The story of moi'

“.......I turn my head east; I don’t see nobody by my side.
I turn my head to the west; still nobody in sight
So I turn my head to the north, swallow that pill that they call pride.
That old me’s dead and gone but the new me will be alright....”

The room is dark. The only sounds that your ears can “think” about are the bats that seem to be flying around. There is barely any sound, no light and there is a smell that chokes your throat. You want cough but then you can’t. Your are scared that you will pounced on by a dark, red eyed wolf or a sharp toothed vampire that is waiting for dusk to be extended. You look around, confused and now all you can hear is your heartbeat. You speak to yourself but you are saying nothing to yourself. You try to touch the wall and all you feel are cobwebs.

You dare not take a step ahead, you start walking backwards. But because you can barely see anything, you get lost. More darkness, this time there is a smell of blood. Thick and fresh. The floor starts to get sticky and you can only wish it were a dream. You rub the eyes, so you could wake up, but then you realise its real.

“Move backwards,” a voice says.

But you are scared. If you move backwards you will be gobbled up by the creature that sucks life out of humans.

“Move forwards,” another voice says.

But you do not know what is ahead. There could be another life sucking creature. You however realise all that went in, moved backward and life was sucked out of them.

You need to decide before it’s too late. A choice has to be made. You can smell thick blood if you moved backwards, but right ahead of you, nothing. You do not know what is ahead. You wait. Ponder, watch and pray. You move forward 3 steps. The wooden floor creaks. You pause. Move one step back and then 5 ahead, through the leaking roof, traces of light.  You want to run, as you begin to run the wood crack and you sent crashing into the floor. Below the wood is hole. You hold on onto a piece of wood, pull yourself up and get back to the floor.

“That was close,” you say to yourself.

As you move forward, the light increases. There you are. A door. Quickly you hold the handle, move it down and the door is stuck. You do not have the key. There is no key. Hands to your hips, head facing down and you are breathing hard; you watch the large metallic door. Then you ask you self how you got in.

“Bingo,” you shout.

You had used a key to get in. So have to use the same key to open. You check your pockets, pull out a key, push it in the door, twist it around and the door screeches open. The light is vast. Open and filled with a beautiful world. The challenge is how you get into this new world and get to live the life of your dreams.
 ...................

This is the story of my life. Now that I have joined a totally different new world of different expectations, the challenge is greater than that which I have been through.

Another Ugandan graduate

Dreams have come and others have passed by but I am still alive.
The next few days remind alot of troubles a child but then its a moment
I will cherish and live to rememeber.
On Friday this week I will be yet another Ugandan graduate.
Yet another one who will looking for the ideal job.

So please leave a message after the  tone.  I will not be available for some time.

~DEEEE~

BHH. And again I miss.

This is terrible. Am going to miss what would have been very first BHH.

So since I pondered on what to do while am on the bus on my way back from

my beautiful dusty home town. Gosh I wish I had traveled yesterday.......

Why not a poem to keep me having a reason wait for the next UBHH.

Cant wait to read the blogs of those who will and have attended.

This one has no tittle

Its red September
The sun sets over a
deserted waterfall,
The birds fly in the shadow
of the setting sun.

And there you are
Pondering.
Its a boring evening.
And you think.
Oh how beautiful.
And you think again.
Did I realy deserve this.

The beauty around you
is vast.
The birds, the flowers, the slow, sippy, flowing
stream with white ducks swimming on the surface.
This picture cant seem to get off your mind.
You appreciate. Then you try to enjoy the beauty
and embrace it.

But when you do, you are resented
and you tell your self:
This tree should have left me a leaf,
This flower should have left me very scented petal,
This white duck should have left a feather that you would
watch all morning,
This water should have left you a gentle flow
that you would watch you image,
And these birds would keep singing that
you would even dance.

A reflection that doesnt lie.

Some stories are very hard to tell. The explanation for this is that are ashaming, sad, horrific or even emotionally terrible. When you wake up in the morning look at yourself in the mirror, you see a complete person. One that could read or write. You can converse, ran around the compoud and most of all you have an education and knowledge.

At times a story becomes beautiful becomes you are emotionally involved, it touches your soul and evokes the tears from your eyes but all you do is watch. In many ways I find it hard to explain a story because it just has no explanantion. It is a lack of words, insults or diction that create a brain freeze. When we say we are noble, we hardly know what it means. When we make a difference in someones' life and appreciated we feel some pride. But what about when we claim we are being noble yet we are robbing in daylight and cheating.

I write this post while sitted in round house overlooking a lovely soft sipping waterfall. Its hush sound creates an urge for me to keepwriting. So I think hard as I try scribble down the event that had sucked me out of my skin. I felt a cold chill each time I persuaded myself to write something down. I would watch the birds and could hear them sing. I would feel like asking them,

"Why you always singing? Dont you have troubles?"

The chill would sweep in and I would then gather the courage because the skies were begining to ramble heavily and I knew that anytime the heavens would open and rain would just pour out. Quickly I begin to scrible down something.

Its a tale of a school started to help kids with special needs. A school designed to give hope to these unfortunate gifts that God hath set forth on earth. When such a school is set up you desire to believe that they are going to make a positive influence in these childrens lives but to your shock there is nothing to brag about. The school receives heavy funding from Donors and the Government. It clearly deserved to be very prestigious. The horror that sent me into disgust and anguish is that day when  we decided to go visit the school and see what happens. What I saw pealed tears out of my eyes. I watched this cook bring pineaples for these kids to eat (it was lunch time). They all sorrounded him like hungry lions, and instead of telling them to sit down, he poured them on the grass and you should have seen the swarm of kids eating from the grass.

