I had planned to use the trip to visit one place that earned notoriety in Mansa district at the turn of the Millennium. It was called Kapampale. Heard that name before? If you have been there or merely heard about it you will agree with me that it is the last name a decent human being would want to be associated with. Prostitutes of different ages, statures, builds and complexions made their abode at this place, next to the sprawling Senama semi-shanty township.
I last visited the place in while on a tour of Chifunabuli Constituency in Samfya district with the then member of Parliament, the late Kennedy Mumba Sakeni. After one or two days in the field, meeting constituency and ward leaders, arranging meetings and distributing sports kits to wards on behalf of Hon Sakeni I would return to Mansa. In the night the driver and I would retire to a budget, village standard rest house to recharge our batteries and plan for the following day.
One of the workers informed me that the place I could see about 60 metres away, opposite the rest house, was the infamous Kapampale. One look at the digs was enough for me to appreciate why it had such a funny name. I was born and brought up in Luapula Province but I had never heard of a place with such an ominous name! What I saw told me the place did not stand for anything that was good. It was a low-roofed, raw mud brick building divided into small single rooms numbering over 20 with small single-pane windows.
A common verandah, which was neatly polished with the red oxide popularly known as fimwandaba have you forgotten me? In the morning, around hours, I saw about four of the occupants sun-bathing outside, in front of their respective rooms after spending the night out.
Two more were washing their clothes at the back of the poorly maintained block, which must have been denied the luxury of a fresh coat of paint for 20 years. Close to the unsightly block was a bar and restaurant of sort, where some of the prostitutes whiled away their time as they waited for the evening. This particular day I was resting. I had not gone to the constituency because Hon Sakeni wanted me to attend an important meeting with his business partners. He had tasked me to set up a mobile sawmill in the Samfya forest, and we were scheduled to meet the prospective buyers of timber later in the day.
