Life went on as usual, with me attending to my affairs here and there. One afternoon, I found myself in the western part of this land, in the heart of Mbarara, where my frequent milk consumption had me visiting the washroom often. You might wonder what washrooms have to do with manipulation, but that's what I'm here to write about.

Feeling unwell, I ducked into a public washroom. The urinals were clogged with big water containers, forcing me to use the toilets. Despite a warning sign that read "Otashesha aha, fayini emitwaro ebiri"—meaning "no urinating here, fine is twenty thousand Ugandan shillings"—I ignored it and did my business.

When I finished, a filthy-looking street urchin and cleaner approached me, demanding a bribe: "Mpereza enkumi itaano ntakuhayo ngu washesha aha!"

This young man had witnessed my mistake but chose to speak up only after I had finished, threatening me with a fine, as if I worked in some corrupt government institution.

His shamelessness disturbed me, and I was tempted to react aggressively, having learned self-defence tactics from my university days. Instead, I walked away without paying him a coin, let alone the initial five hundred shillings for the service.

A Rotten System?

Why has everyone become so predatory, seeking to cheat one another? When did these fraudulent practices, once associated with bigger cities, infiltrate our small, idyllic town known for its rich milk and honey?

Has dishonesty and unscrupulousness become the norm everywhere? If this is a rotting fish, has it not "rotted from head to tail"?