The story gets worse as we notice the kids stink, the hair has a brown coating and the clothes look like the color of the earth. It is obvious the special needs centre is not worth it. In the compound is Water Tank that was donated to the school a year ago but upto now there is no water. A few hours later, (suck it up guys suck it up) a bell. The kids gather around and the  H/M tells them to start singing. Ofcourse they can. But one would wonder why you would ring the bell just to make kids sing.

It turns out "Muzungu" is around. Some british vistors had come to see the special needs school, so they take pictures of these children and leave a huge cheque on the table. Making money from the kids? Yes. The H/M will parade these kids and make them look stupid so he can get funding. But where does this money go? To him and whoever is in charge. He will boldly tell you how the school has no money to even set up a tank.

And then the rain. I will have to conclude this before the rain wets my paper. Its too windy and the ducks floating on the stream have disapeared. The drizzle is patting the leaves around and drop by drop the ground begins to get wet. I ponder and ask myself
is society a true reflection of what its government is? At times am prompted to say yes.
The rain is here.

.......................
This week I got my final results(applause) and grad is next week on 2nd. I need cake. I love Chocolate or Marble cake...

....................

Listening to:

Asa's music......

Smoothie for you....

I could have posted this on sunday night but I could not resist holding it back. It did not meet the minimum blogging standards. Before I could start typing and punching the keyboard I had to go through too much traffic. I was subjected to a security check and told to keep my hands up in the air or else I would be shot point blank. Then as the detector (avira antivir) was checking, a stone and then the smell of burning tires. Quikely I ran for my and set myself somewhere safe.(quarantine). And then finaly after all that I clicked publishand booom. The blogpost went to drafts. I scheduled. The reason I sheduled was because I was subjected to watch Federer be cleaned up by Del Potro at the USOpen. But how he got beaten up by a 19year old, I dont know.

Backspace
The previous night while doing a tennis show, I abused serena Williams. "Woman better get your manners back, Kim is back and she iswhipping your (then the teeeeeeeeee sound)." I was whisked off the show and suspended by the radio station pending investigations. Well serena lost to Clijsters who went on to win the
title the next day. Atleast I know I wasnt wrong.

Tab
(Fingures stuck on the keyboard wondering what to type next). Those riots in Kampala well I happened to have been whiskedaway before things become hot.
"How could I miss, How did this happen to me, I hate it when I miss drama," I said to a friend
"What did you miss now?," He said
"the drama in the city and now I have to tweet," I replied
"What did your father tell you? Stay away from politics and this whole love for journalism. Its risky," He said as he handed me to three novels. The bourne betrayal, the spies of warsaw and The scarlatti Inheritance.
As I am trying to offer a reply then My message tone on my Nokia 6030. (twi-twi-twi). The message is from UTL and they have comfirmed my tweeter ID and now I can begin to tweet on UTL.  There was some information freeze until UgInsomniac and rk kept twitter updates. How cute. All went well until.

Hold on wait.
And Del Potro wins the Usopen. (that aint a funny joke). I cant give comments on my radio show because I got suspended (I was charged for abusing the person of a great tennis player. Serena williams)

So then I remember when I was a producer and could sing. I used to love one great song "Coz I gat high, coz I gat high." so then Last Night at the VMA's( I was there as Kanye) as the rookie taylor swift is accepting her award, I hustle and puff, grab the mic and:

" You know what, Beyonce deserved to win the award not this blonde looking chic."

Bang. I had dropped it. But then I remembered its "coz I gat high on benzene mixed with cocaine ice cream and a marijuana smoothie."
Oh sorry Baz, aint no such With victoria in victoria in Sychelles. And sleek remember to tell the grandkids what you used to drink please help me find streetsider, in this prison its kinda dark so I need some light. In this prison I was able to still write something for yz to read. And lulu a question: Do you ever listen to UBC radio Blue channel? some guy called GNL Zamba, GNL enzamba(get him fired). So then UgGal, I could take you out for Ice cream, Normzo is babysitting. By the way I can also make a rolex for those I do not want to mention here. Heaven, you still freaked out? TRP am so sorry about the post that disapeared.
Just realised this post is too long. Umm please if anyone can locate SERAKALZ.(she went of the radar. Did she get fired?)

And then you should have an emotional me apologise on the Jay Leno show. All this was after I realised what I had done.
"Am sorry taylor swift, Anything I can do to help you, you are so talented,"
Well its so sad that after the events last week in Kampala there is no-one willing to be responsible. Someone to get up and say
"I screwed Up and am sorry."

Disclaimer: I never listen to UBC blue channel, I was just tunning and heard this guy say GNL Enzamba.

Quote: Boldness is a mask for fear, however great - John Dryden

Reading: The spies of warsaw - Allan Furst.

Hate it or Love it. (the riots that suck)

"lock the gate now or you'll get shot," she said
As the sound of deafening gunshots rocked around the place.

"Am running to akamwesi, the tear gas is in my eyes ahhhhhhhhhhh," She wailed on
the phone as I tried ask to get home pretty fast.

The rioters
"We are even ready to sacrifice our lives for the kabaka. This government has done alot
to suppress our Kabaka," one lady said
(Chanting the Buganda Anthem. Ekitiibwa kya buganda)

When Heaven wrote something about things getting out of Hand because of the kabaka issue
it looked like perceived reality. The one they call the unseen reality. Riots around the
city of God. People got scared. Guns, fire and tear gas rocked the city.
These scenes are not of those of people yearning for a country but probably for
those who have their interests.

