#neighborsfromhell

Having first lived in the leafy neighborhood of Rubaga (like I remember- I was only a year old!!), then in a block of flats -the first time it was in an affluent neighborhood near the sacred State House in Nairobi. Next, we moved to a nice place with a nice school nearby, which we attended. The holiday program was made up of waking up at 9am, eating breakfast and playing with the neighbor's kids the whole day.
There were Sales in the neighborhood nearly every weekend, and we enjoyed sifting through expatriates' stuff for golliwogs, story books, puzzles and nail polish. They did Sales when they were leaving the country. (Mum even got some sheets, sets of plates and drinking glasses which still exist today- after more than 30 years!!)
The next place was more away from town, but at least we had a nice bungalow shaded by trees and a nice big garden. The neighbors were not so friendly at first and we did our very best to keep away as they labelled us "refugees". Slowly, they got used to us, but we never let them into our compound because their kids were very naughty and mispronounced our names.
As we progressed into adults, we began to realize that neighbors can either make or break you, and as you choose where to live, whether in a rented apartment, a muzigo in Korogocho, a comfortable bungalow in Kololo, or in your own country home, that one of the things you need to mindful about is---- who your neighbors are.
Hmmmm.... they come in all sizes, types and colors. But this is one important lesson I have learned over time.

When I came to Kampala, it was to a two-roomed "apartment". This was where I was to live for the next six years. The buildings were brand new, the only neighbors were three other families with younger children and we all minded our business, only stopping to say good morning and whatever other greeting like “Gyebale ko!”. Not bad at all except that there was a teacher with thin legs who called her sister all sorts of vile names, and caned her for every little "misdeed". The beatings could come at any time. Unannounced. On a Sunday morning when we were still in bed; in the middle of the night; in the presence of her visitors- she did not care. And it was amazing to see how nice and caring she acted with the nursery school-kids whom she taught.

I never quite got used to her cruelty but what took my mind off her for some time was this buck-toothed woman who moved in next to us. She had a family of eight children, including two girls who were over twenty. And they all squashed into the two small rooms. With her younger husband (obviously not the father of the older children). I marveled at how they did it. Did they sleep on the rafters? Or among the several buckets and basins? She supported her large family with a salon business, which I soon learned, expanded to my verandah when I was not around! That woman made me so uncomfortable. Mama Large Brood.

But this discomfort was nothing compared to the mad man who shifted in a week after Mama Large Brood moved out. He swore at his girlfriend's two children (who I think, were born about seven months apart). He screamed at them, he insulted the girlfriend, who by the way, was pregnant again- with his unfortunate soon-to-be-born child. And when she was not there, he brought prostitutes home. He loved to sit outside his house and sing Philly Lutaaya songs loudly while washing his clothes and splashing water all around like a duck. And he was always strutting around shirtless while being chatty with the other neighbors who annoyed me so much because they were trying to be nice to a monster. Mad Man had an old cassette player that always played the same songs (like the broken radio that it was) and it was always on full blast. I don't remember how many times I asked him to turn it down, and one day when it was too much, I walked up to his door, opened, and turned the blasted soundbox off myself.
All hell broke loose then.
I shot him an array of carefully picked very colorful words, curtly informing him about how fed up of him we all were, but that the others were too weak and scared to tell him, and that I would be their ambassador. He threatened to shoot me and I shouted at him to "bring it on!!".
And the foolish neighbors peeped at us from their windows not daring to intervene. Keeping quiet.
And the landlord, the mite that he still is, did not say anything even when I complained bitterly.
The last straw was when I discovered that Mean Teacher had fallen for Mad Man's shirtless torso, was cooking his meals and was even keeping his house keys.
God freed me from my cross, when Mad Man was arrested for posing as a police officer and fleecing a taxi driver of several hundreds of shillings, and his picture was posted in the local newspaper (and which someone cut out and stuck on his front door).
I had had enough and my hunt for a new place to stay took me miles away. The new house was more spacious, the area was very quiet and I had my very own space and privacy. I have no immediate neighbors but it seems my landlord has fallen on hard times and is taking in all the riff-raff. Sometimes I pray that they destroy the fittings in his houses before he finally discovers that much as you need the money, you also need to guard your investments well. And getting the right tenants is just one of those things.

