A CASE FOR PAMPERZONE HEALTH AND BEAUTY SPA; IN KAMPALA

Imagine me walking across the aroma-scented corridors of Pamperzone Health and Beauty Spa on Mulago Hill in Kampala, with a sanitary disposable underwear on my head. It’s been over two years since I looked at the inside of a massage parlour, experienced a manicure or pedicure or even smelt the tranquility of massage bliss. I suggest that my good friend Macu Akiiki, Managing Director of Pamperzone and Health and Beauty Spa, label some of these niceties. It’s necessary for some of us who have been absent from modern civilization in a while. The ‘disposable underwear’ was actually a disposable shower cap; meant to be worn over my shaven head.

I began my last week of February 2019 with the steed of a mother who needed to give herself a break. I’m grateful for the Women’s Getaway that have made a strong case for women to prioritize themselves. I’ll certainly attend the Women’s Day celebratory event at Méstil Hotel in Nsambya. You should too. That and recent discussions with two friends, Joyce Katende and Sara Namaganda, including the constant throbbing of ache and pain on my permanently creased forehead. I knew that my next meagre income would be directed to elevate me from my stupor. 

My stressed out celebral container could only recall the name of one massage; The hot stone massage and with all the money I had, I made my way to Owen Road on Mulago Hill; only two ‘boda boda’ trips from home.

I sucked in my breath on entering the parlour; because I had forgotten how to behave in public. (It’s been that long). Not knowing whether to open my bag as they check for firearms or to show my identity card, a kind lady offered me a seat. I clutched my bag; hoping that the nervousness from visibly appalling manners and lack of self-awareness wouldn’t permeate the room.

From the price list, it appeared that I actually had enough for both a hot stone massage and a full manicure and pedicure. It was time for me to stop concealing my potentially beautiful nails from the world, out of shame. For so long, my nails had been used to scrape away dried mucus from tiny nostrils and scrape away burnt milk from saucepans.

A kind gentleman, employed to work on nails, showed me to a comfortable seat. On displaying an array of colours, I chose the first one; lest I changed my mind and ran out.

It was such an incomparable feeling; having someone fully devoted to the well-being of my toenails and fingernails. I even drifted off to sleep. It was an unusual experience; sleeping without being interrupted by a crying baby or a child tugging at my tired arms; about a nightmare that wouldn’t go away.



Courtesy photo

My sister Louise, a longtime client at Pamperzone, also walked in for a hairdo. Her before and after photos were testimony to the worthy service of this underrated place.

My nails, upon completion, were unrecognizable; from hues of grey and dirty brown to a glowing burgundy. I stared at them for so long; leaving my chicken salad from Chillies in Kisementi, to grow cold.

Then in walked Farida; right on cue to take me for my hot stone massage. There was so much clean linen in the room; a contrast to my own room with a crumpled duvet and diapers strewn all over the place. I wore a spotless white gown and with the Lavendar Radox shower gel, gave myself a clean scrub before entering into an experience of a lifetime.

 


(Images: Internet source) 

Farida had the hands of an expert, knowing which parts of the body needed extra attention, using just enough hot oil on smooth stones to deal with my body’s tension. She spoke with gentle assurance which put me at ease and even gave me confidential advice on how to trim my tummy. I was at home.

The heated smooth stones, which she placed over my body, startled me a bit. I had only bathed in cold water for the last three years; because hot water was a luxury that I could not afford; with my time wrapped around the children at home.

The hot stones jolted me at first; but as the sensation of comfort, tranquility and warmth seeped through my body, I relaxed. In the background, were sounds of my long lost dreams coming to the fore.

The only time I had ever read of time standing still was in the bible. In that room though, all my aches, broken dreams, recent regrets and unnecessary self-criticism dissipated. I was deeply grateful. I was honoured to have had the pleasure of royalty treatment. I held my head higher than I had ever done in the last three years. 

In March, many of us will celebrate International Women’s Day. I will be at the Women’s Getaway at Méstil Hotel in Nsambya. You should too. Their theme is ‘Recharge: Mind, Body and Soul. How apt!

Later on in the month of March, I’ll be honouring the legacy of Babishai Poetry Foundation on World Poetry Day; travelling to Kabale with a great team; for the first tenth anniversary celebration.

Make yourselves a priority; dear women.

Beverley Nambozo Nsengiyunva

Recharged.