One day and two flights later, it was rainy season in Uganda. Storms rolled into Kampala quickly, but the sound of the radio came out of every doorway as people took refuge inside stores and barber shops.
Juliana – Sanyu Lyange
The red dust that is normally everywhere in Kampala quickly turned to sticky mud that splattered onto the backs of my legs as we trudged up the streets in search of a matatu.
The matatus were minibuses that zipped all around the city, sometimes fitting nearly 20 people in the rows of folding seats. You could hail one on just about any main street, and if the conductor (the man who sat at the front and told the driver when to stop) thought they could fit you, they would stop and cram you in with all your bags.
Weekends – Raingirls