Jun 29, 2010

For the cause of the pink ribbon

On Monday, I woke with flash disk like legs. My legs had become stiff. The stiffness had come in after 10kms of a Marathon I had run on Sunday. Not that am unfit but being the busy person the job has put me through, it had become evident that working too hard had put some extra weight on my belly. The 3 packs which I had have recently been a one sack phenomenon. 

Back to the terminator legs of mine now. I actually did ran 3 kilometers non-stop and my aim was to finish first and get the membership for one year at Kabira Country Club. I wanted the membership to be honest but I could only afford to be a winner if they were rewarding for the first 100m. I was in the lead at that point. I lost this lead to a couple of people who had been practicing for the marathon (Its just an excuse). 
After 3kms, my tongue was out as a hustled and puffed to get my breathe back. The 3kms were composed of a downhill and a straight road stretch. Now you know why the first three kilometers were better than white water rafting. 

At this point I had consumed a bottle on Dasani Mineral Water. The uphill was a challenge, I couldnt keep the pace so I decided to walk. My advantage over some people was that my walking pace was almost a jogging pace of some.

After one complete kilometer of the uphill, there was another downhill, and just like Bekele does it, I did it. I was overtaking people and for this I was very impressed by my performance. Then another straight road stretch. I thought I'd make it but suddenly I felt a rock in my legs. They were heavy and I couldn't lift them off the ground. Another water bottle and then I was back to the walking. 

The build up to this race had drawn up some bitter rivalries with some very passionate runners. We put our arguments aside and decided it was time to race. I needed to beat my friend in this race to prove a point.
With 1km to go I could see my friend about 200m ahead and I told my self. "I can overtake her."
I increased my pace and I was closing in. 150m, 145m, 120m, 100m, 50m and then my legs felt heavy. She had increased her pace. She had finished 55m ahead. Sulkiness engulfed my face as I searched for an excuse for not beating her in this race.

The marathon was for a good cause. It was a charity run so eventually we were all winners. It was for the sake of breast cancer. Some ruthless killer these days. Ugshs13m ($5,663.01) was raised for the cause of Breast cancer awareness. For every runner Coca-Cola Uganda contributed Ushs10,000 ($4.35616). We were 13,000 runners.

The marathon was like the sequence of events of a how detection of breast cancer can be a complicated process. There is this lady I met. She has been diagnosed with the cancer and is now on chemotherapy. Her story is a very sad one.

A lump had developed in her left breast and this was after giving birth to her 9th child. When she asked the doctor, he told her that if it doesn't hurt then its not necessary to look at it. She believed him. But the lump kept growing and eventually the pain started coming. Next doctor. "its nothing, its just the usual breast pain." 
Then another doctor recommended another expert who was apparently out of the country. Then finally she made it to Mulago, Uganda's top government hospital. She went for the first test. No Cancer. Second test. No cancer. Third test. Breast Cancer confirmed but it was too late. Early detection is one thing experts have been advocating for but if the doctor cannot tell then this will remain a challenge.

A minister at the event said people should get married so that the women can check the breasts of their husbands and vice versa.  One can also do self assessment by rubbing around the breast area. If you find a lump then rush to an expert. Don't say I didn't tell you.

And by the way after the marathon I lost some weight.

Jun 20, 2010

News anchor business

I am writing this seated in a bar. Yes a bar. It’s the football world cup. Yeah!! The football World Cup. My but is placed on a blue couch with orange pillows. Am sipping tonic water with ice and lemon. Seated opposite me are lovers. Ok I wouldn’t exactly call them lovers but I think they are. If you were here you wouldn’t deny that. In a green dress with black weaved long hair, she is drinking a Smirnoff. She is facing her man who is in a green t-shirt and blue jeans. He is drinking a cold bell larger. They look cosy and comfy as she keeps touching his chest each time she laughs.

“You are funny,” she says each time she touches his chest.

Away from the two lovers as they have become a total distraction. Am supposed to be watching the football on the TV and so I find myself watching the World Cup again. Then another distraction, a light skinned lady walks in. She looks like she is pregnant. Yes she is. She looks like she is atleast. Goes to the couch sits, plucks a phone out of the bag punches its keypad and then starts talking endlessly. Then she waves at the waiter.

“Windhoek,” she tells the waiter.  Oh how I pity the baby. She is going to speak German when its born. Surprisingly pregnant as she is, she starts flirting with some men around the bar. Its none of my business so I’ve got to watch the football.

