R.Kelly lights up Kampala - (What the Editor deleted)

It all begins with the 3months of intensive publicity by Zain. The media frenzy was about the RnB sensation coming to Uganda for a “concert.” The hype was huge that the expectations were not to be under looked. On the night of his arrival we waited for close to 30minutes for the guy to get out the VIP lounge. The security was high that it looked one of those scenes from “24.”

“Concert” day
At 6:00pm I started lurking around the Lugogo cricket oval. The place was jam packed and at all the gates, people were cramped up waiting to get in. The lines for the 30k tickets were pathetic. At the gate some people paid 1k to the guards for them to avoid the queue. On the gate just above Oasis scuffles broke out as there was only one entry point. Pushing and shoving was all that was noticeable. Hell broke lose as policemen unleashed dogs onto the people for them to get into a queue. This was the first sign that Silk Events was headed for the worst. Gun shots at the entry above Oasis restaurant could be heard and the police wrestled with revelers. The gate was then taken down by R.Kelly fans.

At close to 8pm the queues were even lager and the road around Shoprite was people packed. There were no barriers that could make people line, it all looked hasty. Meanwhile inside the local artistes were busy performing (not alongside R.Kelly). At the 250k gate things were pretty calm. So I took my shot and walked to the gate. The Silk Events people said the media could not get to the platinum area. On my press tag were numbers that the organisers wanted us to call in-case we need anything. I dialled each number and no-one picked up.

I then walked down to the 125k gate. It was crowded. The line was equally disorganized and people were haggling to get in. I could see dogs being used to settle people down. At the gate itself people were being allowed in yet they were not in the line.
The concert area was looking rather organised. In the 125k area people were enjoying the drinks and watching the curtain raisers. I needed an angle for good pictures so I moved next to the stage, and then this guy from Silk Events says we are not allowed to take pics. He faces the wrath of other photojournalists who hurl him with unending words. In the end we are chased from the said restricted area.

At 10pm, it was like Vietnamese soldiers attacking the Americans. The people in the 125k area reached for the barriers and instead of sitting they were standing and it all looked like the 30k area. I stuck in the middle of some ladies and hustled to get good shots. All this i’d blame on the ignorance of the guys at Silk Events.
Then we waited for R.Kelly to perform. For close to 30minutes they were still organising for R.Kelly to perform. Impatience grew among some people and other started yelling “time, time, time.” Some started singing the Buganda Anthem. It all came to a halt when the guy finally came on stage. From where I was I could still see people entering. And then in a flash, “Flashing lights – By kanye west” started playing and there he was. R.Kelly started his “concert.” There was screaming, alot of it. There was this lady behind me and she kept saying she couldn’t see anything. I gave way and let her stand in front of me.

I wish and I believe I can fly moved the crowds as they sang along. Than an hour later, the guy said it was over. He said he didn’t want to finish but had to. Leaving some complaining that he hadn’t performed the songs like Gotham city, trapped in the closet, if I could turn back the hands of time, Am your angel and you saved me. As fans had started to get a feel of the music he was gone and left people asking whether the show was over.  “A rip off,” some one said.

Most of the people around me couldn’t believe. Personally I began to question why a “concert” would last just an hour. The people at Zain had told journalists that the guy would perform from 9pm – 12am. This was my problem. Then the Fireworks!!! No-where. The sound system was good but for only one hour and its called a “concert?” I’d gladly disagree.

As I walked around trying to get peoples comments, I meet these two ladies.
“Has R.Kelly finished? Is he coming back,” they ask

“Yes, he only performed for one hour,” I replied

“What, these chaps take us for granted, After my 120k and we get this,” they said.

R.kelly was here from Thursday night. On Friday he skipped a Charity event and then on Saturday they cancelled an event where he would hand over the Range Rover sport to its winner. For three days he is in the country and yet he performs for just an hour?
Silk Events should have done better especially if the disorganisations are visible. The word “concert” was misused. For Zain bringing R.Kelly was great but they should have gotten more for Ugandans.

R.Kelly in town

After disorganizing traffic along enttebbe road in the R.Kelly branded bus,
We finally made it to the Airport at around 10pm. Just in time as the plane was just landing.
We waited at the VIP lounge at the airport (ofcourse we were standing outside).

