On the streets of Kampala, where life moves fast,  
Two women walk, their hands close but never touching.  
They keep their love behind shuttered windows,  
Where prying eyes and laws can’t reach.

The city breathes around them,  
But it breathes differently for them.  
Where others walk freely, they step cautiously,  
For love in the open is a dangerous thing.

A glance, a brush of fingers,  
Could be enough to bring the storm.  
Yet still, they walk these streets—  
Together, in defiance of the world’s decree.