A few hours before, I was the news. Yes NTV at 9:00pm. The weekend bulletin that usually has no proper content but I was eager to know what was on the news. On and on I watch. Then at an instant, she keeps skipping and she keeps repeating the same words. A technical glitch? NO!!!! NTV Weekend edition is recorded news. It’s not live. NTV weekend edition is like a movie. If the anchor is not perfect the producer says “Cut.”

“And in entertainment news, Eminem has new album called recovery. On the album he features pink among others. A single from the album “Not afraid” is currently no3 on the billboard top 50. Silk and Wild reports live from…….” Before she can finish the statement the producer interrupts
“Cut cut cut”
“You ok? It’s Sleek and Wild. How many times are we going to repeat this,” producer tells the good looking blond like news anchor.

News anchors even on the best news wires are not always perfect, but when I watch NTV Weekend Edition, NTV eleven there is no glitch. The anchors are perfect. Not cool. This is recorded news. Do not be surprised if you find that even NTV tonight is recorded. I guess they should always place the word recorded in the top left corner.

Someone will argue that they have to offer quality but then how will the news anchor do better if she/he doesn't get criticism from the audience? I don't know. Do you?

Even some of our FM stations have recorded news bulletins. One I worked for, the dude would walk in at 12:30 and go to the recording studio. Records his news piece and then at 1:00pm the news goes on air. We would be having lunch at some joint as he reads the news yet he is seated next to me. It happens on almost all our radio stations. Did you know that Capital FM Uganda also records some radio shows especially during the Weekend?

Some FB comments on the whole recorded news on NTV:
“Ayayayayaya wondering what that looked like. Wat, they wanted to watch the match? lousy..”
“Always suspected that.nt suplised,dnt be shocked one day 2 kol morris on his 4ne &he answers while reading news.”
“Cut the guys some slack! One of their core values is to for once provide quality broadcasts 2 the ugandan audience. Look around at the other local stations live news broadcasts..the erors, hesitations en mis queqes are just overwhelming, Its why they would rather record en give u quality!” 
“the secret 2 being an African & living with minimal disapointment z 2 lower ur expectations o have non at all...”

Brother Nev.. I bend down on my knees and say a prayer for you to get better. The lord has surely answered my prayers.

Jun 7, 2010


 (Mona Lisa (also known as La Gioconda or La Joconde) is a sixteenth-century portrait painted in oil on a poplar panel in Florence, Italy by Leonardo di ser Piero da Vinci)

I have always been dazzled by the way some people are able to express their thoughts and ideas in writing. Great writers that I would want to mention but I could not dare do. The different styles and choice of words used that make one want to keep ripping through the pages of the books. I am great admirer of creative writing that is fully thought through. When I look around me as I type this post, I can see a pillow, a bed and my very impressive super sound hoofers. Loud music is glaring all around my room. I’ve shut out the rest of the world.

A slight flash, and there I see Leonardo Da Vinci painting of the Mona Lisa. Well is my painting authentic? Ofcourse not. It’s just one I downloaded off the internet and just printed in colour after I’d read all about it. The real one is at the Louvre museum in Paris. There is something startles me about it though. The painter for me did a great job. Like the creative writer who will keep me glued to his critical and at times very satirical piece then this painting surely did get me thinking.

Am not artist myself, but when I look at the painting, the lady (Mary Magdalene according to the Secrets of the Holy Grail) looks like she is a studio. It’s like a photo studio, one which does so much airbrushing like the ones that all around us these days. Secondly she was posing, with long and curly hair. Thirdly is that her right hand was placed on the left hand. Then there is something about her smile. It’s brief and to the point. Finally is that I wasn’t there when Da Vinci painted it. For him, it was more than just a painting. It has so many hidden features according to various scholars. Did you know that when you look closely, and divide the face into half, one side is male and another is female? Today this is not my interest.

Just like am dazzled by this painting, I have been dazzled by “Mornalisa.”  I know that the last time I saw her, she had long hair, was seated in a chair and in photo studio. That last time was when I saw was when I looked at her picture in my wallet. In the “Mornalisa” picture, she has a gentle smile and her right hand is placed on the left hand. I look at the picture, because I know we can never be together.
Like I do not have the real Mona Lisa painting, I only have a picture of “Mornalisa” because fate has decided all I can keep is the memory of her. She left. Fate took her away.

Listening to
Hey, soul sister - train