The security was intimidating as the guys from Pinnacle security dressed rather in very unfitting suits.
The suits were too long for them. At around 10:45, two light skinned come out of the VIP lounge and then squeeze ourselves to get the perfect shop. My paparazzi tricks had to come into play. Random shots and flashes Started glaring. And there he was in black shades, clogged in an army green jacket, with a scarf around his neck and blue jeans he appeared from the lounge. He waved to the cameras.
Then he came close and said.
"am happy to be here" X3

There was alot of screaming and one lady had him sign an autograph. The he shook the hand of another lady
who just couldn't stop screaming.
He entered the Range Rover and in a convoy he left for The Serena.

Concert is tonight. No Video camera's allowed.

From my sister to you

It’s been long

Long since I have a broad smile

The broad smile who have denied me

Denied to me by my misjudegment

Misjudgement that love had presented

Presented in the form of you


Your scented clothes,

The tender kiss you left on my cheek

The cheek I would often present apart from that night.

The night when our lips touched

Touched and shared something passionate


Passionate that it ended suddenly

Suddenly because I wasn’t ready to fight

The fight you almost dragged me into

Into the night you went

Went to desire another person

The person you gladly shared what we had.


We had built all this around us with so much perseverance

Perseverance we had forever promised

The promise at the alter

The alter on which we became one

One that would be separated by death

Death that I do not wish

My wish is for us to have been happy for long

For long now I have to stand by your side

By your side not because am happy

The happiness is long gone but the love still exists


Its existence doesn’t mean it will be same as it was

It was and now it will be different.

Only if I can forgive you

Forgive you for what you done

Remember am your wife and she isn’t.

After the endurance of love, it is now the endurance of being a wife


Poem generated at 00:23 Thursday for my sister whose marriage has taken a twist.




Listening to:


Yo’ Guardian Angel – The red Jumpsuit Apparatus.

Should I go - Brandy

Flying so low - Chris Brown

Self searching Indictment

This silence bestowed in this room is one that I can least savour. The eagle eyed vampire that I helplessly leave to drench my heart cannot seem to get seem to get satisfied. Like the enchanted room filled with the grey smell of innocent skulls, I wait. In the corner is I can see myself. Being crushed and pounded. I want to fight back. I am held back by something, something unseen and slithering.

I cannot cry out. No-one will hear me. All I know is that I can get through this. As the bats hover around and scavengers wait to pounce, I defect to the unseen. A world of glistening colours, creative art and hope, a world I can only see. It takes me back to the time of my youth, the times I dreamt of being one who can change peoples’ lives.

As the flashes of flawless blue light kept gleaming, snapshots of my past were visible. Each time I made promises that I will use the perfect gift that has been offered to me to make a difference. My youth had made a few find a dumbfounding admirations from those that were around me. Growing up, that seemed like it was going to continue. I realise how I’ve been perched into being the perfect disappointment to my own self.

Partly becoming unappreciative of what I do and another taking all the credit. My own self listens to both. It is hard to distinguish between which one is wrong or right. I cannot quite understand where am headed. The marriage of convenience I seem to enjoy is paying off, but still it does feel like what I desire. I have made a difference in one Kids’ life that came to visit me this week. But this is not enough. I feel there is more I can do, more than my desire to promote the demands of the corporate world with the lavish breakfasts, lunch, cocktails and the ever available drinks. This looks to be the “Ugandan Dream,” What more could I desire? I spend sleepless nights on my “Baby Junior” punching the perfect story for publication, but still I feel there is something missing.

It is like I am being denied by my own self. Am helplessly waiting, waiting for the scavengers to have me finished. Just like Africa is watching on the sidelines, helplessly it cannot help Haiti, a nation where tragedy is more common than lunch. Africa watches on, helplessly it has its own unending questions.

I recover from that bliss moment. The vampire is still drenching my heart. I am at this vantage point. I close my eyes and cry out.

“Get me out of here”

The man riding on a Dark Horse appears and the vampire flees. He opens the huge metallic gates of my Cell. I cannot see his face, but he looks ready to have me ready for the perfect human flesh meal. He takes me to the outskirts of the unknown, peels off his face.....ohhh rather his mask. I see his face. I remember his face.

“Do not betray us. You need to make a difference. You have one life. We were sent to help you. Next time you will not have this chance. Go now. You only have one life,” the young boy who was always proud of me says.

He rides away and leaves in the middle of glowing flowers. I look up; the sun is directly over head and very bright. I close my eyes. Then I struggle to open them bit after a few blips I can see.

