Growing up in a slum

I wrote this about a year ago, it is a tale of sheer humble beginnings 

I grew up with my mother in a slum. Then, it was only my mother and I and we slept in a one roomed house that was divided into a sitting room and a bedroom by a curtain. That is the way everyone’s house in the neighbourhood was structured. We shared the latrines and bathrooms which sometimes would get so messed up and impossible to use. We used to have some kind of cleaning roster but some people would not clean when their turn came. On those days one couldn’t use either the bathroom or latrine.

The situation worsened when it rained as some people would enter with dirty shoes and not clean after themselves. Thankfully, our houses didn’t flood when it rained especially at night, like in other places. We liked playing in the rain even if the water was dirty and before you frown, it was actually fun. For us, fun was all that we cared about. the dirty bit was for the adults to worry about. I can’t even imagine where that water came from, but somehow we never fell sick.

I remember that the place used to be littered and there were filthy trenches next to our muzigo. We had a rubbish point that garbage collectors always forgot to clear and some neighbours refused to contribute money to pay the person who was supposed clean the trenches. Then, we had to wait till everyone gave the landlord their contribution.

There is no privacy is slums as just by observing, everyone knew what was going on in the neighbour’s house. You would know who spent the night at whose place, what food they eat since we cooked from outside the house and what time one got back home. Most of the children around the place used to wear dirty, torn or stained clothes. My mother bought me a couple of slippers which I only wore after bathing in the evening. It was okay to run around without slippers and no one ridiculed or bothered you about it. It was so much fun to run around the neighbourhood with other children as we chased after tyres or played hide and seek. We rolled in the grass and wailed in delight as we played with each other.

Being a child in the slum
My mother never had to buy me toys. Life in the slum was never dull, there were fun activities to do and that did not include watching television. My mother had a small black and white one but we only watched it at night when outdoor activities were not an option. But it is not because the people in our neighbourhood were criminals or dangerous like most people think of slums. They were average normal families who just couldn’t afford to live in a better place.

While there, most of us the children went to the same day school so parents took turns to take and pick us from school. Those times it felt like one big family. Most of the people were friendly and looked out for each other’s children. For example my friend’s mother wouldn’t see me cutting my slipper and pass by without scolding me.

Our house was next to a market that was so vibrant in the evening. For a treat, my mother would take me and buy all sorts of deep friend snacks and oh boy was it fun. I looked forward to those days. The market would be a little dusty because of a lot of movement and we would keep stopping so my mother would exchange pleasantries with people she knew.

It is only when we went to church and found children with better clothes and white shoes that I envied children who lived elsewhere. But that was momentarily. The slum was home and I loved it, I didn’t wish to be anywhere else.

Away from the slum

Later, this was taken away from me by a man that I later learnt is my father. My father’s home was enclosed in a gate. It was a lot bigger than my mother’s place with a living room, dining room, a telephone, big fridge and I had my own bedroom. There was a video player and DSTV so we were glued on the TV most of the time. It looked like it was from the movies. I found it so cool and exciting but after a few weeks I got bored and missed being under the sun and running about in the open. My father had two cars, one to take us around and another that he used. My half sisters and brothers had never used a taxi before so they did not know many places which I found so bizarre. I remember laughing at them and I bragged that I was "sharper" than them. 
I later got used to my new life and within no time I could fit in both worlds just fine. And since the posh places are, according to society better than slums, before long my mother was out of the slum and I spent more time at my father’s.

Unlike what a number of people think, I don’t believe that people in the slum have a lesser life compared to those who live elsewhere. They lead a normal life. Despite the neighbourhood and surrounding, the slum is home and it always feels good to be there though they wouldn’t mind having better.

Banura 

The boda boda business that compliments my salary

I dislike boda boda riders probably as much as you. But I am the worse person for helping more get on the streets and I make money from them. It is not a fortune but it is something.

“I have been working for about four years now. This is an idea I came up with when I had been working for three years. Though I was paid at the end of the month, I earned wages, so I did not earn a stable amount, which made planning for it hard. But even then, I knew the range.

