signs that she is a high maintenance girl

see today i woke up to a silly twitter trend of who is a high maintenance girl and i wondered how i can tell if #SheIsHighMaintenance. Is she the one who only gets the high in the maintenance when she smokes some weed, or the type that thinks our local brew called malwa is a place and ajono is a dance move……???? i don’t know neither do i care but aside from that……when i saw the trend my mind floated to my bank balance and all of a sudden al the girls in the house looked high maintenance clad in roof top mini skirts apparently enjoying their comfort before they get banned, on heel that are so high they are the average height of a midget in deep blood red lips they smack the brokenness out of you. so i dissected the situation to find out who is really high maintenance in Uganda and i think i just found out rather rudelyyyyyyyyyyyyyy



the only rolex she know of is a watch

see in Uganda we have this local delicacy called Rolex that we youths enjoy with reckless abandon. we use it for dating, passing the time, bringing us together and when we hit rock bottom we decipher them as a consolation during strikes as long as that drink SAFI is in the area. So back to the dating business what if she don’t know that when i invite her for a Rolex date i don’t mean am shopping out in the trendy malls for Rolex watches…….nope am asking her to escort me so we can go munch away in chapati rolled with egg and with handful of vegetable so if she don’t get the queue to call dude better run for she is high maintenance.

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if she don’t this dude better flee the scene

if her handbag is the size of a vitz

see we have this small car in Uganda that will drown in our magnificent potholes on our roads at the slightest drizzle. its so small that it disappears in traffic like lord Voldermolt cast a spell on it, though small its its big enough to sit two consenting  adults. So back to the girl handbag if its large enough to sit this baby car then probably better you moved on before you got drowned in the sea of her bag. see some of these bags are too large they carry her weekend wear in it and it arrives intact, and they are so secure she don’t need Google to find her way around their own bag.


she don’t need Google maps to search that bag

attends random expensively ticketed shows

see our country is funny and they say music alters moods and reveals our true selves or die it. so even the artist toy listen too these days because every riff raff can sing have been categorised into groups of social status, there are artists for the local people, the ghetto bum queens, those who sip panty removers, those in love with rock and pop because they cant dance but swing their arms in the air aimlessly, those gifted with snake like slime waists that can wiggle left and right………end of thinking capacity. all these artists come  at a price for their shows that reflects their status in social. local ghetto bum queens will probably go for a dime but for your high maintenance girl bambi sorry you have to up that digit with a few more zeros. and theses zeros ironically rhythm with her knowledge of the artists she is attending to for the chance is she may know none but wants to appear on the news paper among the revellers having their cool in the VIP section on lazy Monday, go back stage and remind the artist how much she likes their music even though they don’t know the artists current album he/she is promoting.

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she don’t see such notices……….but she wanna be seen

her photo album probably has no group photos of herself with other random people just in case hey steal her shine. the photos are glowing with her dressed in the most expensive trendiest clothes, the heels built on storeys they are the height of the empire state building, the lips blooded red like she use a crayon to paint them in the morning, and the hair go make Beyoncé grow jealousy as a reminder who the real queen is on her chair.


she rather appear twice in an image then share it with someone

she drinks weirdly named drinks at random cocktails

see with all these  themed parties doing in the rounds in the city you don’t want to be labelled at as high maintenance and be seen party hopping from on e theme party to another that’s the issh for the local ghetto bum queens. you attend private invite only cocktail…………….mind you the word cocktails where the drinks are exotic yes……its not a success unless the party is exotic to drench our thirst. drinks like KEG are politely mistaken as number plates of Germany model 1923 design when Hitler still ran the rounds around the planet.  instead the drinks rhythm with the word umbrella for they bring us together like real birds of a father. we don’t just accompany them with fries………….yes fries we don’t eat that cheap issh instead we accompany it with talk of growth plans, company take overs and their is large chance she wont know her number hence her business card comes in handy bearing the umber of the most expensive telecom company in the land.

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the more expensive the better

her make up is near your monthly rent

see beauty is never cheap especially if its artificially natural. it needs constant flowering to defend its self against the constant changing weather climate and neither doe  the government policy need to exist. see she need mascara, then pedicure then manicure then fake bums, nails, eye lashes, hair plus the three different sets of oils she smears on her skin. one to soft the sin, another to moistures it , and another to give it that baby glow that defies old age from us. do the quick month and she’s running into multiple digits thats your monthly rent cant handle even if it fed on Viagra.


well said………………..!!! i doubt

last she has a going to hang out allowance

Forget the idea of calling up a random chic and she is all excited about going out with you………you aint her dream man aka Idriss Elba nor Brad Pitt but some random kid trying to imitate the person on the magazine. Nobody know you  so you have to buy her time the way you do it at the local mall when you buy fish and posho for tonight’s supper, see she visits you often but never seen the direction to your kitchen even her Google maps don’t let her do such thing last time she tried the app crashed.  She don’t use Taxi or matatu for it sounds ‘tattoo’ in her ear and she don’t wear cheap tattoos……her body is a Ferrari and Ferraris don’t wear sticker for starters, she prefers not any random tax but the local privately owned taxi that will ensure her privacy, her allowance of transport still has to be given to her in cash though, the drinks must flow like diarrhoea none stop till she says she had a enough, and when  she done its not mean she will use a taxi  again…….nope her staggering legs need to see where you have parked or that’s the moment you stop claiming you know her any where and the next morning she needs her account credited for enjoying part of her happy time/

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