Manufactured In Masaka, assembled in Kireka, repackaged in Sweden, Denmark or Dubai and lastly sold to Uganda via Entebbe Airport. Those are basummer for you. They are here people. Once again they return to bring colour to our streets, inflate our economy and tell us stories about Scandinavia. Obviously the stories don’t come immediately. Anti jet lag! Everything is put on hold because of this jet lag thing. They talk about it like it is the worst thing ever to happen to someone aboard a plane but still sounds too good for some of you Poor you, your whole life is one long lag. You can’t understand it because you’ve never been on a plane. If jet lag was a disease, you would want it to be a plague. These basummer make some of you want to suffer from jet lag. It’s like music to some of your ears.
They roll out of the airport with earphones plugged in their ears with that ka funny face where they try to recognise some relatives. These basummer forget even their mothers. They smell good though. Their scent will offset the pungent smell of that village brother who is part of the welcoming committee. That backpack they carry is where the magic is. Ladies, don’t rush for the big suitcase. There is nothing there. Probably just a bunch of old clothes and sneakers the guy will want to sell to raise dime for his ticket back. They like to make those useless comments in heavy fake accents. And the accents, Jesus! The ones from Malaysia and Dubai will carry tonnes of American accents. Basummer will read out the entire menu before they choose some bu salads. They they will give you that calories jazz you don’t want to hear.
They are never prepared too. You will reach a store (anti they don’t call them boutiques) and somehow he will forget that they don’t use dollars here. Chap will have you driving around the city like a mad man in search of a forex bureau. Phones are never charged too. They always have phone issues. It’s either about forgetting his charger somewhere or his new Iphone 7 is locked. Guys will see you dashing around city hangouts in the night thinking you guys are blasting kumbe you’re looking for a guy with an iPhone charger. Imagine! Half of the time spent with a musummer is about testing your problem-solving skills. They will ask you about some long lost pal of theirs who is now working in Mbarara and wonder if you can go check on him. Mbu “can we drive there?” No dude, I won’t drive to Mbarara for anything at 3am. Are you mad? They are never practical. Basummer will have you attending Blankets and Wine, some random festival you had no idea about and perhaps a borehole opening. They have their ears on the ground about everything happening in Kampala. Hmmm!