The outburst which at the Daily Nation in kenya was referred to as riots by "Buganda
Mornachists" come with realism befitting the politics of Uganda. The riots which
were somewhat long overdue and yes the Kayunga issue might have been on of the
causes but this that we saw wasnt at all appealing for the city of God.
So who is suffering. The President is in Enttebbe ummm the Kabaka is
probably seated in his Lubiri pondering on what should happen next.
"What have these people done?" he says or
"This is cool."
Well whatever happened in the city is not healthy for business but
for the politics of Mengo, probably they believe they have scored but
this aint the way things are supposed to be.
Whoever they are fighting for is not the Kabaka, it is probably more tha that
which we dont know.
He is getting a massage in Mengo or sipping orange juice but his heart could pounding so
hard that we could feel his heart beat.

"this will not be allowed.... U have no right to intimidate anybody," the president himself says.
He says CBS was inciting the violence and telling people to storm the police stations. Well, culture vs
politics, it is. He is the one who restored the kingdoms but now the Baganda loyalists believe
he is doing more harm than good.
By the way on UBC radio last night he sounded terribly angry.He says that the mengo officials have
breached part of what was agreed on paper by the gov't and mengo.

Instead of Rioting for things like corruption we brace ourselves and riot for the one person
whose interests are not for this country. Just imagine a demo against NSSF. Imagine workers 

decide not pay NSSF money for like 5months......... Do these people even love this country? You see 

thats why they cant teach partriotism in class.

Over and Out.

Raindrops...

Rain drops gently fall to the ground. They form little spectacular splashes. Gently the skies darken like a night in harlem. The splendor of the rain lets its self create the hush sound. The water flows and touches the dry ground. The scent of the wet-dry soil arouses the desire of one to pluck out the soil and let it down the throat. But you wait. The rain increases like the stones rolling downhill. The soil gets muddy and disgusting. You do not want to look.  

I recently travelled to the one place I call home. There is this amazing gift God sent us. The boy is around 8years. His story is horrifying. The boys mother is a psycho, dumb and deaf. But despite her situation someone took the pleasure of satisfying their sexual feelings on this woman. She got pregnant and gave birth. Apparently there is no man who could accept responsibility.

"Which man can even get aroused by such a woman," they'd comment.

She gave birth but who on earth would let her look after the baby. Well it actually worked for her. She never even had the time for the baby. It was about time something was done. The mother would wander off and comeback late in the night. The baby almost passed on.

The boy at 5months was almost the size of tooth-pick was taken by a good samritan who has proudly looked after him. The boy has lots of energy, he runs around the house and well the bad thing is he can't speak clearly and struggles to read and understand. Recently he was taken to a special needs school and they couldn't help. The teachers  would even do some work for him so that we would be impressed he is proggressing. They were lavishing in thy dimes.

Sometime this week someone sent him a Playstation 2 and said its my responsibilty to teach this boy how to play. Well i've tried and I must say it ain't easy. I've been trying to teach him some simple maths and english. Its very challenging. When I started tutoring him I declared to my guardian.

"The special needs school is reaping you off. Just do what you can from home."

She took the advice. I must say the maths and english aint going well but the PS2 is doing just fine. 

The boy despite his being different brings joy to our family.

Just like the raindrops make that difference on the soil. We too can me the difference in people lives. Just make sure you do not impose that difference, the other person may not like it.

Not cool being the wife

In life there is always that wish to have a family. To dream of a home with Kids dashing around and calling you Daddy or mummy. How about the wife who will wake up and kiss you on the cheek and tell you how much she loves you. How wonderful.

Its very understable how a wife will love the husband and even bare with him and look after kids she never produced. Right before this man met the beautiful wife he had relationships with two other women and got kids. Well a few years down the road he gets married and the wife kindly takes on these kids. How sweet, how kind and how noble. 16 years in marriage and then the unexpected. This same man brings a 13year old boy.

"This is my son, would you kindly take him up?" he says

"Did you ask me before you brought him?" she replies

Well the damage had already been made. She took on the boy. Life moved on. The man is married. Well he will wake up at 6am, get to work and at 10pm he gets back home. How amazing life can be. When he gets home, they kids ran around trying to find his drinking water. He doesnt want the T.V on and then shouts at them. By the way the sons have to untie the shoes. No offence but this is extreme. And then the weekends, he will say he is going to the gym at 10am and then will get back at 1pm for lunch. At 3pm he will go to the gym and get back at 10pm. well what a life. The wife swallows and takes life as life. She talks to him but there is just no change.
He never has time for the children but when one performs poorly he will first punish the kid and then make them read til' death. He is ashamed of his child when they dont perform well in class.

"Are you even my child?" He will ask


Then oneday the wife gets a phone call.

"Hullo, is your husband home?"a caller asks

"Who are you?," she asks

"Woman, your husband has a 1year old kid with our daughter,"the caller says

This is not all. She finds out there is also an 8 year old kid with another woman. What would she do? She comfronts him and all he says is:
"I would like you to Forgive me"

The irony is he never lets the daughters out of the gate.

Stay. Dont leave

I watch
I wither
I lose Hope
I look flawless

I am light
Like a feather in the wind
I am far away
Embedded in thoughts
The thoughts of a crying heart
Bleading tears
Beaming with claws of a broken heart.

