Chamdena Level’s much-anticipated Kampala show will go down in history—not as a musical triumph but as an accidental comedy classic. The venue IUEA Auditorium, meant for at least 3-5 thousand ecstatic fans, barely hosted 70 brave souls, including a chapati vendor, a stray mosquito, and one guy who looked like he wandered in to charge his phone.
The hall was sweltering, partly due to Kampala’s usual heat but mostly because Chamdena wouldn’t stop yelling like he was auditioning for a wrestling match. His shouts, “Are you ready?” bounced off the walls, turning the place into a noisy oven.
The only moment the crowd showed signs of life was when he sang his Thong Monyjang few classics. A few fans half-heartedly vibed, waving their hands as if trying to cool themselves down. But even that energy disappeared when the speakers gave up during “Nyiir Gew song” leaving Chamdena to awkwardly hum the rest of the song like it was a bad karaoke night.
By the end, drenched in sweat and misplaced confidence, Chamdena declared, “Next time will be bigger!” Bigger than what? A family reunion? For now, his career is not just stuck at Chamdena Low—it’s lying down there, taking a nap.
