How To Maama Mmere Woteli

Good evening to my young viewers. And whattup fam to my old viewers. Today we are going to discuss How To Maama Mmere in Kampala.

The term Maama Mmere Woteli refers to a small restaurant in which serves what is variously known as local food, rocko food, real food, and, most pertinent in this economy, cheap food.

It is at Maama Mmere that you find such cuisine as matooke, kalo, sweet potato, chicken the thigh, chicken the back, flesh fish, rice peas, Irish peas, goat, hoof, and ghee nut.

Be careful when ordering Ghee Nut Sauce. It is not what it sounds like at first. 

Listen to me: Don’t order peanut sauce. Don’t even say the word peanut, because unlike Javas and Karveli staff, Maama Mmere waiters don’t care if you know that they don’t like you, so, unlike Javas and Karveli staff, they won’t pretend. They will correct you with contempt as convincingly disguised as Peter Sematimba’s “youthful” look.

“Peas we have. G-nuts we have,” is what the waiter will sneer underneath rolling eyes, and then he will wait for you to beela clear.

2.  Don’t rush the waiter. Even if you went in knowing exactly what you want to eat, don’t just blurt out, your order, mbu “Rice, irish, goat meat and veg” then turn back to your phone. Like, hello, can you please, please, for Kiwanuka’s sake be a little bit patient for like, once in your life and let this waiter do his or her job? Millennials!

First finish the Luganda greetings: “Gyebare.” “Mmmm. Namwe mugyebare.” “Mmmm.” “Mulina emmere?” 

Yes, when you go into this, a food-serving business, you have to ask if they have food to serve before you ask what food to be served. 

I don’t believe it is possible that there are no entrepreneurs running Wotelis in Kampala who are from other tribes. There must be Ugandans from all over our nation involved in the industry but, somehow, every single Maama Mmere waiter I have ever had the honour of, when asked what food there is, will only list the items that are considered food in Ganda culture. That is the dry hard stuff. Even Okirol did it.

You have to lodge an follow up inquiry to find out what accompanying moisture (sauce or gravy) will make the food digestible, then you will wait out the recitation of the list: Beef, goat meat, chicken, fresh fish, dry fish et cetera.

Now you can say riceirishgoatmeatveg as much as you want.

If you ask for chicken, just eat the thing and don’t make a fuss. We all know actual chicken don’t have legs that long but complaining isn’t going to rearrange the DNA. Kaloli is going to stay Kaloli so just shut up and eat. You will shit it out afterwards.

If you speak Luganda the way Veronica Akao speaks English, speak English.  Don’t assume that just because a person says Lumonde instead Rumontsay that they can’t speak English– Maama Mmere staff understand English, you racist. A person who says “lice river” is speaking proper English. They are just speaking it in one of various forms of propriety via which English is held around the world.

Maama Mmere knows English because they cater for a vastly international clientele. They are  always serving bazungu.

If you don’t do your maths properly, you assume bazungu eat at Caffesserie and never at Maama Mmere, but let’s apply some fiscal policy here. 

All races are the same, equal and alike. Regardless of our skin colour we all require nutrition and refreshment. This includes bazungu.

But they are very many bazungu in Kampala. They can’t all fit in Caffessarie, so where do the rest eat?

Woteli, of course.

Then factor in this observation: Bazungu in Kampala be  when they are broke af banange. Like as if LC staff. That’s how broke. They are ever eyvah sharing bodas and repeating the same kitenge jumpsuit for a whole week. 

You think those ones can Caffesserie like us?

No, they eat at eat at Maama Mmere. And until they learn Luganda, Maama Mmere’s staff has to accommodate various accents of English.

Probably why the waiter says Sveet potado and river. Because they learned English from Latvians, Americans and Chinese people.

We now close with a word from our sponsors:
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Oh, and Adventures of Chandler and Frasier coming soon…

Approaching Women In Cafes While They Are Reading

The scene. Gyaldem. She is in the cafe with her book, That Thing Around Your Neck by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, signifying that this is a highly intelligent, sophisticated and erudite person who not only bes “erudite” but also probably uses the word in conversation.
And properly, not mbu, “Yo, that jazz was mob erudite, gwe you be there.”
(That is how I use it. I am intelligent, but definitely not sophisticated.)

Mandem approaches Gyaldem with intent to vibe.

Mandem: Hey, hi. I couldn’t help but notice you from across…

Gyaldem: Hold on… hold on… (licks finger, turns page, continues reading.)