I dream
Of that life
That fantasy
That forever stays within
That forever glows like a twilight
I look at the skies
The stars talk
A language I understand
A language of the shooting star
I make my wish.

Its the full moon
I make the same wish
Its my birthday
I make the same wish
Its a new year
I make the same wish.

Please stay with me
I say
Don't let me go
I hope.


Disclaimer:
Please check out this blogger. Quite interesting.
Click Here

Finding God

Waking up on sunday, we all think about church (Atleast for those who think about it). On this particular sunday it rained heavily but it didnt affect any of the plans that I had. Normally I attend 3pm service somewhere near State House. But this sunday was different. There was something that wanted me to go and pray. Well on the cold afternoon I desended onto the doors that are always open.

Smiling faces were all around, people talking to each other and my body went cold.
"I this my kind of audiance," I said to myself.
I still held on knowing we would soon be engaged with the conversation with christ.
Praise and worship now came up. Thank God for the projectors, I was able to read the words of the song.
You know the feeling that the church is that refuge, that place where one is freed? This I never felt. There was tension. I was scared of the people who would watch me and whisper to themselves.
"He does not even know the song." They'd say this while gigling.
This has happened to me before and that was the end of the service.

Back to that sunday. So the time for engaging with God through worship. When Eizzy talked about being born again she had reasons. Well some of the worship songs played were really engaging. The words touched my self. I listened and I felt something different. Something like a voice. This is what it told me.
"Change your ways son, change your ways." Thats all I heard.

The worship was soon over, we prayed and then waited for sermon.
The preacher was attacking me. It was like all he said was about me. It may sound so cliche' but I felt this guy really knew me. Not that am that terrible but he brought to light some questions i'd want to as God.

So now the alter call.
There was silence, this silence was totally in my mind. People around me were singing but I could hardly listen amd hear. My legs trembled, I felt my neghbour was watching me. Fact is I didn't care. I wanted answers.

"Give me confidence God, please." The confidence didnt come. I waited and it failed to apear.
When Nevender posted something about cell, I was reminded of the events of the day. Who will help me grow spiritualy? Which fellowship will I attend?
A tough decision it still remained. At times the people around you need to help you grow spiritualy but are they ready to welcome that new person in their family.

Unbelievable that the people I met, no-one asked me whether I was an engaging christian. I just taleked and smiled, no-one noticed I wasn't happy. There was no encouragement for this soul to make up his mind. The soul slowly glided away seeking for answers, the answers that can be provided by an empty church. I went back sat down and told God.

"Don't let me go, I need answers"


Listening to:
Don't let me Go - The Fray
Lithium - evanescence

After campus Memoirs Vol.1

Who wouldnt want to brush off some dust after 3 long years of hard earned education? Well after my finals on a wednesday, I partied from that night, thursday and friday.

Wednesday:
After making noise, giving goodbye hugs, (unfortunately I never got any peck. It was so annoying) and getting shirts signed(celebrity status) I decided to go out and treat myself to a very expensive meal. I disapeared into this cozy restuarant and treated myself to some oink oink. While I watched athletics. Then I thought what about the blue Label. So I drank two tastefully different blue labels. I went back to my hostel at around 1am and guess what I found. A house party. Alcholism I said to myself. I realised there was no soda and people getting rub-a-dubbed. I took cover in my sheets. I wasnt ready for the unexpected.

Thursday:
It wasnt a brutal hangover but I woke up a great man. Feeling releaved and happy. The morning wasnt fun. You know HTML (you must have seen it somewhere if you are a blogger). Well I tried posting on my blog and I kept on getting errors. It was so annoying and pathetic. Now the night. Which is always cold and chilly. For three years we had a discussion group that was wonderful. 5 boys and 6 girls. It was a cute group.

Back-space

I had fallen for one of the girls in our group in my first year. I got a no from her but we stayed friends.

tab

So we dicided we needed a small party. We had chocolate cake (not the hotloaf one with too much blueband. Just give me a call if you want the best cake), ice cream, mob soda and food. Later in the night we headed to Steak out for my favourite nights. Rock night. (effendy's rock in the park was my best). The great thing about this night was these girls had never been out at night so what I climax. Apperently I was let down by steakout rock that night. Pathetic. Too much rnb and hiphop.
The whole place was packed. MUK people especially the freshers. The girls got bored so they went to blue haze....(former cheese bar) and well there was local music and a handful of people. Their playlist was:

Alina Potential
Ayokya ayokya
Mr dj
kawonawo.

Well I had too keep close to the girls. Didnt want anyone messing around with them. Ohh then something happened. One of those sleek moments happened to me. I was standing outside, sending a text. And then this girl aproached me.

Girl: Hi....
Me: Hullo (As I sipped my blue label in a glass)
Girl: I think we've met somewhere.
Me: Sure? I dont think so. Normally my memory is that good.
Girl: I think you were at Kigezi H/s
Me; Yes
Girl: And you are McKeith
Me: Ofcourse. (A cold chill in my body)
Girl: I was in s.1 while you were in s.3. I do not think you would remember me.
(she then introduced herself)
Me: Wow pleased to meet you. How could you remember me?
Girl: Well you are still that sweet young baby you have always been.
booom she had dropped it. I felt terrible.
Me: Thats why am the most handsome guy around.

I hestitated like emi to get the phone number. I knew the next time I go for rock night i'll see her. She was cute though.

Then I also met this guy who stole my first girlfriend. He smiled at me. Well I did talk to him. He bought me a blue label, its something like 3k. Well two hours later I bought an energy drink for him. Its around 5k.