This is how my heart conflicts with my body.

Inglorious News

He is watching an episode from the CBS series NCIS. Its dark, the sound of hooting vehicles is accompanied by the smashing of brakes from the same cars. He can’t hear these sounds. He is concentrating on the Series. Laughing at Agent Donoso eating agent McGee’s apple and then agent Ziva trying to speak the English language. In one of the episodes as they are at a crime scene, Agent McGee see’s something. He is startled. And then Ziva asks.
“Have you seen a goat McGee”
“Actually its ghost not goat,” McGee says “Do you know a De Ja Vu Ziva?” He adds
“No! What is a Déjà Vu?” Ziva asks

Well this guy watching NCIS just keeps on laughing. The skull loving, gothic and forensic scientist Abby and the Gut driven Mark Harmon aka Agent Gibbs also contribute to the humour. Not forgetting Dr Mallard, he always has a story.
This post is not about NCIS. Why would I review an episode? So as this guy is watching. An interruption. The phone. A message. Its from her. The girl he thought would be. The girl who was yet to make up her mind.

“I’ve something to tell you. It’s not that important but when you find time please let me know.” (The text message).

He loses concentration, fails to focus on NCIS. He thinks, reflects.

“What could this be about?” He asks himself.
He imagines it could be about her telling him that she was now free and was willing to listen to him again. He anticipates. He feels like sending a message.
“What if she doesn’t reply?”  As he dials her number.

He waits. Not nervously but very anxiously. She picks up. Her voice, as husky as it has always been. She sounds very happy to hear his voice. They talk. 15minutes. All they talk about is how the new year is going so far. Then he sets an appointment. Or it should be more like a date. In his mind. He imagines seeing her again. Her smile, perfume (not colgne to be specific) and the intriguing eyes those that hardly give answers.
But then she changes her mind.

“Let me text you and tell you what it is,” she says
“Why can’t we just meet and you tell me?” He asks
“I’ve changed my mind, I’d rather text you,” she insists
They then exchange pleasantries and say goodnight to each other. He waits for the text. He tries to watch more of NCIS. But all he can see is her face.

(((((((Fire flies- owl city)))))))))) (message  tone)

“Am introducing my BF at the end of this month. He is meeting my parents. I just thought you should know.” (The message).
Shocked. He reads the message again and again. Like a tongue stuck on frozen ice, he looks at the message endlessly. He thinks it is prank. Then thinks it is real.
“WTF, why did she tell me this?” as he talks to himself while pacing around the room.
Then he types message. And sends.
“I am happy for you. Atleast you have made up your mind. Have a great night.”

He shoves it off. He recalls the great days. He wonders why she had to tell him.

“I’d rather stick to NCIS. Atleast is gives me a smile. The year should start on the bright side. You won’t bring me down lady,” He says to himself as he turns on the DVD player.

Reading:
“The day of the Jackal – Frederick Forsyth”

twenty 10

It is the Morning Sunrise
He is walking to the hilltop
The scenery is an offering
To those who love nature
He looks around.
He then takes a closer look.

They are like droplets of water,

It is seen on the grass, the flower petals and rooftops.
It can only be seen once in the day.
It gives the grass a spectacular look.

It is a new year. There will not be another 2010.

Utilize it just like the dew does every morning.

 "There is a drop of greatness in every Man"

Its a great pleasure

Expression is free, it is taken on by those who are willing to embrace it.
2009 has been quite an amazing year. The negatives are looming over my afro-brown
hair. But right now  I dont care. As christmas draws closer, Its my turn to give.

Across the street she stands,
watching me.
Am watching her too.
She smiles. I smile back.
Its just the beginning.
After a few full moons.
Its a torrid time.
Remembering is horrific.

The sad stories are many
But the good stories are the best.
The empty spaces I try to fill are the most interesting
The spaces of the good things that happen.
The times when you graduate from one level.
Take a step ahead and become responsible.
The good days have just begun.
They need to stick around. I still need them.

Am now a grown up. Some people look up to me.
Some say I Inspire them. Hard to believe.
But its those people who make me work hard.
This year has been challenging but I have made bold decisions
And weak ones. Weak ones that I'd rather not talk about.
They are embarrasing.
But head forward, left leg in, right leg in. Thats a step forward.
Eventful it has been. From Tiger Woods, Usain Bolt and Micheal Jackson (RIP)
We have had movies: Metals fighting humans in Transformers, we have watched humans
seeking to plunder a planet called pandora in James Cameron's movie Avater.
The resolutions I had made, some still unaccomplished. But will come to pass.
Getting played, used and then shoved into the blender. Those are lessons.
But for me its been a pleasure. Am proud to be part of the community.