Mandem: My name is …

Gyaldem (Sighs, takes off glasses, closes book with finger marking page and begins): I don’t think you should be giving me your name, or it is going to end up in my whatsapp group. In a heavily-memed chat beginning with “Would you believe this nigga?” Anything you say can and will be used against you, dude.
Nothing personal– I am sure you have noble and decent intentions, but it’s your timing. Look. I am reading. And I am reading Chimamanda. When you couldn’t help but notice as aforementioned, did you notice that?

Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, the reigning World Heavyweight Champion of African Books. She is the new Achebe, the current Soyinka and the ongoing Ngugi.

This woman has the best words and the sentences in Africa, the US and UK, dude. The only reason her supremacy doesn’t cover the whole world is because when you translate her works to Chinese, they lose some of the potency, which gives native Mandarin writers an advantage. But if it wasn’t for that, if she was Xi Mamanda, she would be the best in China as well.

This is where you find me. Sitting here sipping this delicious mocha latte with my mouth and sipping Chimamanda with my eyes. What is going here is the sustained imbibing of very high quality intellectual and culinary stimuli. Everything that is happening to me is leaving me very impressed.

If you are going to interrupt this, if you are going to require that I stop consuming the Chimamanda-quality words and take in yours instead, they should be equally articulate, erudite and insightful, if not more so.
In fact, perhaps you might want to actually say the word “erudite” in your vibing lines.

And properly, not mbu, “Yo, that jazz was mob erudite, gwe you be there.”

Ima let you respond but let me first finish what I was saying.

If you do not have any paragraph, sentence or phrase that is higher in quality, composition or volume of trenchant, canny, well-observed social insight than Chimmy line, then you might as well be asking me to put down my mocha latte and share a mug of chai mukalu with you.

Nothing wrong with chai mukalu. Chai mukalu is fine. It is bracing when it must be, soothing when you need soothing. It is the perfect accompaniment to cassava kibuga, fresh dry chapus or Richy maziwa.

Chai mukalu is fine. But it is not as multilayered and full-bodied and rich as this caramel mocha latte which teases me with hints of secret spices and
new flavours with every whiff and sip. This spiced latte is a whole adventure.

I’m just saying, it’s levels to this shit (RIP Meek Mill when you die.)

So, before you speak any further, self-analyse, carry out a quick inner quality test and make sure you are not asking me to stop the mocha and hit the mukalu. Be certain that you are offering me conversation that is worth having me put down this book.

Otherwise, come back when I am reading some cheap, gutterpress trash like The Anita Everything Collection.

And now a word from our sponsors.

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What Else I Have Written

You would not know it from the fact that my last posts were about chicken, fish, dogs and more chicken, but I am actually quite a versatile writer. I do a wide range of topics and issues. In this post I shall offer you, the idle passerby with time to kill because you are stuck in a traffic jam and are fortunately in the middle seat so no one will steal your phone, a few links to other things I have been up to.

First of all, let’s do some Suki.

Next: Here is a light-hearted piece that was written with no real malice or bitterness. Well, probably a little. Probably a lot. Actually, I HATE love! It was about Valentines Day and I wrote it for New Times Rwanda

Let’s escalate this to another level of intellectualism, wherein I raise the cerebral status to current affairs commentary such as that practiced by the likes of Trevor Noah and Charles Onyango Obbo. Political Satire! Ministry of Education wants to introduce a new curriculum and parliament is all butt-hurt because they didn’t get permission first.

Presenting: My Latest Piece for Nilepost, wherein we discuss the value of education and how, if at all, it should be improved.

Are you clicking those links? Are you thinking to yourself: “What an either inconsistent or multifaceted writer this one is! He does different writing forms!” Well, you ain’t even seen nothin with them goggles yet, fam. Cos I even did academic research essay on African History.

And honestly, I would like to be modest, but I can’t even kid about this: this is probably the best work I have done all year so far.

It’s a three-part article about General Seh Dong Hong Beh, the leader of an all-female army in 19th Century Dahomey: her story, her career, and what its implications are to those of us who are Africans in 2020. It is three 1,000 word articles so it will take a while to read. Feel free to bookmark and come back to it, but I hope you do take the time to finish it. I rarely write about things I truly care about but this one, is from the heart.

Nalo! Namutima!

Here’s the link. to part 1. The links to each successive piece are at the end of each other one.

Finally, a word from our sponsor. Anita Everything hit 1,000 downloads! Mama, I made it.