At around 6am we left. A night with less rock. I was annoyed. (I'll try the next thursday)

So what!!!!!

19th August 2009 17:01:00

“Pens down,” the lecturer says

I put mine down recalling the last word I wrote in the exam.

“Life” was the last word. I slowly crawl off the chair with my script. I hand in. I ran outside the room, hands held high, looking to the skies.

“It is finished,” I say.

Re-wind

It’s now only a few days and the life of a man at university will come to an end for the time being. Three years ago a young man joined the elite at university. His choice was he wanted to do a journalism degree at Uganda’s most prestigious university, Makerere. He was only offered IT on government. Boldly he said no (because he realised IT was not what he wanted to do. Not his calling) and left for Uganda Christian University where he did mass communication. The time had come and he had to start staying in his own room and meet new people. For three years he did this and lived the University dream. For three years he survived. He got all from his father and he never wanted to let the family down.

He fell in love and fell out of it. He was rejected twice. He still lived and never let this get too hard on him. He met new people, influenced and become special to some. He would get broke, feed on buns, chapatti and even go hungry at times. Still lived on and never gave up. He went out, danced and drunk water, soda, Vodka and beer. Still he read his books, remembering the words of his father.

“My son you are going to school and I do not want failures. I have paid everything, now go make me proud. You have a name and reputation to protect.”

These always echoed in his ears and they always stuck around and kept him reading hard, harder and harder but with some little fun.

At times he would look depressed and life would knock him down. He did not die but he lived on and on. He got “kyeyo” during his holidays. He was exploited and at times paid but he atleast kept a smile on his handsome face. However the scaring part is yet to come. The future!!!!

The pressure is on from all around. He must find a job. He won’t be receiving any pocket money from his parents; he will have to pay his own rent and then will have to get married. The latter being the least of his ambitions right now. He believes things will turn out great but he is scared how. He hopes he doesn’t become a politician and then join the queue to lead the country, he would not join the army even if he is desperately looking for a job, he would not become a call boy to offer late night services because he is broke and he will not accept to be offered a job because he is the son of you know who. He will patiently find his way and get in because of merit unless otherwise. He patiently holds on to the hope of nation building without joining politics. And the hope that lives on in him will see him through.

Flashback (The year 2000)

9 years after secondary school, my O-level school has finally bought a school bus... At 200m with personalised number plates. I contributed 20,000/= every term from S1-S4. The bus could have been bought even before I left. We had some corrupt H/M at one time. Guess what? I was part of the revolution that tried to have him prosecuted. Well proudly I was part of a bloodless strike, requesting for social justice. It became highly unsuccessful; I got expelled and would be escorted by police daily to do my final O-level exams. I was short but the H/M accused me of being influential (I normally did the talking). There is a time we carried a petition against him to the RDC and Education Officer. I was the one who did the talking. Atleast I knew I was part of something beautiful. My relatives were not proud of me at the moment. Why? Because I got expelled and they all thought I would intoxicate their children with evil thoughts. But only I knew the reason. I was imprisoned for the fight for freedom and social justice. I never received a medal but atleast am proud I of the milestone.

Well early 2007 he was imprisoned for embezzling school funds. I was so happy. Finally what we had fought for had come to pass. Remember the Martin Luther speech “I have a dream”. Well my dream for him to be prosecuted came to pass. But my disappointment is he never paid back what he embezzled. Atleast the school has a better H/M.

Quote:

“Beware of the fury of a patient man” – John Dryden

Threads that divide us(couldn’t find a better title)

We love who we are. Selfishly we believe in ourselves. When we wake up in the morning we tell our neighbour “good morning.” Or we move on, look at them like they do not exist. We smile at every accomplishment, but we become sad at a friendly gesture or achievement. We are a diverse country, we hardly accept the way other peoples’ ways. We despise them. When we try our best to like them we are stopped by the boundaries of pride and superstition that are built around us. We build hatred on issues that are pursued by our selfish politicians and the family intrigues that tend to exist.

We fall in love. But because we fell in love in someone not like us, we are hated and forced to bow away from that who we love. The reasons are naive, based on the generalisations that we have built around us. Our relatives pile pressure on us to find those we share beliefs. Our families claim they are Born Again. Around the church they praise God and shudder for the great things God has done for us. We ask ourselves, why claim the love of God and yet hate the person next to us. Reason: they do not look like us. Why have we become like this.

We sit down earphones plucked into our ears and think. Think about the reason why we may be different from each other, our perception of the world being different from our original background. We watch our politicians draw tribal lines in everything. Helplessly we watch tribalism take centre stage. We dream of a world that although our cultures and beliefs may conflict, we live in harmony and allowed fall in love freely. When we try this, we are considered enemies. We are banished, hurled insults and called traitors of our own people. We fail to believe this. But our own blood will try all they do to make us break relationships with those that are different from ourselves. They impose that which we do not consider fair. We rebel and silently we are left to look hopeless and shameless.

When we try to change our environment, we are called thieves. Not by those who have sold us the land, but by the politicians who desire to separate us from our brothers. We desire to build our lives in a different area but we are met with rejection from a perception of generalisation. We look around us. We love our country as a name. But when it comes to people in the country the love goes away. We love only ourselves.
However some have rejected the tribal and religious lines that divide us. Smiles they have offered, love they give, kindness they pass on and forever they love those that stay around them.

