Why House Parties Have Lately Turned Into A Menace For Teenagers

Teen sex is not the core of this conversation; quirkiness is. These young men and women actually carry no protection yet they exchange their sex partners in one event.

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According to the Uganda National Bureau Of Statistics, latest population figures reveal that the largest demographic in Uganda are the youths. Clearly Uganda is a young nation and by any measure, a reassurance that there will be a people in our future to carry on our country’s creed, wealth and national pride. But is it really the case?

In 2012, a community-based survey by UNICEF revealed that more than 12.4% of Ugandan youths under the age of 15 were sexually active. At the same time, according to Uganda AIDS Indicator Survey, as of May 2014, the HIV/AIDS prevalence rose from 6.4% to 7.1%, a development that has greatly been tied to the peaking recklessness of the young people.

Truth is no view must be overruled. As it is, teenagers have taken on quite an array of exotic lifestyles that will even sound inconceivable to the old folk who, incidentally, turn out to be the parents. The latest mischief is group sex. We have learnt that more teenage groups than ever suspected are actively relishing sex amongst themselves without any censorship. This is actually multi-personal sex and it is nothing but illicit and unseemly, all thanks to internet and international TV.

This little known practice is the most likely adventure your youngster is somewhere exploring when he/she gets very elusive, under pretext of unending birthday parties and holiday package discussions at the friend’s house. The big worry is that it is spreading throughout the towns of Uganda like a wildfire. This is no mince of words; this week, I somehow, crafted my way to one of these parties and the scenes were stark shocking for anyone to bear.

These kids are mere adolescents, mostly innocent and naïve. It was, in fact, not that hard for me to convince them that I meant no harm. Farouk [not real name] was, additionally, my ticket in. I only needed to invoke the indomitable two fraternity letters – OB, and I was in.

The setting is a quiet suburb of Nalya in a rather picturesque neighborhood.  Clearly, this is a rich people’s vicinity and that is immediately apparent as you strut into Farouk’s quarters. I was curious of course and spontaneously, I found myself quizzing him where his parents were.

“They are out,” he simpered. Then he blazed the trail. I followed. But Farouk immediately turned back to look at me, keenly, this time to say, “Hey man, whatever happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.” I easily comforted him and he strolled on, heartened.

He was with a set of army-green baggy shorts, several inches shy of the waist and flowing down to his ankles. He had flat shoes in leather and an off-white vest. He was casually costumed as if to imply that he was not the birthday boy. His younger brother was, celebrating 18.

Farouk was three years past teenage but an endorser of sibling’s party and the official host of all the University girls and the entertainer of other oldies like me who are typically gatecrashers.

I was soon dunked into the riotous sound of hardcore rap, off some quite heavy music systems. And I arrived at the party venue, through the main house, to the boys’ quarters. There was TV, to showcase movies, music to bend the girls over, and booze flooding the tables plus extra crates in the main house.

Further scrutiny however revealed that Farouk’s parents were on a weeklong conference in Germany while the house remained in care of a house keeper who this time served fried chicken, to the joy of the “Campusers”.

But even then, the show was yet to heat up until the real cheerleaders showed up. It almost clocked 6 O’clock when these girls began to strut in one by one. When it tipped 7 O’clock it was already a full house, mapped with boys and girls who are mostly teenagers. These were either the party-boy’s classmates, or they met at inter-school seminars. Such as “High School Kadanke” fests and “Buzz Teens Awards” are always simply an icing on the cake.

The sun was now down, and it was time for the real party to start. 16 people in one place should make a major event anywhere. Farouk’s was not about to swerve of its expectations. The six Campus girls were already swamped in lager and, at this point, it is of no consequence to tell who behaved more of a grown-up than the rest. Except the hosts who were careful not to be as tipsy as their “prey”. However, most of the younger girls, being no independent, hostel residing junkies like the campus girls, they were mindful not to drink more beer than soda. So, the plan was to drown them in sex tapes, off a large LCD set, and sanity-hostile woofer beats.

Farouk was the DJ, his little brother cared for the welfare while the rest of the boys posed as the ushers. Everybody knows I am a party-pooper, so I was allowed to sit back and watch the lights go dim on the party animals. The feisty girls immediately swapped their casual wear for the sassy and kinky, short-hemmed outfits. In more than one case, transparent and inviting. Then they took to the dance floor.

I don’t mind dancing but maybe I took too long. The boys ascended the dance floor and I realized how it would have been such a blunder for me to be on the same stage with those teenagers. They immediately got comfortable, and curled onto the boys. These were now turned on but the lights almost died out. And that was the idea – kill the lights to ignite a sex atmosphere.

Sooner than later sighs begin to subdue the music which inevitably should tone down just not to upset the neighbors at night. The scenes are of no nudity yet; these teens are actually gyrating and thrusting fully clothed bodies against fully clothed opposite sex. Dry humping, they call it.

This time, Farouk and his campus men and women, all follow him to his room. I never heard of him again in hours except as he groaned among moans at his door.

This meant to give space to a striptease [kimansulo] that no tipsy girl would be afraid to perform for her boy. When these boys, drunk in such dripping lusciousness, couldn’t take ogling anymore, they get close and begin to fondle the girls from head to toe.

Teen sex is not the core of this conversation; quirkiness is. These young men and women actually carry no protection yet they exchange their sex partners in one event.

Charged by the spirit of porn, these teenagers do oral, dry and penetrative sex, including anal sex and fingering.

At this point everyone is like a wild beast, caring to nothing else but fun. This is bound to create victims.

Betty [not real name] was seen wailing over abuse. Apparently, she had never consented to have intercourse with more than one whooper but several others forced themselves on her and the sad thing is she could not mention a word to her mother who, by the way, should be tired of waiting for her. I think it’s Betty who awakened the rest to the clock bell, up in the living room. It was now 10 O’clock.

I learnt that sex was not alien to any of these partiers because they discuss it day and night over social media groups even as they share pictures and videos. The strangeness many of them meet in these communions, however, especially girls, is the speed at which they’re being introduced to weird sex fetishes and painfully adopting them because there’s no way out. These groups survive on coercion, manipulation and blackmail.

This situation has such a snowball’s effect on everybody in Uganda and it is about time every parent rose to the occasion to save the future.

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