How much does sex cost?

Well that depends. On the time of day. Whose asking. What the ‘guest’ is after. If your kids school fees are due. That turns into between 50 and 1000 Ugandan shillings they tell me (a few cents up to fifty cents), that is, if you’re not looking to spend too much time there. The councilman turned to me and said, you know these women get very rich, see they are fat and healthy.

Hmm. It was the only answer I could muster. The calculations cranked slowly in my head, from the surveys we’d done these women have sex with between 10 and 40 men per week. My math skills have never been spectacular, but that’s not much above extreme poverty as an income.

We had slipped through narrow muddy alleys that morning, the stench of chicken manure permeated everything, apparently this is where you get all things ‘chicken’ in Kampala. Crouching through a low door jam, down a muddy hallway, puddle hopping across a tiny courtyard surrounded by doors. Women in various outfits, most quite simple. All of them with different hairstyles, the diversity of hair extensions in Kampala is truly spectacular. In general most of the women had slightly lighter skin, many had scars across their arms and legs. We were at three different ‘houses’ during the day and the women warmly welcomed us. It took some getting used to. Of course we’re used to pausing the survey when a woman has to go grab some tomatoes to cut into her sizzling pot of onions, or sometimes serve a customer some cassava, or a chapatti. But instead we paused so the women could slip off into a room to do their work. They were generally quite jocular and at the second place we visited, after doing three surveys and teasing each other back and forth they planned a joke on the next client that came in about how much the mzungu would cost. I just had to laugh along with them, the alternative was crying I suppose.

All their stories were different, some had finished secondary school, others could not read. The majority of them had children, a few were married still. Several of them had received screening for cervical cancer, something the majority of the women we’ve talked to had never had. And all these women used condoms every time. No question.

They were hard working women. The only time I glimpsed apology in one of their eyes was when we asked about religion. She said she was a Muslim. Veronica, the research assistant paused. Muslim? But your name isn’t Muslim.

She looked down, embarrassed. Well, I’m actually Pentacostal but you see… her voice trailed off. Veronica just picked up where she left off, putting a hand on her arm. You are what you are, and that’s just fine. It seemed a profoundly affirming statement.

There are many things in our world that are heartbreaking and unjust. But we live our lives everyday, able to live in our broken world without it crossing our minds. We sterilize our lives, separate our daily living from the realities of so many. Whether in Vancouver or Kampala. But when it is thrown in your face, when it happens as you look into a woman’s eyes, you can’t just turn around and pretend you never saw it.