There is always a first time for everything. A procession of more than 10 cars passed by our homestead on a Saturday at around midday in the last century. I thought political campaigns had started not until my grandma told me that there was a kwanjula party in the neighbourhood.

Kwandhula (in Lusoga) or kwanjula (in Luganda) means to declare or to introduce a future spouse to the future bride's parents. Our neighbour best known as Munna but his real name was Daudi Bafirawala Ngobi had eight daughters in eight years with one wife before he fell from a jackfruit tree that rendered him impotent.

It was his first born daughter, Ednansi Kyeyago , who was introducing her fiancé from Kasese. It was my first time to see a Mukonjo. No offence intended but I thought that they had dressed some pupils from the nearby primary school in suits and gomesi. It wasn't until I got closer to them that I realised that some of them had beards, bald heads, and yes, two of the ladies were expecting.

Drama began as soon as the visitors arrived at the kwandhula venue. They found a sisal string sealing off the entrance to the compound but thanks to their height, they just walked under it without hassle. The hosts had to feign ignorance that they didn't know them.

The head of the delegation then asked why they had erected tents and decorated the place if there wasn't an occasion. The visitors were looked at as passers-by, strangers, sojourners and because they didn't know the tradition, they turned and walked back to board their cars. The host's spokesman had to literally beg them to return.

Munna didn't seem to be impressed by the down to earth entourage but had no option because it wasn't him in love with them. Most families feel more comfortable if their children are married into well-to-do families. Other families are particular about religion, race or ethnicity of the marriage partners. Tadewo Bwambale, the groom to be, was a fisherman who had lived all his life swimming and now fishing in river Nyamwamba.

Munna tried sweet talking his daughter into changing her mind saying that she's thrice his height hence struggling to kiss him but wapi. She told him that she had already figured out how she would deal with that.

She reminded him that it is considered abnormal, unnatural, and ungodly not to get married and she wasn't ready to become a Nangoli (unmarried woman).

When both families had established rapport, they start preparing for okwandhula.

The groom's family had to find out what the bride's side requires in order for them to release their daughter. They wanted cows but the groom was willing to give them fish equivalent to the number of cows. The girl's side felt so offended but they somehow agreed on terms and conditions after haggling for three hours.

The paternal aunt, who plays a very significant and respectable role of a go-between the two families made an alarm that attracted the attention of an ambulance that was passing by.

People clapped so hard amidst ululations and cheers. Tears rolled down her cheeks like never before. We were all excited to see the tears of joy. Before we knew it, the ssenga was running back to the house. There was dead silence. She claimed that she had forgotten how the guy looks like so she had to go and consult the bride-to- be. The guys all looked alike in her eyes.

She finally figured out who the groom-to- be was after serious guesswork that the guests interpreted to be a trick for comic relief. She wouldn't have guessed right if they hadn't all stood up when she came close to him.

I sat on a banana stem but before I could comfortably follow the proceedings, my grandma dragged me by my left ear. I knew it was time to go home.