Luganda language on TikTok lately has… how shall we say… has been upgraded with “premium vocabulary.” There is a disturbing rise in vulgar language on TikTok among youth using the Kabaka’s language. Have you met Pressure 247?

Yet aren’t the Baganda traditionally famous for being raised with that polished, butter-smooth manner of speech, the kind where words are carefully selected before they are spoken? Traditionally, for a Muganda, even a cough should sound well-mannered. Raised by a Muganda mother, I know better than not to stand before her while hailing her: you kneel, Joshua, you kneel. Manners will take you places…Whether they have succeeded at taking me to those places is a matter for another day.

So, back to the point, let’s be honest—it’s not like other tribes aren’t on TikTok too. They are. Nor is it that the Baganda are the loudest tribe around here. I bet they are not. It just feels like our Luganda timelines have recently discovered a new “expressive” setting, or TikTok has given this Mutebi-generation a breather to say the words they’ve long wanted to say. Or maybe the legendary discipline of Masaka—that strict, eyebrow-raising, “behave-yourself” energy—is slowly taking a vacation.

And perhaps that’s why the classic, serious, proverb-quoting Muganda man sometimes gets labelled “too much” by our sisters. They call him Omusajja w’eMasaka (Masaka man) and don’t even like him for marriage.

I would say there is absolutely nothing wrong with him if he wants your hand for marriage, Single Lady—I mean he loves you with your stubborn fore-head, which is exactly what matters—but these TikTok streets have been speaking, and you just might want to read on to see what they’ve had to say about your dear loving Kimera of a hubby-to-be.

We are African, and we all love our cultures, don’t we? Yes, we do. We all have our little humble villages whence we emanate and flock to Kampala for a future we think is brighter here than anywhere else, don’t we? Yes, we also do. Yet somehow, we get entwined in the lifestyle of this city and, voila, we shed—or are expected to shed—the culture we were nurtured into by our families and communities back home, right? Not the Masaka man!

He comes to this city with everything you modern girls call traditional, and boy does he stand tall!

So, tonight you will allow me to give you the Masaka man, plus a few other men types by tribe, for choice, so that you might make sound marriage choices because, hey, tribe does matter in Uganda more than these lying Ugandans do admit. Before you take him to your parents, kindly prepare him to face humiliating impressions such as “Linda, you brought us a Gishu. No, we can’t allow it.”

Ever heard of ekinyaanya-nyanya? That’s music made for Masaka, look it up. Now, when the Kinyaanya Jockey is doing his thing up there, Masaka party-lovers are boogieing like they have spirits (the drink or the deities, you choose one) on their heads, crazily waving tree branches, and piercing the ground with their toes till the ground is hurt and raising clouds of dust. Age or status? Nope, that don’t-Akon-matter. The rule is one: ‘Oh, man. Dance yourself silly and dirty till your face is wet and salty.’ Modern girls have a huge bone to pick with that.

A Masaka man values knowledge, and it’s a good thing, plus the act of passing it down to whom it may concern. For instance, for music, he will pause Dole Y’omwaana to explain the meaning of each line, reminding you for the gazillionth time that ‘we were harvesting cassava in Gomba in 1999 when I first heard that song on Kabaka’s CBS radio.’ You have to bear with a common line: I am a ‘musajja wa Kabaka!’ all through that history session.

To be particularly fair, that loyalty to royalty has a beautiful side: Masaka men can be fiercely proud, protective and generous towards their homes and people; when he loves you, he will often show it in provision, building, schooling children, and defending you in public—even if he still expects to win every argument in private. The answer to the how-and-why question of that is: he listens when Ssabasajja makes a call for Baganda men to do all the above-mentioned as a way to create stronger families.

But you, fore-headed sister, have stuck yourself in an environment of besties—Jovan, Reagan, Isaac, Bright, cool guys with cool names that don’t give his Kimera name a fighting chance—so if the guy intends to keep you out of the danger that comes with besties, Mr Masaka man might shove a few fists your way (not a good thing though, sir. Keep your violent hands to yourself).