And for all I appreciate. As we glide into the new year and christmas. This could be my last post
until 2010. For I appreciate the reading I have done. All those blogs that kept me smiling, thinking,
scratching my head, slithering my tongue, choking because of my own saliva and the list is endless.

Here is to you. lets raise our glasses to (looking around)............ (fill in the blank)

Its been a pleasure.

:-) Merry Christmas and Happy holidays

The patch that seems to stay

Plagued by desire to be what we want be can be eluded by the unavoidable intrigues of this world. As we struggle to live the lives we dreamt of, there is a possibility of quitting. But we believe things will pass and life will go on. That doesn’t stop us from sitting in the fluffy chairs, resting on the rugged mattress and slowly we begin to think about the lives we desire, crave for and believe we live to love. They seem so far away, they have never been closer. We chose to live on, take on what we have and probably we will reach the mountain top.

This is all crap (I can see a no and then in the corner, there is a yes). But anyway, they say we should be grateful for what we have accomplished and then the other one is that everything happens for a reason. This country has very many unemployed youths (I don’t have actual figures), most of them have gone to University and are brilliant. But they remain jobless.

Then there are the other ones who are employed but they don’t love their jobs; this is because they had no option. They were lured by words like “Would you rather be at home or be somewhere no matter the pay.” These and more sentiments remain on the lips of some use. Having a cup of coffee at Javas or pizza at steers or a cold alvaro at mateos and the soccer fever at Just Kicking, you can’t help listen to some of these sad stories.

So what has gone wrong? I don’t have any answer. Is it esteem, or it’s our lack of focus? Honestly, I don’t have an answer. Things have gone wrong. We have become less of what we believe we are supposed to be, influence peoples’ lives depending on what we do, write or say, make a difference and love our jobs. But this is not the case. It’s for survival. Quitting is often an option, but we tend to lay back, hold on and tell our rather vulnerable selves “where will I go if I quit?” Then quickly it’s the end. We decide to stay, patch up and work our heads off because of frustration. We are scared of failure and challenges. We realise the storm is heading closer but we keep standing and screaming. We should be saving our lives and those of others. But have we done this?

We laugh, smile, giggle, blend in and make friends but we still don’t look happy. Our love for human interest has been taken over by the love for figures and numbers. We have lost the human touch and slowly it’s slipping away. We are in the middle of a blurr, we lack focus to look at the beauty and the tenderness of the human being within us. For this should we be hacked and our meat roasted and served to the scavengers or the blood sucking vampires? NO. I believe there is more within us that can change someone or some people, but we are limited. Limited to that job that is just for survival, because we need to have a job no-matter what. Proudly we watch others doing the job we have always desired. But we remain sucked in, silent and we keep on wishing.

The sky fades and we are not growing any younger. We are in some sort of unknown world that we can’t seem to quit and put our real selves to use.



In other news:
Mega BHH this "Furahiday." This is going to be the perfect Christmas send off.  Thanks to Walkonby our who will be our host. Get to her blog and place some answers to the questions she has asked. I saw something about a kitchen (for those who can cook).

SHIT. Did i just ignore you?

Looking through my dusty window, there is a ray of light that gave me hope that there is no rain. Three minutes later the weather has changed. It looks rugged. Am at full throttle and need to get to work. I fail. I cannot be there. The downpour rattles the roof and then at an instant the electricity just goes off. I pause.
Love is something that I can give once. One that I can offer to the one I love. But this is not about you. But it’s about you. Today is memorable (for me). Do I care if it is for you? Yes and no. And this is not about rain either. Its about the one you have ignored. The one you have failed to love. We have seen people devastated coz of this. We have seen people go down for their failure to love. They have been heartbroken and some have failed to move on. Love is not like rocket science (Ask Melanie on Sanyu Fm).