Fam, reading this, don’t tell me you weren’t among the teeming multitude who have over the past two months burst their sides in mad mirth at the words typed into this, the best book about a girl-child-turned-business-tycoon-in-Bulabira ever written?
Don’t you want to be like your friends whose sides are no longer intact? You want to be there fwaa, just wandering around with sides unburst? You click here and download the pdf of the book, fam. You do not need those sides. Let them burst.

Finally, a word from Mw. Sabu of Miggo District.

Ride For Ma Dawgs!

Dogs are okay, I guess. I would prefer it if they had the modesty to wear pants but that is not enough to start any major grudge.

If anything would stir a real quarrel it would be in the area of their manners. I wish they had the manners to shut up at night while we are trying to sleep.

Take this transcript of a recent conversation among a few Kyanja dogs.

One of Them: Maguja! Gwe mwana plotti ki? What’s up fam! What’s going down there in mukigagga?

Another One: Snoop! Out here we are balling! It’s lit af! Mwana, bakyali tuli eno tumeketa magumba just. Patte afta patte. Fall in, gwe.

Original Dog: Dude, for real?

Other Dog: Forreal, son!

Original Dog: Like. Furreal, dawg?

Other Dog: Furreyoreeyo!

I can hear all this from my apartment that is, according to the sonar app on my phone, half a kilometer from both parties. 

Intermittently, as Snoop makes his way to the venue of the feast he will yell out updates of his progress.

Snoop: Maguja! Eh, mukyali yo eyo? I’m round the muyembe, with squad. They want in.

Maguja: Pull up, pull up! Dude, we are out here partying like human bazungu! Puuuullluuuup!

That is when another dog joins the conversation.

New Dog: Snoop, oliwa? Ogenda ku patte ya Magujja? You fox! You can’t even holla?

Snoop: What do you mean? What do you call all this noise we are making if not hollering?

Maguja: Aate ani ono? Gwe, aani akuyise?

New Dog: Temummanyiira, mbwa mwe. You know it’s me, Doglas. 

This is when aggression enters the conversation and it turns into an argument. Within a rapid minute, there are insults and threats flying over the suburb.

Maguja has squadded up and all his dogs ride or die with him. Meanwhile, the other faction also rolls deep, so there are twelve voices barking back.

Snoop, in the midst of all this, is plaintively, but loudly, howling for peace and understanding.

Tabaala ofe. Wandya k’enyama

They will do this all night long.

That is not enough to make me hate dogs, though. In spite of this, dogs are loyal, friendly and intelligent enough to be trained when domesticated. I suspect that even non-domesticated members of the species can be trained, and If KCCA or our local government authorities actually cared about us, they would go around training stray dogs in night silence, teaching them to shut up while we are trying to sleep. The fact that they have not isn’t evidence that dogs can’t learn to shut up, it is evidence that our government doesn’t care.

Dogs aren’t like cats, which are very stupid.

Don’t be fooled– what looks like the aloof snobbery of an elevated mind that is above the petty needs humans is not intelligence. That is just what being too stupid to understand who’s boss looks like when it is packaged in fur that walks nicely. Cats are idiots and would be extinct by now except for the fact, fortunate for them, that they are inedible.


Cat lovers, I don’t judge you, Cats can be valuable as fluffy moving cushions that decorate the living room and eradicate rat issues, but dogs are much more functional in the general sense, and preferable in the moral sense. 

Whereas your cat will watch you die with barest milligram of interest, your dog will fight for you and save your life.

I recommend that those of us who live in Kulambiro, Kira and other areas with muggers and robbers get dogs that we can train to meet us at the taxi stage and then escort us home through the dark pathways the bandits infest.

With a dog by your side, you will not only get home with your phone and laptop safe, but if you trained it well enough, you might also have a canine mouthful of mugger’s flesh you picked up on the way.

Ideally the dog would bite the ass. If you are accosted by Ssuna, Gabon, Mobutu, or any of the K-Side Crips, it could go for the balls, but in the dark you might not recognize the assailant. If it is Cinderella, Bettina or Nana Badness and the dog lunges for balls, that will just give them an chance to escape. So train it to go for the ass. Always the ass.

You can also train it to go out and tell its peers to shut up at night when we are trying to sleep.

Download the funkiest free ebook in Uganda, The Anita Everything Collection. You will fall in love with Anita and wish you had an accent like hers. She is like Black Widow but of Business in Bulabira, not Avengers in MCU. Click here