Diary of a Broke Kampala Fashionista

Diary of a Broke Kampala Fashionista – Part 12

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Kampala born Kirabo has a knack for fashion, and in another life she was born in New York City. She dreams of going there, but is too broke to even live on her own. She lives with her elder sister Mutesi, who treats her like a child because she spends and acts like one. The weekly struggles are all (unintentionally) fashion related. She narrates her story of trying to realize her dreams while sliding in tips of how she gets by looking like a million bucks on a very slim wallet. She interns at a law firm in Kampala.

See part 1 here, part 2 here, part 3 here , part 4 herepart 5, part 6 here, part 7 here, part 8 here, part 9 here , part 10 here and part 11 here.

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There was a lot of tension at office today. It was the final hearing for fine Kiiza’s case. This lawsuit has drained most, if not all the energy I had when I began interning at this firm.  I’ve always been looking forward to the end of it.

Meanwhile, probably because of this tension, my crush, Kiiza has also been drifting away from me. I thought we had this special unspoken connection where we’d lock eyes at specifically mutual moments, or when he’d be explaining about something and looks at me the whole time, as though explaining it to me, not the rest of the team.

As if that wasn’t enough, my bubble was burst when Birungi came erupting towards me only to whisper, “I think Mr. Kiiza likes me!” Imagine seeing all the hope that you didn’t know you had getting shattered. I even looked down as if I could see it and try to trace out the pieces.

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“He does? H-how do you know? I know you Birungi with your stories”

“I think so! Can’t be sure, but every time he walks by my desk, he gives me this wink and whenever we cross paths, we have this small cute banter that you only find in movies. He always smiles whenever I enter a room that’s why I have been extra helpful with the case even if I wasn’t assigned to it, and and- “

“Breathhhhe…”

She was really excited and describing things that I thought were exclusive to just me, I can’t even properly explain how I felt. Jealous? Hurt? Stupid? I mean, who was I to think he just wanted me because I was a stunning being. Our chemistry felt too electric to be replicated. I guess he has extra electricity to pass around. I don’t even know if he is single or not. For all I know he could even be married, but like those married guys who still look happy and don’t wear rings because it’s a “sign of possession” and he is progressive like that. I DON’T KNOWWW! Anyway, I put on a smile and encouraged Birungi, “Maybe he does, time will tell”

As she walked back I saw Boss Lady striding in through the reception area with a mile-wide smile on her face and an accomplished look on her face. Behind her was none other than Kiiza, who looked tired but relieved. He had loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top of the shirt so he looked disheveled in a sensual way. I swallowed hard. This is odd; clients usually part with their lawyers after the win, they sort things out later. Why is he here?

I was uncomfortable in his presence, knowing what Birungi had told me, so I promptly stood up and made a beeline for the restrooms. I needed to process my emotions, which were oddly all over the place. Did I still want him or not? Was I angry? Could I just calm down? Part of me wanted to head there and take enough time for him to have left by the time I exit. When I tried to make my stealthy comeback from the restrooms, I finally heard the ruckus outside die down, I was met with an experience that felt too much like Deja vu. He was walking right towards my direction as I tried to step out so I couldn’t pretend or run back in. I had to handle this like a hard guy.

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“Congratulations Mr. Kiiza!” I said with a big fake smile .

“Please, just call me Kiiza,” he replied, happier than was necessary, compared to what I was feeling

I remained silent, looking him in the eye to try and gauge what was happening in there. I definitely don’t have the girl balls to ask him. He broke the silence,

“You know Kirabo, ever since the first time we met out here, I haven’t been able to quite get your face off my mind. The girl with the crazy hair.” I felt my cheeks heating up and had to tuck my lips in to stop myself from smiling, he probably used this same speech on Birungi and lots of other girls.

“Anyway, I couldn’t leave without thanking you in person, for the help you have offered my case, and would love to take you out for a drink to celebrate, if you don’t mind”

WAIT. WHAT???!

“Uhmmmm.”

“Please, just once. Think about it. I’ll be at the Brisk tonight. Would love for you to join me”

I couldn’t believe what he was saying. Was he asking me out on a date? Or it’s strictly business? Why am I overthinking this, just ask him already!!

“Is-is this like… a date?” I asked

He half laughed as he confirmed, “Yeah Kirabo, if you want to be straightforward about it”

My heart did the Shoki there and then. It flipped over and went into the Gwara Gwara.

“I’ll see,” I retorted with a cheeky smile, well knowing I’d be there, just late enough to make him believe I wasn’t going to show up. And I knew exactly the dress I was going to wear. When I took it to the tailor a couple of months ago I specifically assigned it this role. I needed my face to be framed with jewels so that he can properly see that I’m a stunning young lady. I hate that he’s a flirt but I couldn’t resist him, a fact that I hate more.

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The purple dress just hugged my body perfectly, and it was that beautiful length right above my knees, that when I’m walking had me looking like a decent young lady but when I sat would rise innocently to a height that would emphasize the thigh power I was wielding. I managed to sew in the flat stones in about an hour after I got home, added a pair of nude strappy sandals and headed out knowing I looked like the type of girl you never ever want to lose.

……………

This is the end of Vol 1

Cover photo by William Stitt on Unsplash

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