Quote
“We set forth these parables to men that they may reflect.”( Koran 59:21)

New Divide by Linkin Park chorus
So give me reason to prove me wrong, to wash this memory clean
Let the floods cross the distance in your eyes
Give me reason to fill this hole, connect the space between
Let it be enough to reach the truth that lies across this new divide

Politics!!!!!(Patriotic rants vol.2)

Recently I had a chat with some of my colleagues. We looked at some of the global issues. War in Iraq, Iran and international politics in general, but the conversation did not look as passionate until it came down to Uganda.

Gifted by nature
The irony in this is that the advert no longer runs on CNN. Well reason could be the lack of funds to run such a campaign on the international news channel. Well the one reason that can correspond with this ad campaign is that we are probably no-longer gifted by nature. If people can die of famine then how are we supposed to say we are gifted by nature? Politicians are some of the most predictable people on earth. They wait for a crisis and then they respond. But before a crisis they are able to predict there is going to be one. They watch events happen and ran to make all sorts of promises to the dying humans. 34 dead because of hunger!! How? In this country? Something somewhere must have gone terribly wrong.

SUV’s and Luxury
Giving credit where it is deserved is one thing appreciated. BUT, this has gone overboard. Imagine people are dying of hunger and we are purchasing SUV’s of 200m each. One SUV can the region. We proudly watch our appetite for luxuries rise and rise. We forget our brothers and proud members of this country. Where is patriotism? In words? Or its an encryption that means something else? Who has the answer? We watch all these happen. And we only leave things in the hand of Allah and God. Yes some may say its deserved of ministers to have posh cars. But not at the expense of that who is starving. North Korea will starve its people in the name of nuclear weapons. So are we starving our own in the name of SUV’s? Have we normalised death? Atleast Allah (GOD) has given us a conscience.

Negative News
I was surprised when presidents around the SMART partnership in Kampala said that journalists were reporting negatively about Africa. Politicians never seize to amuse. Botswana is one country where AIDS is at its highest. What the other negative thing about Botswana? Nothing? So if politicians put effort to improve conditions in the country. Would they get bad press? No.
Yes we blame the western media for its bias but maybe because politicians have not played their role. The only thing that would attract foreigners to Africa is to look at mother natures’ gift. When Obama called for good governance in Africa we jumped but do you think it sunk deep in our leaders. NO. Corruption has gone overboard that it looks so normal in Africa. Why do you think Obama would prefer visiting Ghana of all countries in Africa? Why not go to Zimbabwe or CAR? Well could be because of reputation, reputation, reputation. Is the media a reflection of the society and government? Who knows?
At the end of the chat with my colleagues we realised that we are not heroes, we may not force change but atleast we would each show we participated in a cause. Mine has been done. I decided to blog about it. How much do we love this country?
My finals begin in a week and then I become officially unemployed. The worst could be yet to come.

Reading:
The Greek Key by Collin Forbes

Friends. Forever.

A suction tube sinks, through his veins and sinks deep to his heart. The dawn is breaking. Brothers sit at the sea shore. The waves slap each other at the ocean coast. He walks towards the ocean. The waves seem to chase him away. They gnarl and grin. Warning him to stay away from the water or they clutch him. The sound of the owl signals a time to sleep. In his room he enters. Sticky notes on the wall. Stories they tell. The wall is yellow. He sleeps but like a dark knight he hardly sleeps. His brothers smile away.

In the dark he stays, pondering and pacing. He has been denied access to his own. A lockdown. He is suffocating. By the air around him that pretends to be cool. He listens to what they tell him. He advises and like wounded chicken he trusts them. The heartless seek to quench their thirst by sucking blood out him. The blood oozes of him, the vampires rejoice and take the opportunity. Through him they have known and met a nourishing and blossoming plant. It blossoms like a winter in full dress; it sustains but belongs to him. It is purple with pink petals, highly attractive, with a bvulagari scent.

They take advantage when he is away, locked in thoughts, deciphering codes and deceptively they reach for the plant. They shut all doors. Tell the plant shut up. Try to quench it. It talks to him, like a worthy and faithful servant. He listens and smiles away. Anguish burns his heart close to explosion. The plant alone talks. Deception wedges rip through the friends’ hearts. Still no-one talks to him. They all smile at him, like nothing happened. Like the plant yearning for the next rainy season, he watches and waits. He acts normal, yet the sting remains in the skin. It rips through the joints and sockets of his body. The dark angel with a black rope riding a heavily black colored horse, smiles.

The raindrops are burning, when they touch the skin it turns red, blisters grow and a pale face turns pink. The life to him is normal. They are his closest friends. His eyes gaze at them with hopelessness. They are in charge of his life but they take away this one plant he owned. Privately they plot. He has no option but to let the blisters grow. He believes “everyman has his time.” But natural justice may take forever. Drench by deception around him, the dagger reaches his heart and like the clouds that form the rain, his heart cries from deep within.

For friends and forever remain two different words.
Quote:

“Righteousness is good character, and sin is that which revolves in your heart and which you do not want people to know.” Prophet Muhammad

Honest answers. A myth?