We normally say sorry when something happens, say excuse me when we cough, and we are polite to other people. We even propose while kneeling. Some of us bow to the God, Kabaka and the Queen. All these as a sign of respect intertwined with love. Some have made friends with gorillas and humans. (Hope you haven’t replaced a dog with a gorilla yet).
We make phone calls, send sms’s late in the night and talk to those we love. We even listened to music (apart from some pathetic music by ..........). We dance and drink all night for we live to enjoy that life.
But there is someone we have ignored. That one who has always been part of us. We have failed to be nice. We have rejected and dejected that someone, made her a rebound, Treated her with utter disrespect and Complained too much for what they offer. We have Taken for granted, stolen what belongs to her to satisfy our insatiable alienated desire and we have failed to replace and mend that which have broken.

We have failed to return that which borrowed from her. She has been mistreated and heartbroken, but she can’t talk. She is silently watching us dancing away, drinking mineral water, eating sweets, shopping, switching on our car engines and advancing to industrialisation. Failing to protect her beauty, the curves and the sections of her body that make her uniquely tailored. She is slowly slipping away. She is getting angry and we are getting hungry. She is weeping and we are getting flooded. She has frowned and drinking more water and dozing in our offices powered by AC. She is not happy and she needs us.

How much do we love our environment?

Losing UBHH-virginity

This post is possibly related to one of those escapades that seem to derail me. Things that want to stick by me and stay with me. The thorough thought of it makes me want to get a stick shove it right through my intestines and pluck out that piece of the grasshopper leg that I swallowed. I belch. Disgusting I know. That’s it. I think am too high on those grasshoppers. Yummy. I have too many of them.

So it happens to have been UBHH last week, it was my very first. Since it ss the African continent, I actually got to the venue at 7pm after a hectic day at work. In my black suit and my precious bag I'm waiting. Uganda Telecom is to blame. My twitter wasn’t working. I couldn’t receive any update. Rogue King had sent me details on how to ID the bloggers. I couldn’t read any of them. My sister TRP also tried but all in vain. Then payo wanted me to let him know how UBHH was going. I just couldn’t find these guys. 7:30, still no-one. I meet this friend whom I had last seen 3years ago. He gets excited and offers buy me a Coca-Cola. I accept it. The beauty of Kampala is that there is a lot to admire, especially at night. Especially the nice cars (I hope you agree). So as my friend peels away, look who appears, Streetsider.  I walk over to the tableless area and introduce myself. It is me guys, I am the real guy.

Santosh appeared and we talked, safyre wrapped in his gemstone overtly thought I was so old. Solomon King sat calmly in talking to um and for sometime  until Solomon King stood up and walked out. Then he appeared a few minutes later. Not alone but with Yvonne. The usual introductions go on. She then leaves.  Then Normzo appears. Sleek joins us. Jny23ug comes around but he has to head off to a Virgil. So he lasts only a few minutes and leaves. And then Darlyne.

Sleek and Street take sometime and engage in a conversation. Xiona shows up. Safyre and I engage her in a conversation about cars. Safyre tells me the lady loves cars. She lasted less than a 10minutes, she moves to the interior. Meanwhile am salvaging on my third alvaro. Solomon King and Normzo are embedded in a conversation. Things happen so fast and then Normzo leaves, safyre is also plotting an exit. The 4 S boys stick around (Santosh,Solomon King,Sleek and Street) and Darlyne also sticks around. I plot my exit and take a leave out of the A to the rea.

My first BHH wasn’t that bad. Can’t wait for the next one. YZ is in the country and then for Ugandan Girl maybe will meet in the next one. Mudamuli, also you.

When the post becomes long.

The weekend sailed by and I missed the Kampala Marathon. Honestly I would have finished the race. That is according to what I think. My weight has been a problem, especially the belly that had become an issue. It seemed to be protruding each day. This has raised dust. Yes I know it is not any of your business. But I have started skipping the rope and engaging myself in stretching. It wasn’t easy. I stretched and my muscles are hurting. It is real pain. I can tell why Rafael Nadal is not looking like a world number 2.

So why the torture? Maybe it is because I want to be fit so I can run next years’ marathon. Since the usual suspects have failed to win the money I would take it on (terms and conditions apply). Ok in the long post I’d like to introduce the cast: Thiery Henry, Jennifer Lopez, Charles Darwin, Pastor X, Stephanie Meyer and K’naan

Scene one

For those who follow football know that Theiry Henry attempted the slam dunk but could only afford a super assist. France is now in the world Cup. The guy had to cheat to get France to the World Cup. There is what we call sportsman ship. Do you know the guy who embezzles money and then says “the auditors did not get the flaw so it is not my problem.” Do we have to wait for a court to convict us or find us guilty? Do we have to get to this point?

