When Kampala floods, it does not just rain, it rebrands. The city turns into Venice with potholes, and traders become accidental swimmers.  With the recent pours, downtown officially joined the list of water bodies. For the traders, though, it was not funny. Years of savings and loans ended up floating down Nakivubo Channel.

One woman was seen scooping water out of her stall using a plastic basin, another just sat on her counter, staring at her bales of soaked jeans like she was watching her own financial obituary. In a city where every day is hustle day, the floods were a cruel reminder that sometimes, no matter how hard you hustle, you cannot beat a bad system.

KACITA, KATA, and FUTA have since petitioned KCCA, the government and Ham for compensation and honestly, they deserve it. It is not just about lost merchandise, but negligence. The city collects trade licences faithfully but cannot guarantee that your shop will not double as a swimming pool. It is like paying for gym membership and finding a bar instead. Same energy, different disappointment.

KCCA’s ED has now called for emergency funding, even proposing the $18m loan from GKMA-UDP be reallocated to fix the drainage systems and compensate traders. A solid idea, but you and I know the Kampala timeline; committee formed , report drafted, workshop held, allowances paid, rain returns then another committee.

Even engineers are sounding alarms. They warned that the redevelopment of Nakivubo Channel without proper studies could lead to catastrophic consequences. My friend, if what we are seeing is not catastrophic, then Kampala must be rehearsing for the main show.

Yet, not all hope is lost. Remember Queens Way? The Japanese came, built the flyover, and took flooding with them. But until empathy floods City Hall the way rain floods downtown, traders will keep drying jeans on boda bodas while waiting for further communication. These are not just flooded goods; they are flooded dreams and in true Ugandan spirit, we still show up the next morning, sweep the water, and open shop. Because in Kampala, resilience is the only thing that doesn’t get washed away.