the 16s of iPhones, where they are the proud owners of fat TikTok accounts. And, heartbreaking as it may sound, they have sheer.com accounts! Breath in, breath out…
So now you know that Gayaza-Girl-or-some-other-school next-door neighbour’s daughter is more than just a student: she knows a lot more than you do about the A-Z of life: partying, seduction, making out.
Between the A and the Z are full-on adult vibes: sipping all those tribes of alcohol you only read about in Lifestyle magazines, like they are the rainbow itself—without its colours of course; diving into Kampala’s nightlife like it’s their personal playground; dressing in skimpy fishnets or seductively cut damage denims; enough to make your eyes pop and your jaw drop on the ground, and serving provicative-fashion choices that could stop traffic. They’re out here acting like they’ve got more experience than you, Mr Been-there-done-that. And you gotta believe me, they do.
Picture this: a hottie pulls up to the club in that barely-fitting outfit that is screaming all the way, ‘I’m the main event.’ She heads straight to the bar area and orders a cocktail whose name you don’t even know, she knows how to order better than you. Interpretation? She is in more 18+ telegram groups than your group chats, more nights out than you’ve had in a year. She knows what to do to a man that will lead him into bed with her, and exactly what to do to him when she gets him there; she has the famous waist-beads which your girl has zero idea about; she knows full well how to recite the ooohs and the aahs; she has mastered the Kama Sutra, and she knows how to get a man addicted to her. Tell me, how do you survive such a girl?
Anyways, back to the club scene: as she heads to a dark-corner seat, she flashes her youthful yellow thigh, and you see a dragon tattoo snaking up her waist. You gulp. Your heart stops. Next, you get ideas to attack as she gets to her seat. But suppose you are the cowardly hunk who has a PhD in hesitation. In that case, she will either throw Lucifer looks at you, bite her lips, keep throwing her hair to her sides, sit cross-legged so you could tour her voluptuous body with your now-teary eyes, or walk boldly to you and whisper sweet-nothings into your ear whilst touching your chest, specifically your nipples. And you will feel a breeze down your spine. Then you will chicken-headedly invite her to your table or proceed to hers. But before you do that, read Proverbs 7:6-7; yet because of the effect of time and years on that scripture, replace the Biblical adulterous woman with the underage girl, who is now more Jezebel-esque.
In downtown settings, Kabalagala is where things get to happen. The streets don’t sleep. They hum with boda-bodas and the scent of grilled meat. But inside spots like Planet Sports Bar, the energy’s wild, to say the least. You’ll see a girl playing pool, a full sleeve tattoo on her arm, her outfit a mix of fishnets and a leather skirt. She’s got layered necklaces with star pendants and a rosary—what’s with that rosary, girls? Her ears are sparkling with studs, and she’s puffing on a cigarette while chatting up a group of guys. Mike met such a girl. “She came up to me, all flirty and stuff, saying she could show me a good time. Kept touching my hand, laughing at my jokes. She had this anklet with charms and a lip piercing—looked so mature. Long story short, she delivered what she promised like a pro. A few days later, I saw her in a school uniform. I tell you, brother, Kaleke-Kasome has never stopped ringing in my ears hahaha”
Here’s the kicker, Mike: it is an important requirement to ask about her age or even a look at her ID. She might be living like she’s 27 and all-mature, yet she’s still in a Seed school somewhere, still got a curfew (that she probably ignores, perhaps she escapes through the window in the dead of the night just to hit happening places), and still got parents who will call the Police on you. You might think you’re just vibing, but the law doesn’t care about vibes. One wrong move, and you’re slapped with charges that’ll have you explaining yourself in a courtroom while she’s back to posting selfies on Snapchat like nothing happened.
Let’s break it down:
These girls might know the bouncer at Guvnor, might have a playlist of party spots you’ve never heard of, might even have a sugar daddy or two. They’re out here living a life that makes yours look like you’ve been napping through your 20s. Nails glittering with gem decals, etcetera. But don’t let that fool you. That wild energy, that ‘I’m grown’ attitude—it’s a trap. You don’t wanna be the guy who thought he was just having fun, only to end up with a mugshot. Snap!
“I thought she was at least 22, the way she moved, the way she talked—flirting like a pro, touching my neck, whispering in my ear. When we went for it, I swear she was wild like a stallion. Somewhere, I got to know she was a Form 3 student. I froze. She was 16. I got out of there fast.” James, you survived, but God doesn’t forgive twice, so don’t do it again.
So, what’s the move? Keep your distance. Admire from afar if you must, but don’t get involved. Don’t get her number, don’t allow her into your crib. Let not her older looks deceive you, or her sharp papayas tempt you into drooling episodes.
These girls might seem like they’ve got it all together, but the reality is, they’re still kids—and the law knows it, even if they don’t. School teachers, are we together? Protect yourselves, stay smart, and don’t let their grown-up actions drag you into a mess you can’t clean up.
That they are good and quick at WhatsApp flirting is a story for another day. And that I need to have some stories from your own experiences with them is a story for today. Comment away…
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Compiled by Mwesigwa Joshua
