Clubbing with David

David is Doreen’s brother. He runs an electrics shop in Kegyegwa, a small village near Miryante Orphans Home. One day whilst we were at his store charging our computer – we had to go all the way to his in order to do this due to the fact that we had no power at the home – we got talking about clubs. David, it turned out, was a keen nightclubber and regularly frequented Club One in the nearby town of Mubende. He asked us if we would be interested in going, and a date was set.

So Wednesday rolled around, our penultimate night at Miryante, and we were getting ready for our big night out. We’d been to lots of bars in Uganda, in Jinja, Kampala and Fort Portal, but had yet to experience a true Ugandan nightclub so didn’t have a clue what to expect. Claire and I had our usual bucket bath, put our glad rags on – which essentially means wearing jeans for the second time this trip – and jumped in a taxi to Kyegegwa arriving at David’s store at 8. We then jumped in his car, topped it up with fuel, and were on our way to Mubende.

As we approached the town a gigantic searchlight was darting across the sky. “That’s coming from the club,” said David. Now we were excited. More clubs should make use of this feature. It was like a huge bright beacon in the darkness.

We arrived in the town and before heading to the club we went to a local bar. I asked David what it was called and he said that it didn’t really have a name, but was referred to as ‘Total Bar’ due to the fact that it was next to the Total petrol station. We had three or four beers there, sitting outside in the warmth of the late evening, in darkness. Turns out their power was out. Claire made the point that if the nightclub wasn’t using the entire town’s electricity resource, then perhaps this bar would be able to put the lights on. After an hour or so the power did come back on and we were treated with some American music, Claire was pleased to hear a bit of Mariah Carey blaring out of their speakers.

Whilst at Total Bar, we got chatting to some other guys and most people were talking about one topic – the recent election, which was won by the previous president Museveni. Everyone we spoke to said that they voted for Besigye and they were all talking of the rigging that went on at this year’s election. Apparently some entire districts’ votes were not added to the final results, conveniently from areas where Besigye had a strong hold. It was interesting talking to these guys about the situation, and some of them seemed very distressed at their nation’s future. One of the people who we got chatting to was the local District Commissioner. He was incredibly pleased to meet us, so much so that he demanded we went to visit him at his house so he can welcome us to this area. “Unfortunately,” we said, “we’re leaving in two days.” He was not put off by this and we have now agreed to one day return to Uganda and go to his for dinner. Seems like a long way to go for a dinner invite, but I guess we could visit the children at Miryante again!

After a few beers we hopped back in David’s car and made our way to the shining light that was Club One. David sweet talked the door staff and got us in for free and we went upstairs to the ‘VIP section’. It was, it turned out, very similar to most nightclubs in the UK. A bar at one side, with a raised dance floor in the middle and seats and tables dotted around. The DJ was spinning some music, but there weren’t many people around. Claire and I had been keen to visit the main part of the club, the downstairs area that was not reserved for VIPs – a ‘VIP’ essentially being anyone willing to pay the extra few thousand shillings to gain access to the upstairs part of the club. We didn’t want to hang around at the top, we wanted a genuine experience, we wanted to be below deck in the Titanic dancing on tables with Kate Winslett and the Irish. So, after a beer upstairs, we made our way down below.

It was heaving in the regular part of the club. People were everywhere and everyone was up dancing. We spent the next few hours dancing the night away drawing a fair bit of attention as the only white people in the club. We even got a shout-out from the DJ, and Claire attracted the attention of one young lady who danced with her for most of the night. I also got high fived, a lot.

By 2.30am we were knackered. Having not drunk for a couple of weeks the beer was making us a bit tipsy and the heat had sapped us of all of our energy. David asked us if we were tired and then offered to take us home, or so we thought. In the end he walked us to his car, opened it, sat us in the back, made sure we were comfortable, and then went back for another half an hour of dancing. After he’d had his fill of the dancefloor David came back, hopped in the front and we made our way home. The drive was about supposed to be about 45 minutes, and when we were 15 minutes away from home, we ran out of petrol. The car ground to a halt and we sat there, in the dark, worrying. Luckily, we had run out of fuel near a petrol station, so David grabbed a canister and made his way there getting enough fuel to complete our journey home. Heaven only knows how our night would have ended if we’d run out of gas on one of the long stretches of road that are lined with nothing but forests and hills. We’d most probably have had to have slept in the back of David’s car. But anyway, we made it home, arriving back at the Orphanage at 4.30am, saying hi to Bonaventure the security guard as we stumbled in.