Scene two

When the one and only J-lo falls in a move while at performing at the American Music awards, she fell on the only part of her body that builds her brand. Fact is she fell and then in split second stood up and continued to perform. How would you explain this? She is human. Even the best can fall. There is no-one who is perfect BUT we need to struggle to be the best. We meet some hurdles we can’t jump, we fall flat and stand up straight and move on.

Scene three

The origin of species, we celebrate this theory (150years). Science is appreciated. Charles Darwin left us, but to this day we remember his theory. It’s the beauty of how he sees the world that perfects the art of life and diverse thought. I have been engaging myself in some literature on diverse issues; this has opened up my mind and kind of made me a critical thinker (I think). I guess we need to listen to people and get different perspectives.

Scene four

I was thinking of Adolf Hitler but I can’t find him a role in the play. Now instead of Hitler or any of the self styled dicatators I’ll give pastor X who never delivers a sermon in Church, he will preach for 5minutes and will spend more than an hour “anointing.” Am not questioning what he can do but the essence of Church for me is changing. The message is key, I noticed he made an alter call before he could preach and after all the anointing he never made an alter call. The church was down, people fell. Then I told my friend who had brought me that I couldn’t stand this. I left. He had invited me to his church. Now this part I can’t quite explain. If you ain’t sure you are doing the right thing consult others or talk to someone. At this point I wasn’t sure why I was in this place so I had to move out. Creepy I thought

Scene five

Stephanie Meyer, a storyteller in her own right. She was sleeping and then dreamt. She then started writing. The Twilight series have become a very popular among teenage readers. New Moon  has be transformed into a movie. How nice? Remember she just dreamt.The story has no explicit scenes but people love it. JK Rowling has sold like hot chocolate and movies have been made about her Harry Potter books. I need a movie on “No Longer at ease,” “gods bits of wood” and well atleast I have watched Jill Scott act a beautiful story about a book on Botswana “the No.1 first ladies detective.” If you read the Book then you will know how beautiful the story is. Am I blind? I have seen the Nigerians act but the African story is not there. We can do better when we take up those opportunities.

Scene six

K’naan, he came to Uganda and his story is amazing. He is great guy to interact with. One thing is he has very strong lyrics and he is a poet. Ok he is from Somalia (now what do you know about Somalia: war). He left Somalia at the age of 13. He now lives in Canada. His accent is so not American (A guy will go to the USA and after 1 month, accent has changed), the guy speaks fluent amaharic and he is so down to earth (cliche’). Anyway he insists that there is a story about Somalia we do not know. He told me how the people there are great poets and know art. Pictures and words. Poetry is very much a way of life in Somalia. Despite how negative we can be, there is always something positive about life that we should have or look to or appreciate


I did go off topic; this is the month where the delicacy comes once. They are sweet and if you don’t eat them then you are slightly missing something. They engage the gums. They have been compared to the pizza (If you have been at Steers you know what am talking about). They have been compared to bacon. Others call it popcorn; there are those that refer to it as crisps. I’d like to introduce the grasshopper.

Have a great week

great thinkers

Am I a great thinker?

 

Am not the one who designed, its a friend who did.

So I decided I should get an opinion....

On this day(the pic was taken). I was in one of the most

boring lectures. One of the photojournalism students decided

it was a fabulous pic. I was thinking.

Its around 7:00am, and have to get busy now......

Be back later........

Ain’t worth that

The preamble

I will not say I know the unemployment rate in Uganda, but it is pretty high. Every year thousands graduate across the country. The number is so high but the jobs....well are not seen. When I was growing up I always told myself and people around me that I can never be unemployed. This was much courage that carried. Why I said that was because I knew I was going to be a doctor and jobs are very available. Slowly this began to glide away.

I have had opportunities to get jobs but I have suffered a few setbacks, most of them beyond my own making. Journalism is tough but fun. The first time I got to practice serious journalism was in the western part of Uganda, It was for a radio station. It was pretty easy, but that wasn’t the key issue. There was just too much I learnt. The journalists I met had amazing stories most of which were around sex. Or even the time I went to the high court and found this registrar who wanted to pay me to talk about a case. I was rookie so most of these things were new to me. In my internship, the owner of the radio station was so tough that one day he decided I work at the reception desk. Not cool at all.