My list of Neighbors From Hell is long. I am not distancing myself from this list, because to others, I may also be a Neighbor from Hell.
I have tried (and failed) to determine who tops the list, so please identify for me and choose.

Neighbour who minds MY business 
This one, just like the description above, has no business of hers to mind. They are so interested in what happens in other people's homes, and not in a nice way. They know what you ate for supper, despite the fact that all meals are prepared inside your house, in the privacy, and safety of your kitchen. They know when you have defaulted on your kids' school fees payments, and how you have begged the headteacher who has refused to listen to your pleas for clemency; they know how you use Omo to wash your hair, and how your bathroom floor is cracked. And they have worked hard to see that your maids do not stay. This one abuses your children; she is always looking for a fight, however hard you ignore her; she sits inside her house the whole day cooking up her next line of attack on you and your children; the veiled insults she directs at you have since been unveiled, just because you have refused to give her attention. This neighbor makes the environment so wrong.

Neighbors from other lands
These arrive by the lorry-load on an hourly basis. Very anti-social, sticking to themselves and refusing to mingle and be neighborly. They consist of very many women, an even bigger number of young men- mostly teenagers who wear thin made-in-China trousers. And then an uncountable number children who do not wear pants. Mucous runs from their noses. Dark and dirty. The teenagers like gathering at the side of the road in the evenings, listening to a phone radio, speaking at the tops of their voices and calling their relatives in Sudan. In Dinka and Nuer dialect of course. Sunday mornings are so ruined by the younger children who play kwepena, while shouting and arguing so loudly that you can think its a marketplace run by young 'uns. I think they call me Mama Bitch because I take no prisoners- chasing them away and telling them to shut their little traps and go and play elsewhere. The big boys used to move away from their houses in the area in which they were herded and gather outside my gate, chattering away. Once, twice, thrice- I told them I would pour dirty water on their heads if they returned. They are so filthy, spitting endlessly and sweeping and pouring dirty water into the road. Free advice-when you live in an organized society, please try and fit in and remember that when in Rome, do as the Romans do.
(And surprisingly, they have penetrated even the more 'affluent' neighborhoods- Ntinda, Kiwatule, Najjera- the children playing loudly in the road in their bare feet and cheapening the place. Ugh!!!

Neighbor Who Has No Regard For Anyone (NWHNRFA)
This one is found mostly in flats. They light a sigiri in the corridor, just a few feet away from the staircase. So, there you are enjoying breakfast on Saturday morning, newspaper and remote in hand, and suddenly, the smoke appears from nowhere and you start choking.
This story was told to me by the neighbor who lives in the flat just below NWHNRFA. That they once left the taps turned on and went on a work trip for the weekend and the water suddenly decided to reappear in the middle of the night. This NWHNRFA lives in the top flat.. So water gathered and you know how it needs to find an outlet when it floods. It seeped out the doors, into and down the walls. Lower Neighbor told me that the water was seeping through his power sockets, dripping from the ceiling and perforating the walls. And when NWHNRFA returned from his sojourn, he acted like everything was alright, saying cheery "hellos", and did not even apologize to his distressed brethren who incurred huge costs to repair and replace their destroyed household equipment.