Regardless of that, when you have an accountant father, saving money is inevitable especially if you have a job. It does not matter that you do not know how much money you will have at the end of the month. So, I started saving after my second month at work - July 2009. I earned Shs250,000 in the first month so I decided to save Shs100,000. That left me with little money, but my parents were still paying my hostel fees, tuition and also gave me pocket money. I only needed money to transport me to work from the university and back - what I remained with was more than enough.

Saving even from a small salary
I continued saving Shs100,000 every month for a year. And by the way, that should not make you think I’m a disciplined person financially. I’m not. I’m an impulsive buyer who even takes shoes and belts on credit. I know my weakness so I placed a standing order for the bank to always deduct the money as soon as it gets to my account and place it on another account. When it is not on my main account, I cannot use it. After a year, I had saved Shs1.2m.

By then I was working so hard and earning about Shs500,000 a month. So I started saving Shs200,000. I did that for a year and by the end of it I had saved Shs.2.4m. The sum on my account was Shs3.6m.

Two years later, I graduated and my parents stopped helping me financially. I moved back home so I did not have to spend on rent and bills. But the rest of the things like lunch, transport, air time, clothes as well as leisurely expenses are on me. Since my expenditure increased, reducing my savings was inevitable.

In July 2011, I reduced my saving to Shs150,000 monthly. It left with about Shs300,000 to spend. It was not enough so I had to live on a tight budget. I continuously battled with the urge to reduce my saving. But my accountant father always calls to ask if I’m saving religiously and even asks how much I’m saving. I do not lie to him so I maintained the amount I was saving.

Reaping the benefits
By July 2012, I had Shs4.2m on my account. I then decided to go back to school and attain a Masters Degree. Thankfully, my parents agreed to pay Shs2m of the Shs3.8m I need for tuition annually. So I have to come up with Shs1.8m yearly. Shs900,000 was to be paid in four months. I had no other money on me so I withdrew Shs600,000 from my savings and topped up.

I remained with Shs3.6m on my account. Since I had to spend on tuition, I knew it was time to make my savings multiply. I searched far and wide for a business idea and failed. Everything that I came up with or was suggested to me needed too much attention from me, which, with work and school, I knew I would not have. Besides, everyone thought depending on an employee to take care of such attention-requiring ventures was a bad idea. I needed something where all I had to do was invest the money.

Then one day, as a boda boda rider was taking me home, he started whining about failing to raise enough money to give his boss. He said he was riding it on a loan basis but had not paid for three months because of personal problems and now the initial owner wanted to take it. And that there, was my eureka moment.

Getting into the boda boda business
I remembered that earlier, a boda boda man had asked my mother to buy him a motorcycle to ride on a loan basis but she was hesitant. I told my mother that I was interested and she helped me do a background check on him. He had been running a number of errands for us in the past and he seemed trustworthy.

He knows me and does not take me serious so I asked a friend of my mine to act like he is the one interested in buying him the motorcycle. When it was bought, my friend wrote an agreement, signed and lectured him about payment and all. So, as far as the boda boda rider is concerned, though my mother receives the weekly pay, my male friend is his boss. Sometimes he calls him to report me for taking too long to give him the book where he signs to indicate that he has paid.

How the ‘loan basis’ arrangement works
We agreed that he will be paying me Shs70,000 a week for 20 months and there after he becomes the owner of the motor cycle. The fuel and maintance costs are his responsibility. So, in total, I get Shs5.6m at the end of the 20 months. Since I bought it at Shs2.8m, it means every month for 20 months I get Shs140,000. He is still paying and will continue till about April next year, after which it will be his motorcycle. Thankfully, he has so far made his payments religiously.

Of course, it is little money but since I do not break a sweat to get it, it is okay. My plan is to buy as many as I can so I can earn more. There are so many young boys that want to join the boda boda business but cannot afford to buy the motorcycles and would therefore be happy to get an investor.

The biggest challenge
However, not all of them are trustworthy. A few months ago, I was able to identify a second boda boda rider that has also started work with a second motorcycle. Since I bought this one around the time when motor cycle number plates were not available, it cost me Shs300,000 more than I bought the first one. If all goes well, profit from this will be Shs2.5m.

I have also identified a third young man that wants a motor cycle. He turned out clean, and started riding in April, 2013. It is becoming a hobby of sorts but the future for boda bodas especially in the city centre where they are most profitable, is unclear. There is no doubt that I will have to think of another way of making money. Wish me luck.”