While growing up in the beautiful place of Buganda where people greet Luganda ‘eradde Ssebo, eradde Nyabo”, my twin brother learnt to ride a bicycle earlier than me.
Our father’s bicycle had broken down and the only opportunity for me to learn ridding a bicycle was when Baaba Lutaaya who would always come with a bicycle visited.
Baaba Lutaaya would visit home so often, whenever he would visit, arguments and fights between me and Wasswa would ensue as to who should ride first.
Mother intervened and ruled in my favour that Wasswa should give me a lee way of learning the skills of ridding.
I took this to be an entitlement even after I had mastered ridding.
One day, at around 6:00 pm when Baaba Lutaaya came, Wasswa argued that I had also learnt and that that privilege of me ridding while he is watching should be discarded.
A physical fight for the bicycle erupted and this time around mother ruled in favour of Wasswa Godfrey. Being omwana owa kasunguyira, I started crying uncontrollably and unceasingly (this was a trait every family member knew about me)
I cried while walking to the fields across the road and lonely sat in the garden with overgrown bush.
Just as you know what happens next a child’s cry, sleep took the better of me until dusk and night fell.
Meanwhile it dawned on family members that Kato wasn’t in the house. A search started until mother remembered that after the brawl with my twin brother I walked towards the field she followed my footsteps and found me in a deep slumber!
Now if Mr. Snake had wanted to discipline me for invading his stead, I wouldn’t have lived to tell this story of child mischievousness