Then one day I came with a “hot” story. That is what I thought. It was about a very powerful man in the area, who is alleged to have sacrificed an old woman at the foundation of his posh hospital. It was to be a powerful a story, then I was only disappointed when I was told by the “station owner,” that we couldn’t use the story. I was shocked, but not for long, I got to learn that these two were friends and.

Journalism has taught me many things, including how to survive around. I got to do my second internship at a business paper and this taught me how to live a life working hard, adding value and all you get is a thank you. Though I think my chance to be big is still available. The stories I always hear from some PR firms, is that journalists love money. Well, have they ever asked themselves why some of these journalists ask them for money? That I honestly don’t know.

Dinning with people from the corporate world has kept my eyes wide open. Getting close to the bigshots and asking them questions makes me proud. Any journalist will tell how good they felt each time they saw their by-line. I have always known journalism and writing is a passion. Am very passionate when I am doing my work but of-late I am beginning to lose it. Slowly the interest is going. So much effort I put in and what I gain is less. Last week I was given an offer, but I turned it down. I refused the offer because it wasn’t worth it. The offer would increase my workload yet the pay is worse. My boss always tells me that writing is passion no matter the pay. Blogging would best fit in his argument, but then investing my time, money, airtime and freedom for peanuts ain’t worth it.

An apology.

Now I would like to apologise the bloggers at BHH, the reason I missed is because I got a phone call from my boss to go attend a function, he wanted the story by 8am the next day. I was standing at jumbo plaza opposite nandos when I got the phone call.

The little things

About 22 years I was brought into this world. I became part of the human infested planet. Not a bad idea. In growing up I never lived with my parents. I only started living with them when I was 17. Not the reason why I did not go to the most prestigious schools around Uganda. Growing up in the very rural area with no TV and internet, my only friend was a small portable radio. This is where I would get all the information I need. And my auntie had all the novels and books that would sink myself into every evening and read. It had become so obvious that I was destined to be a doctor but on course I met the worst nightmare, a terrible lifestyle that cost me that dream. And well it was also my desire for too much novel reading cost me the chemistry and the biology I was supposed to read. The only thing I knew in chemistry was titration (mixing chlorine with hydrochloric acid) and then there was this

Cl + O2 = CLO2

Then they would ask you to balance the equation. What a nightmare.

So then back to the little things. My relationship with my parents did not improve too much after I was 17. I hardly had a decent conversation with my parents. I would sit with my dad in the car and for over 15k/ms there was no coversation. I would try to talk but all I could say was "now look at how that man is overtaking" or "this road is quite pathetic." I would never tell my father am broke. I would suck it in and swallow my tongue, die with my brokeness. If I had a problem I would do the same. I never made phonecalls to my parents and rarely did they. At times I would think they are angry because of my past tribulations, but I think I was wrong. They did not look angry at all.

When I joined campass it was the same, nothing new. The conversation would be, "what is your Gpa?", "How much do you need for tuition?" "when is the holiday and when are you coming home?"

But something changed a month ago. After I graduated my father seems to have changed, he calls me regulary to find out if I have a job or if am broke and need some money. This makes me proud. On graduation, my mother cried and my dad looked so calm. My nephews call him "Mr Cool" and they say he is always in "Chiller mode."

It is quite amazing how things have turned around.

Its those little things in life, like someone saying thank you, sending you text, telling you how jesus died for you, praying for you, smiling, saying hullo and caring among others that make the difference.

Listen to....

The little things that give you away - linkin Park.

Held - Natale grant.

(If you dont have these two, just drop me an e-mail)

Here I stand.......

Here I sit, watching my computer screen looking at me.
The screen is blank and black.
I think.

Five days ago while on the job of moving up and down
A motocycle put me down. I was sent crushing by the motocycle.
I was the passenger. I survived. My pelvic hurts though.

So I think again what should I type.
Am not heartbroken. I'd rather call it the transition to a new life
Without what I wished or what I held and left fly.
Please dont judge me. Am not complaining.

Last weekend was a blast. I spent sometime with some one called
Joss Stone somewhere near Gayaza. Interesting what she is doing for
Kids down that side are realy benefiting from the Charity work she does.
I cant put down her whole profile, just click here and read what you can.

Its is also official that K'naan could be coming to Uganda on November 14th. I'll keep
you updated.

