What if I told you that the grand Sekadama lifestyle in the UAE—the one you imagined when Taata Kikaaba packed his bags and waved goodbye at Entebbe Airport—is not a bed of roses? You thought he would be calling from the top of the Burj Khalifa, making it rain dirhams and promising to send you a Vitz “soon soon.” Instead, your mobile money notification reads shs500,000. Again.

Before you pick up your phone to type: “Oba what did I do to deserve this?” in a mixture of rage and heartbreak, let me break it down for you. There is a very scientific, mathematical and slightly tragic explanation as to why your Sekadama husband is consistently operating at shs500,000 levels.

Welcome to the Sekadama economy

Unless your dear husband left Uganda with a bachelor’s degree and a LinkedIn profile full of connections, chances are he joined the elite league of Sekadamas—our hard-working menial labourers who keep the wheels of the UAE turning while earning just enough to survive.

On average, a Sekadama earns 2,000 dirhams, which is equivalent to about shs2m. In Kampala, shs2m may make you feel like a small boss, but in Dubai? My sister, that is pocket change. Here is why.

1. Accommodation: The shared struggle

The first thing that swallows Taata Kikaaba’s salary is rent. Forget the Ugandan luxury of single rooms and rentals with compounds; in Dubai, your husband is probably sleeping in a bed space. Not a room, certainly not a house—just enough space for a bed.

A tiny space in a room packed with decker beds can cost him shs500,000 per month. And if he is a show-off (you know the ones who wore cologne even in Senior Four), he might be renting a partitioned space for over shs1m. Yes, even Sekadamas have their own versions of social classes!

2. Food: Forget Rolex; this is survival mode

Food is another hungry lion devouring his hard-earned dirhams. Cooking for yourself is an option, but Dubai groceries are not your Kasubi Market giveaways. On average, a Sekadama spends shs400,000 on food. And that is if he sticks to the basics. If he falls for those life-changing KFC ads on his phone, he might even spend more.

3. Transport: Pray he catches the bus

A Dubai bus card costs roughly shs100,000 per month. But that is only if he has perfect timing. If he misses the bus? Ah! The alternative is a taxi, and taxis in Dubai are not like the shs3,000 boda-boda rides you take from Kyebando to town. A single unexpected taxi trip can cost him what he earns in a week, bringing his transport expenses closer to shs200,000 per month.

4. Communication: Wi-Fi is NOT free

You might think all Sekadamas enjoy free Wi-Fi as part of some grand UAE bonus package, but reality hits differently. Either he is paying for Wi-Fi as part of his rent, or he is using his own data, which can cost up to shs100,000 monthly. And that is before he even calls you on WhatsApp to receive your lecture about his financial negligence.

5. Personal care: Even Sekadamas must smell nice

Soap, toothpaste, deodorant and a little bit of cologne to keep his self-esteem above zero—these things do not come cheap. On average, he will spend another shs200,000 just to look and feel human in the land of the rich and famous.

The grand total: Where does the money go?

By now, you might have already done the maths, but just to paint the full picture:

Accommodation – shs500,000 (or shs1m if he has big boy syndrome)

• Food – shs400,000
• Transport – shs200,000
• Communication –shs100,000
• Personal care – shs200,000

Total = shs1,500,000 (and that is for the miserly Sekadama). The big boys spend way more!

Sekadama life is hard

So, Maama Kikaaba, before you complain that the shs500,000 is too little, just know that he might not have even sent a single coin to his own mother! If he still sends you anything at all, love that man—and pray for him.

Now, go enjoy your ka money in peace.