Another thing: you love partying with the girls till dawn, you love the bottle too; why would you risk dating a Masaka man, knowing as you do that he is Augustus Caesar himself? A woman is not meant to get drunk, so say the rules, at least not publicly.

To be fair, many men from other tribes can’t stand this either.

When you get married to him and suppose that in some instances when you feel puny like that—say you have a bad cramp day—that you will be tempted to ask him to ‘please fetch me some water from the tap and help me hang those clothes on the line.’ Sorry, social media is blighting you; you need to delete it—social media oblivion vs. marital oblivion, set your priorities.

If you are the girl who likes skimpy stuff, I mean, girl, did you even visit your auntie? You call him babe instead of Taata Nakanwagi, who raised you?

Guy will sit on the table as you sit on the mat like a proper woman should; he’ll ask you to pass him the remote when he is centimetres near it and you are in the kitchen; he will marry a second woman and have you congratulate him, he will literally ask you to leave the bed for her that night; he will have to be the only one entitled to some parts of that chicken—and KFC doesn’t make sense to him as he wonders “lwaki enkoko ya KFC tebelamu suupu?”

Are you the kind that can’t accommodate a mother-in-law? Are you one who can’t make proper luwombo? Do your knees hurt you can’t kneel? Try elsewhere. Do you even realise he likes waist beads and the pulled ropes much more than lipstick?

In context, the traditional Baganda culture in Masaka emphasises rigid patriarchal roles where men dominate as providers, decision-makers, and household leaders. So, if you are a modern emancipated woman married to him, be prepared to spend much of your married life clashing with him. These norms stem from historical customs in the Buganda Kingdom, just as similar patriarchal norms in Ankole, Acholi, Teso, etc spring from their own precolonial structures.

It’s common for husbands to “discipline” wives physically—a softer word for wife-beating, practice infidelity without consequence (Omusajja asajjalaata), where they more often than not sire children (Omusajja tebamubalira baana), plus polygamy; and women are expected to remain faithful and resolve issues discreetly.

Yet even here you’ll find exceptions: Masaka men who reject violence, who choose faithfulness, who value partnership; just as you will find kind, gentle, and progressive men in every tribe who quietly break their own stereotypes.

Take the Munyankole man, for instance. People will warn you about his pride, his love for respect, cows and status, his tendency to want a soft-spoken, home-keeping woman who knows how to “keep her place.” They will tell you he can be controlling and slow to apologise. But the same man is often praised for being hardworking, land and asset focused, determined to provide, and seriously invested in his children’s education and future. If you can survive the in-law committee and the expectations, you may end up with a very stable and quietly dependable partner.

Then there is our Acholi man, Opolot. The rumours may paint him as hot-tempered, stubborn, and sometimes rough around the edges, with a history of drinking and a loud voice. They will whisper about polygamy and extended family demands that never end. Yet the same Opolot is also known for deep hospitality, community spirit, a big heart, and a sense of humour that calms storms. When he chooses you, he often chooses your wider family too, and you can find yourself wrapped in a strong communal net. Security, who doesn’t want it?

Look at the Musoga. People joke that he takes ages to understand. They will warn you about his love for ojugulu too. That same Musoga man can be congenial: flexible, adaptable and easy-going once he is settled, and he may support your hustle in quiet, practical ways without making noise about it.

The Itesot man: You’ll hear about his firmness, his suspicion, his strong opinions and his extended family that believes your home is a community centre, his unwillingness to easily change his mind. Yet many Itesot men are also admired for their resilience, their work ethic, their commitment to their children and their ability to stand with you through financial and life crises. When they decide to build with you, they can be unshaken partners.

So once again, to avoid over-generalisation about this issue, please note that these attributes do not apply everywhere, and hopefully your Kimera might be out of the bracket. If that’s so, then Ssabasajja Kabaka agundegunde, and may our TikTok siblings bless his soul by staying away from 18+ talk. It’s not even funny.

Leave a comment, Sweetheart, will you?