Big Mouth Neighbor
A special type. Mostly female. Stay at home mum. Once kids are dispatched to school, her wandering eye and equally-inquisitive mind has all the time to dig into the business around her. She knows who is harboring 30 illegal immigrants in their house, what disease that old man is suffering from (courtesy of being a part-time nurse); who stole who's television set and mattress and fled on a boda-boda; who was a prostitute in her former life; where that neighbor who drives a Premio works, and what time he wakes up. Eh! And when she accosts me on my way back from work, I know I am done for, because she can gossip for an hour-plus. And it is not helped by my character which forces me to feign surprise at her every statement. So whenever I return early, and just before I turn the corner near her house (which is strategically placed to net any unsuspecting victim of her lugambo) I reach into my bag, take out one of my two phones, switch it off and put it to my ear. I tell you, I am forced to start acting- holding a conversation- which normally goes like this- "Yeah, okay, let's see what we can do, yeah, okay, let's see what we can do..."- with an imaginary person. It IS that bad! And this type will probably tell others about you and how much you earn. I recently bumped into her as she came up the road, and she told me that I no longer like her. Whatever!

Neighbor Who Comes Back Late
This one leaves the gate unlocked. And his car is always blasting local Luganda kadongo-kamu music. He usually arrives at midnight or thereabouts. When he has noisily unlocked the gate which he leaves open after I struggled to lock it, he drives in and parks outside his house. Then he opens the car doors and bellows "Lodgerzi" (Luganda for Rodgers), about five times before a sleep-ridden Lodgerzi emerges, rubbing his red eyes to open the door for his master. And in the midst of the bellowing, the car radio is blaring kadongo-kamu stuff and this could go on for 20 minutes. Poor Lodgerzi then starts to ferry the stuff his boss has bought, into the house. Bunch of matooke, kaveera of milk, loaf of bread, paper-bag of nyama, five onions and two green pepper bells.

Neighbor who doesn't greet neighbors
This one has moss in her mouth. They pass you like you don't exist. It is like they are a love rival of sorts. You speak the same language, and you know you do, because you have heard them talking loudly on their phone and calling to their little child who likes to play in your house. But they never greet you back, even when you offer a smile. The first day they came, you wanted to welcome them and give them some welcome buns, but their standoffish-ness makes you back off. On the positive side, they make it easy for you in the mornings, because you can, without any pinch of guilt, pass them in your car, standing at the bus-stop on a rainy day. You just purse your mouth, rev the engine and roar off.

Neighbor who fights and beats house girls
Big Mouth Neighbor first told me about this one- that she comes back very late. On a bodaboda. And she tells the bodaman to "first wait" till she has entered her gate and then into her house, bolted the door woken up her children and said 'Hi, how was your day?' first, before she shouts to the bodaman to go away-" Kale genda!"
Then her little sister comes to visit. She is nice to the kids, very cheery, brings them cookies and nice clothes and shoes, cuddles them, and tells them how much she loves them. Fighter Mother as usual, has had a late night. One day she woke up grumpy, started yelling at the kids and took offence when she asked one of them to pass her a slice of bread. Next thing I heard was the girl (Moleeni) yelping like a hurt puppy. Then Fighter yelled at her to shut her mandibles. The kind Auntie who was still asleep, was woken up by the noise from the sitting room that was bila chairs, and with her eyes still bleary, rushed to save her niece, imploring Fighter Mother not to beat. But Fighter Mother had cotton wool in her ears. She was not about to let up. She chose to interpret this as her sister daring to question her authority. She reacted with a ferociousness not even seen in a grizzly bear. Bam! Slap! Grab! Pull! Throw! The Fighter Mother was deaf to her children's screams as they witnessed their “mothers” going at each others' weaves and dreadlocks. Suddenly, the strap of Little Sister’s black nightie snapped and her boob popped out, out there for everyone to see.
Fighter Mother now like possessed devil moved in for the kill. Her fingers tugged at Little Sister’s short black weave and she would not let go. Little Sister was in such pain that her face started to go red. She dropped to her knees but refused to beg Fighter Mother to leggo. There was so much noise in the house. Fighter Mother was grunting, Little Sister was whining, Moleen and Mimi were bawling out their little lungs. And the maid came to the door to try to explain to all and sundry how things had gone out of "hands".

Neighbors!!

What kind are you???