PROLOGUE
I begin this post with a conversation between a minister and his permanent secretary.
Minister: I want to know the truth Humphrey
P.S: I don’t think you do minister
Minister: Will you answer a direct question Humphrey
P.S: I strongly advise you not to ask a direct question, Minister
Minister: Why?
P.s: It might provoke a direct answer
Minister: Humphrey, are you telling me that the BAE won the contract by bribery?
P.s: Ohh!! Minister I wish we wouldn’t use words like bribery
Minister: What would you like me to say? Brown envelopes? Sweeteners? Slush funds?
P.s: Ohh!! Minister these are extremely and unworthy expressions for what is no more than creating negotiations. It is the general practice.
Minister: You do realise what you are saying Humphrey. I ratified that contract in good faith.
P.s: Ohh! Yes indeed Minster
Minister: And that communicate I issued to the press, I announced a British success won in a fair fight. Now you are telling me we got the contract by bribery?
P.s: No minister
Minster: ohh!! It was not got by bribery?
P.s: That is not what I said.
Minister: Then what did you say?
P.s: I said I will not tell you if it was got by bribery.
Minister: Are you saying winking at corruption is government policy?
P.s: Ooh no Minister that is unthinkable. It could never be government policy. Its only government practice
The body:
As a boy with ambitions for the future. A family. Kids running around. Driving them to school. Ooh and all the good you can dream of. Ok now at the time of finding that who thou shalt enjoy the family life, it gets tough. There is no-one willing to give that honest answer. They expect you to tell if it is a No/Yes. These are some answers from brief excerpts. These were received from the different girls my hypothetical friend has asked out. This guy has never been turned down. I’ll call him Matt.
1. I love you to Matt, but not that sort of love. The other love. I really do care for you.
2. You such a great guy. Any girl would fall for you. Trust me. Even those better than me.
3. Matt. If I didn’t have a boyfriend, then you’d be my boyfriend. You are so sweet.
4. You are like a brother to me. A close friend. I don’t want to lose you.
5. I like you. But it’s just that the distance. I might find another guy.
6. You are so different from other guys. I wish we would be together but I just ain’t ready.
7. Many girls like you by the way. Including me, but it’s just that I can’t. It’s Personal
Conclusion
Who of the seven means NO? It’s so hard to tell. Is No in between the letters? Is there a code in the sentences (Like the Da-Vinci code)? So when does No really mean No and then mean yes. I bet i’d sound better if Matt had gotten a straight No. Matt is celebrated the 2nd anniversary of his No that never appeared day on 17th July. I think on that day he got answer number 4. Well from that day on he has never known if it really meant to be a No.

The Prologue comes from the British comedy series by the BBC. It’s called Yes Minister. (Season 3 episode 4: The moral Dimension)
Yes Minister is a satirical British sitcom written by Sir Antony Jay and Jonathan Lynn that was first transmitted by BBC television and radio between 1980 and 1984, split over three seven-episode series. The sequel, Yes, Prime Minister, ran from 1986 to 1988. In total there were 38 episodes—of which all but one lasted half an hour.

Greasy Wallpaper

White walls are like the open space. They blossom.
Painting images of hope and hopelessness.
He is a young man. Early 20’s. A student.
A smiling face he will always display.
A hungry stomach he possesses.
He is not greedy. It’s forced fasting.
Last week a girl kindly offered chicken and the local delicacy (matooke). Boldly he refused it.
“I don’t eat chicken,” he says. All in the name of proving he wasn’t hungry. Impressing the girl.
Remember that quote “desperate times call for desperate situations?”
He armed himself with a table knife. With his friends they went to hunt.
The prey was in someone’s garden. A bunch of matooke.
Unsuccessfully his friends let him down. Scared they got. Mission abandoned.
Still hungry he remained. Plan B. Boil water and make black tea.
Day one. Day two. Day three. He had black tea. Breakfast, Break, Lunch and Supper.
Dry buns, bread and chapatti act as an interlude.
He spends his lunch break on the internet. He will read a book. “Unlocking the power of your purpose.”
This he says is to get inspiration. Locks himself in his room. Windows media player is turned on.
Loud music. He assumes he has shut down the world. Detached from it he feels.
He missed “Prom night.” He wanted to go. Dry he felt, looked and assumed.
“Where is he?” They all asked. He didn’t pay on time his friends reply.
Others assume since his choice of a date said “NO” then it broke his heart.
He holds the reason to himself.
He works hard. No pay. Gives up. Tries again. Waits for the sunrise. Watches the sunset.
For generations he hopes to live.
Dragged down by his lifestyle. He closes his heart. Denies he can’t love.
Reason: His life is too complicated. Wouldn’t want to involve a girl.
“The worst is yet to come,” he says to himself.
His lifestyle is unmatched. He is envied. Not for his persistence.
But for his addiction to hunger.
He is admired for what a great guy he is. Great he may be.
Little do they know how much suffering he is going through.
His phone has been waxed. Stripped of making phone calls. He tries. Only to be answered
“Yo’ account balance is too low to complete this call.”
He then asks himself “why they have to add “too low”
He wants to tell his father about the breaking news, about his growing problem. Stuck he looks.
Scared he gets. He rarely talks to the father about life issues. He chooses not to. He Shuts up and waits.
Patience, luck and hope. Thats his belief.

This is the tale of a broke chap.

Reading:
Clear and present danger by Tom Clancy

Dusting MJ’s Dashboard

Dusting the cobwebs off the audio tape. In 1995 (I think) I received a gift from my special auntie. It was an MJ audio tape. The only song I could sing was Bad. Honestly I enjoyed it. I have never seen my auntie since then. In the days of primary school I read all the stuff about MJ. I developed some admiration for the guy. He looked fine to me. In the chorus of Bad there is a “line” that says.

“Whose bad?”