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

In life there are things we are scared of
Things that haunt us
Things that make us walk facing down
Things we have failed to reconcile
Things that stick memories yet they are tormentors

Then on this day you decide
I wont look back again
I'll look forward and say
"checkmate"
I look to the future
Its not grim but its lively

On this one day you make your wish
Then you decide
This is my time.
My time to shine.
Its my turf and no-one will stop me.
Its the time you accept to let someone in
That someone will never break your heart
That someone lives in me.

Special Announcement but first.........

Hush now

This is for you
The one who stayed
But then left
The one who stood by
And then laid back
The one who held my hand
And then let go
The one who I watched
And then you drift away

The one who slit my throat
And proudly boasted
The one who knows the truth
But lives in denial
The one with who offered
Me a rose
But then stole it from me again
The one who lied to my soul
And then squeezed blood from my heart

The one that is bold enough
To deny how they feel
The one who is proud of me
But is not appreciative of me
Then who made the choice to go beyond
But could deny they meant it
The one who says they love another
But then they love me.
The one who breathed life in me
And then sucked it out

Now that you are gone
Like a dagger slicing my body parts
Please don’t come back
Since you are sure of what you are doing
You are amazing, lovely and pleasurable
But you have the choice
A choice where you are living in denial
And as the last tear drop rolls off my cheek
It’s time for me to Hush and be quiet
I my heart you live and I will not deny that.

......and then the announcement brought to you by

28rd October @ cineplex Micheal Jacksons This is it will
Premiere. Tickets on sale at cineplex Garden City. (showing from 28th october to November 12th)

Powered by

Stabbed.

The beauty of life is to appreciate how diverse human nature behaves. People are different. If put together they can make a very beautiful fabric. Ever been in love? Ok I can see that the answers are different. Obviously some are saying Yes others are saying No.

"Hey you over there, do you have anything to say?" I ask a young man in the corner who kept his hand up.

He is a blue shirt and the crowd is large. I cannot see his height. But he seems bothered. He looks sucked up, drained and his state is alarming.

"Yes, I'd like to say something," he says in english. He has a strong voice. He looks bold enough.

I try to tell the crowd that its late and they do not have to listen to a story. The crowd is aigitated and haul insults at me.

"Who told you we are tired? we want to listen. Whats your problem," they shout

"ok, ok, ok I'll let the young man come right in front and please listen," I softly say. I was looking rather embarrased. How could I deny these people from listening to this storyteller. He walks to the stage, and I notice he is in blue sandles, rather dusty feet. His faded blue jeans have brown patches and his blue shirt has a clear embeded word in thick black "I am screwed." His face is pale and from a distance I can see his hair is the colour of the earth.

"Listen carefully, this is it," he says.

.........

Once I got stabbed straight in the heart. Though you may not see the scar, I got stabbed. Two days ago is when it happened. I was busy jubilating on my success', I had piled myself with 5 DVDs knowing my night would be a very beautiful one. I get home, its rather cold and from the skies I can tell its rather gray. I took a nice warm shower and settled into my chair and started rather not so lonely movie night.

What was I celebrating? half a triumph. I had given  three quaters of my heart to someone who needed it. someone who I believe deserved it. It was noble of me but I knew it was for the best. What I had not realised is that I was using only a quater of a heart. I was getting tired so fast. In giving away my heart, I had agreed with the receiving person that I would get three quaters of theirs to. That night passed and I slept. My brother saw me sleeping and in the morning he told me that I was sleep smiling.

I woke up to a heavy downpoar, so I cancelled my morning plans. I needed a heart. I was getting tired. With the advance in technology I set up a video conference call with my exchanging patner. I tell her to return the favour and she said that she would letting me know of the developments. I wait.

Day 1, 2 , 3, 4, 5 and I grow weaker and weaker and there is nothing from her. She is too silent. She is lost.

So finaly I confronted her. Immediately she turns to me.

"What do you want from me?," she asks.

"I need my heart back, am dying. This one cant hold for long," I reply

"You know what? I am not giving you anything. Not even yours. Now please leave me alone," she says.

Then I watch her closely, speechless. I beg for her to help. She looks at me so sofly. Its like she has changed her mind. She gets close and then her left hand moves around my neck and pulls me close. Her lips are separated from mine by the size of a thread. I am weak so I wait. In a flash, she stabs me in the heart. She pulls out the remaining heart and steps on it. She kisses me and walks away.

Ladies and gentlemen, thats the beauty of life. She broke my heart.

..........

He ends his story and walks off the stage. I also decide tell the crowd that this session of storytelling is over. They all leave whispering to eachother.

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