I had posted this on #Instagram and it failed to upload, guess that platform can’t allow 250 words as the rules of #UgBloggers7days. I didn’t even copy my work… the hustle, anyway let me try to recreate it.
My frist encounter with Cross-generational sex was when I was 14 years in senior two, just getting to know my body as a teenage.
He was an old man 3 times older than me, he wasn’t only older than my dad but he would have been my dad’s elder brother.
During my second term hoilday, ‘scrolling’ around my home streets, greeting people and saying hello to friends, I met Mr. Kisa (not real name, sound nice to call him that because it’s controversial) well dressed in a nice car. He was happy to see me and excited about how my mother had brought me up. He asked me out to Nandos ( that place used to happen kale, all those nice pizzas) with my naiveness I agreed, it was from an elder I respected and I was going eat pizza.
I told my friends and they wanted in, we went to Nandos. Dude was not happy, he paid but he was not amazed at all. I didn’t care, I had got to hang in a nice place, with my friends who I wouldn’t see for another four months.
Two years down the road I get to hear about the Cross-generational campaign. I was in my O level vacation and the main speaker at this event where curiosity had driven me was Pastor Martian Ssempa. Nigga was preaching it as it was with no limitations.
What freaked me out was when he used an example that felt like mine. Pastor Ssempa said that old men were taking young people out and buying them foods and cool things only to ‘sex them’ and infect them with #HIV/AIDS.
You see I saw Mr. Kisa again in my third term end of year hoildays. He was all apologetic and kind, he even had CDs I could play in my Walkman CD player. He asked for help with something at his house, because I was brought up to respect, obey and help old people I accepted.
On reaching to his house…dude was all over me, I freaked out so much, shouted my lungs out and I think I blackedout.
I had had a bad experience with ‘bad touches’ earlier in my childhood (story for another time). I wake up in my friend’s room. Story is Mr. Kisa’s wife heard me, came to see then called my friend to take me home.
I am greatful that my childhood bad memory saved me from what would be my worst memory. Mr. Kisa died 1 year later from HIV/AIDS and had infected 12 gals, including his own daughters. ( I would have been one too)
Now I have an opportunity to empower young people to safe guard themselves from sexual immortality and abuse, thanks to Reach A Hand Uganda.
Advert; Kaleke Kasome is a song on Reach A Hand Uganda ‘s The Musical Project CD.