I used to think it was

“Whose that?” And I would proudly sing along

Anyone who watched the “black or white” Video would actually agree with me on this one. At my young age I actually thought he was like some sort of magician who could change his face and become a woman. Around primary school and early days of secondary school we would be in small group and the one guy who enjoyed dominating conversations would insist that MJ would change faces. I must admit, I wasn’t sure if he would change or not. I however got confused. I had this MJ picture on my wall and he was black. Then he changed and I saw a different MJ. One who was light and had lost his blackness. Damn I started believing that guy in secondary school. MJ could change faces.

That eventually I got to found out. He was a normal guy who fancied shedding that black skin. Then the Thriller video. 14 minutes of a horror movie. Looked quite scaring. I would only watch it during the day. I got used to it. “All I wanna say is that they don’t really about us.” I enjoyed that Vid. Made alot of sense. There is this other Video where the animals die, trees fly around and blah blah about the nature destruction a great one two. Then “one more chance.” There is the other one where he is chasing this gal and she plays hard to get. Then the UNICEF song. Ok am done here. I watched these on the only TV station around then. Uganda Television.

In secondary school I was interested in dancing. Don’t want to get so deep. I really danced. The entertainment club in my school had no MJ and by 2003 I had taken over the club. I become the entertainment prefect in tightly contested election. Crap crap crap. Lets dust the dashboard. “U rock my world,” the video. This is probably the best video I have watched (Subject to debate). I danced this song with an old friend “Kalenzi” (Haven’t seen him since 2004). Wow we were good. On stage the audience (the girls especially) watched, screamed and cheered. In same year, my last performance we did Smooth Criminal. Boooom !!! stuff was real. Ok I’d proudly thank my choreographer “Owen.” He had taught me the moves in 2002 and he however left the school. Where he moved to he became Omarion in another school . He was a B2k guy.

After that last performance I got back complications. Lost my touch. It was over. MJ lived on. Had his troubles. Developed cult status and I guess he considered himself a demi-god. He went from go-to-going and then gone. His critics will rant but the guy was good. He was an entertainer. A great dancer. Broke Chart records and made millions that he spent. People around him preferred to get his money. He had no-one to talk to. He rose to stardom and disappeared in it. Invincible he thought he was. There is a song by the killers “human.” I love the chorus.

Are we human or are we dancers?

My sign is vital, my hands are cold

And am on my knees looking for the answer

Are we human or are we dancers.

Then the 2^nd stanza goes on to say

Pay my regards to grace and virtue

Send my condolences to good

Give my regards to soul and romance

They always did the best they could.

I could go on but anyway. The guy is dead. He is human (I hope he knew that). Whoever questions the hype then he/she should know this guy was a star. He probably had impact on many or none but he deserves to rest. Rest in peace it is. On Sunday I watched CNN’s Daily Edition and there was a clip from an NBC journalist who said something like this:

“Here is something you will never hear again. MJ has died.”

Invincibility is to no human, we are no dancers। MJ was still finding the answer. At 50 it came and he went. So long and farewell MJ.

Playlist:

Human – The Killers

Broadway – Goo Goo Dolls

Flying so low – Chris Brown

Held – Natalie Grant

What’s my age again – Blink 182.

The little things give you away – Linkin Park

Breakfast – Newsboys.

“Blogger” goes into administration

This rumour has been going on for atleast three weeks. I would like to confirm this by announcing that this blog has gone into administration. The current financial crisis is partly the cause. The new Brain crunch has also been a cause for filing for bankruptcy. We would like to announce that there are issues that led to the crunch.
Toxic assets
This company acquired toxic assets that would not be sold to anyone. This led to “brokenness.” The blog has been making losses. It acquired and accumulated debts. The CEO was the one borrowing and on behalf of the blog he could not sustain it. He had to file for bankruptcy protection. There was a slight credit freeze. The prevailing economic turbulence could allow the blogger to stay in business
Paper planes
This is a brain freeze. The blogger could only resort to using a pen and piece of paper. The paper could not be uploaded on the internet. The blogger could no longer afford the internet costs because of the crunch. The paper was also washed down the washing machine. A brain freeze, the memory was completely lost. It could not be recovered.
Layoffs
The blogger has one brain and it unfortunately had other assignments for close to a month. Apparently the blogger went for further studies and had too much work to do. Course work and over 30 pages of a report, designing a newspaper page, finding a name and running a newspaper, working on my public speaking speech and also working on marketing and advertising reports.
Saving energy
The blogger has been saving energy. Thanks to the lightening and rain the blogger has been able to support the going green cause. The power fluctuations have become part of the bloggers life.
Spam
These are destructions that needed the bloggers’ attention. Twenty20 cricket, confederations cup, Transformers: revenge of the fallen, Angels and Demons (the movie), 24 season 7, 2 Tom Clancy books, the apprentice, doing assignments for a brother and then the girl.
Clotting blood
The blogger had his blood clotting after he was told to retake a paper. Apparently he had scored a 38%. It broke his heart. It was unbelievable. He had to move up and down looking for the Professor to probably re-mark. It took the blogger 5months to have his real marks. Only a week ago, his faculty had to apologise for the error they made in writing his marks. 68% it was.
Uncertain future
The bloggers’ future is at stake. He is challenged by the task of getting a job. The hurdles are getting higher and higher. He is only 5feet and something. Reading a Donald Trump biography isn’t helping much.
Blame the blogger or not, it has been a terrible month. In a press briefing later this week there will a bail out in the offing. The blogger will soon return to his laptop and blow the dust off his dashboard.

Reading:
The deceiver by Frederick Forsyth
Listening to:
"Say (All I Need)" by One republic