Let me tell you something straight, with no sugar and no filter.
To be attractive and smart, you don’t need to dress indecently.
I never saw my Jjaaja Deborah Nabirye Naidoo.
I never saw Maama Rebecca Naidoo.
I never saw Mummy Agatha Nanungi
walk out of that house with their bodies on display.
Clothes covered them well. Head high. Shoulders back. Dignity first.
That was beauty. That was power.
You didn’t need to shout. Their presence spoke.
Today, in our society,
You find a mother walking with her daughter and her son—
all of them in see-through clothing.
Backside flying like the Mountains of the Moon at Mount Elgon sunset.
Why?
Why are you laying before the public a body lined like the roads from Tirinyi to Pallisa?
Potholes, curves, and all—for everyone to drive on.
It’s disgusting.
It’s killing our society slowly, one scroll at a time.
You say, “It’s what they wear in Europe and America.”
Those countries you’re copying are too hot to wear clothes sometimes.
So why don’t you copy their winter fashion then?
Where they layer up, cover up, and still walk like queens in fur and wool?
No.
You only copy the part that strips us naked and calls it freedom.
And don’t act surprised when the consequences come knocking.
That’s why we have so many rapes. So much defilement.
We trained the eyes of young boys to hunt, then we blame them for seeing.
Basudde warned us. He sang it 25 years ago.
“In 2 generations, women will be doing public nakedness shows.”
We laughed.
Look at us now. The prophecy is on our streets.
WHO DO WE COPY?
I wish you would copy Maama Janet.
I wish you would copy Maama Nabagereka.
I wish you would copy Hajjat Naka of Sembabule.
Women of weight. Women of covering. Women whose name comes before their body.
Even Eve—when she sinned—had to put leaves around her waist
to make Adam look for the fruit she hid.
She understood the first law of value:
What is valuable is not displayed. It is pursued.
A LESSON I WILL NEVER FORGET:
7 years ago. My office.
My secretary walked in.
Clothes speaking louder than her CV.
I stopped the whole room.
Looked her in the eye and said, “Gladys. Go back home. Change. Come back decent.”
In front of everyone.
You know what happened?
Gladys changed.
Ever since, she wore dignity.
Today, Gladys is a happy married woman. With kids.
Because someone taught her early: Your body is not a billboard. It’s a temple.
HERE IS THE LEARNING:
A mother builds the character of boys and girls for the next 50 years.
You can’t see fruit that sweet without peeling it first.
God gave us the picture.
I eat liver and kidney—but I have to slaughter and skin the goat to enjoy the roast.
If everything is already open and raw, what’s left to work for? What’s left to honor?
What’s left to call “mine”?
THE KIFUUTA ORACLES AT THE SHRINE SAY:
Covering is not oppression.
Covering is strategy.
Covering is legacy.
Covering is what Jjaaja taught. What the Oracles taught. What the Bible taught.
The day we remember how to dress like we have something to lose
is the day we start raising children who know how to respect what they see.
Dress like you’re going to be remembered.
Not like you’re going to be scrolled past.
As the Oracles of Kifuuta, Kyotera, say:
“Tema omutuba ofilwe olubugo.”
Cut the mutuba tree to lose the barkcloth when you have the hide.
Prepare. Cover. Protect what is valuable.
Because dignity is not old-fashioned.
Dignity is the new luxury.
