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It was a cold rainy morning when mother passed away. In my mind I knew I had so many mothers including my aunties but after the burial I saw every one leave. It was me, my two siblings and our drunkard father. After a few months, one of our paternal aunties got concerned mostly about my two younger sisters. She managed to convince our father that she would take all of us to school in Kampala. To us this was the best thing that could ever happen to us.

We were so happy and excited. Personally I had always had dreams of living in the magnificent houses in Kampala far better than our grass hatched huts in Lira. This was on a Friday, my father asked my auntie to wait and travel on Monday because he was to get some money from his produce on the Sunday market day. Kampala direct , Kampala direct , a group of young energetic men shouted as they directed the passengers to which bus. Now this is the road to my new exotic life In Kampala.

I had never seen such confusion and congestion in my life. I held both my sisters’ hands as one of them held her’s to our auntie. I mean I knew I could easy loos them or them loosing me to the “fasi...fasi “ men at the bus terminal which I learnt later that it meant give way. At this point I was equally confused because the picture of Kampala I had in mind was far different from what I was seeing now. I immediately started paint pictures of how my auntie’s home would be. From the bus terminal we walked to the old taxi park where the noise became much more, we boarded a taxi going to Kamwokya as the men called. “ku Kasasilo stage” my auntie asked the taxi conductor to drop us off. We jumped on two boda-bodas to kifumbira she instructed the riders.

I was seeing us sink into tiny house built one next to the other leaving the magnificent ones on the other side of the road. At a huge trench the boda-boda men stopped under the instruction of auntie Sofi. She made a phone call for the second time instructing someone to bring the keys to the house. This was when it hit me that what I actually had in mind was not what I was going to although I kept on consoling myself that i was still in Kampala. Life with auntie Sofi start, she went to work very early in the morning everyday and she came back home with different uncles late in the nights, so she told us. One night she did not come back home and this was the last time we saw her.