The letter to my newly found

Intrigued by the desires of my heart, happiness seems to have made the return journey. It had taken a vacation. It has become obvious that she is newly found but I will do my best to keep her away from sleek. So I have decided to write her this letter.

Dearest Beloved

This is the first letter I am jotting writing since we met in November last year. It was memorable and I remember us seated in the lounge waiting for our function to begin. The wait was worthwhile as we interacted and I enjoyed our chit-chat. I was impressed by the insight and sudden conversation you had triggered. I remember the chat about journalism in Uganda, and then when I told you I had some work to finish and you asked if you could type the  work for me. It was beginning to become enjoyable until the people at the function came back from their lunch break.
I remember our second meet at yet another one of those functions and this time we spent some good time together and still we discussed so much on the professional side. I deeply enjoyed the company and your calmness took me into extreme attention. Then I started listening to a knock in the heart. I began to have what most people call feelings. You could have noticed because I remember one day you asked me.

“Why are you looking at me like that? And my reply was just a simple smile. You smiled back and shrugged it off.

The close relationship we are leading ourselves into has been characterised by texts, phone calls and e-mails. The complements, sharing and care we have been offering each other have made me question our friendship. I have been trying to know about you and so far so good. You have cared but I haven’t shown immediate interest instead I keep acting the gentleman.

I wouldn’t tell you am a slow guy but am taking my time. The scarf you offered me in the cold rugged and rainy Friday was special. I remember refusing it yet I was freezing, you insisted and I took it. Then I forgot to return it. It has been a companion because each time I want to bring it to your workplace I think about asking you out to lunch on a date. My scared soul lets me down on this road. 

Am taking my time but am told you won’t wait. I’ve been told to atleast show signals of interest so you don’t think am just a gentleman. This I want to do by asking you out on a date. I do not know if I can tell you now but am finding it hard to find the guts.  I don’t know if you like me but so that you know, I like you but it won’t be soon that you will find out about this.

For now I’ll live with it and please remember you are now my newly found love.
 
Please do not read this letter.

Always Loving
 
Me


----------------------------------------------------

Playlist

Good life - One republic.

Reading

the camel club - David Baldacci

Mushy, Mellow and Subtle (part two)

I made the choice to let the bird fly. I let it out of the cage so it could find its way. Did the bird actually want to leave? Well that I did not know. The answer is somewhere embedded in the birds’ thoughts. Sometime last week I was telling you a story of my secondary school sweetheart. One of the few girls that have managed to breach the firewall that is embedded somewhere close to my heart.  So, our days had become something everyone wished for. I mean whoever looked at us always wanted to be like us. It wasn’t that simple. Every evening at 6pm I had to switch on CNN or BBC for the students so they could get updates on the Iraq war and the media jargon that existed that time.

This time was rightfully utilised. I used to stand at the back of the hall and at 6:30pm she would appear. And then we would talk “pakalast.” Honestly I can’t exactly remember what we used to talk about. But we spent quite some time together. This was the only time she would probably get to see me as I was always caught up in some off-the-school duties.  Her innocence always kept a faithful drive. Our love life was characterised by daily chits and endless smiles that we offered to the world. We were the perfect match.

I truly treasured the moments and loved every bit I spent with her. However there is something about me that did feel like she was being cheated of true love.  Not that I didn’t love her but I felt I had cheated her of what she deserved. I was one of those guys who had some very stunning addictions apart from the Tiger Woods addiction. I was brought up like an English kid and very protected. I knew how to cover my tracks and was rarely caught in the wrong places. Innocence was just a facial expression. She didn’t deserve this for each time, each second and each microcosm I felt she was being cheated of the right guy.

I decided to call it off not because I had lost interest but because I needed to rediscover myself. The real I needed to be unearthed and I felt she had to go. I wanted the best for her that of which I couldn’t offer at that time. Rehab wasn’t the easiest of choices but what could I do. It was my only choice. She needed not to know. So I let the bird out of the cage, and she flew away. I let her move on and each time I heard she had met someone I never felt like interfering, I stayed away and let her be.

When all was over with my rehabilitation, I thought the bird would come flying back. But all I received was the hatred she had for me. In my mind, I blamed myself for letting her go, but the other part of me cherishes this decision. She is happy now and I have let it go. She always tells me that its now my turn to be happy.  I only get angry when she tells me that I rejected her, stopped communicating and did not like her. Sometimes I feel like telling her the truth of why I broke it off but somebody stops me. This is the one I have recently met.

Listening to
If my heart was a house - Owl city

Mushy, mellow and subtle (Part one)

Every morning I struggle to peal the blanket off my skin. My head spins and goes through the days schedule.
Its going to be a long and demanding day. One wakes up to the news that Mr Behakanira of J&M hotel had been murdered (oh sorry thats my theory). I notice that one Thaksin Shinawatra was here in Uganda unveiling a lottery company he owns. I remember the Ugandan Insmniac making a prior post on Shinawatra being interested in Ugandan Oil. Well he actually is here to take some pocket change from Ugandans. lets go gamble and enjoy the fruits that were shipped in from Thailand. In his interview with The Times he said that he had 10 goldmines in Uganda and offcourse revealed the fact that he some lottery licences. Some people in Thailand call him a fugitive and others love him. I remember watching those protests by his sympathisers on the streets of Thailand and they hostage the airport. He knows how to do trial and error.

This explains part my post. I was just giving my post a background. Not many years away from this 15th day of Feb, I remember the only Valentines day I got to celebrate. We were young. Very young with so much "love."

14/02/2003
Some of may have been lavishing somewhere I was not. Well I was in the over-hyped days of my life. The days when being in S.4, I was a prized possession. Highly demanded and treasured by many self loathing females because of my gothic calmness. It was at this time that I met Marionah(not real name but the accroynm that combined both our names). Marionah is the only person in my life I have never written about. She is the one girl in my life I found with less error and her honesty and innocense I bestowed. Her dark skin, self giving smile reflected her intense generosity. We had met on the girl and scout camp but I shrugged it off as my love was not for finding the perfect girl but to stay away from them.

Then one night................ <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< I had been planning for this, there she was always smiling and all these boys in her class trying to win her heart. At 10pm its the end of prep and the boys are all camping around girls looking for goodnight messages, hugs and kisses. I watched her and then made my move. My very insightful and enchanting tricks. I had written her a chit. I was good at that and I trusted my power when I put pen to paper. She was quiet the next day. Then I went to stage two. I was a prefect and that meant I had to supervise lower classes. She was in S.3 and I was in S.4. I utilised optimumly. I Invited her outside her class and we engaged in a conversation. It all worked out. And a few days later we celebrated Valentines and that would be the last one.

14/02/04,05,06,07,08,09,10
All these were ordinary. We broke up rather amazingly. I dont know how but we just ended our relationship due to distance and she was seeing another guy. I was also looking out for this chic from Gayaza. But I remember her last words to me,
"If we break up I dont know whether I'll meet someone more than you and love them the way I did"
So a few years down memory lane, we hardly talk. I havent seen her in over 7years. And what can I say, she moved on. And so did I.

The fact that she said those words doesn't mean she didnt move on. She needed to be happy and in the Long Run I wouldnt have made her happy. She had moved on. Found a new place and new love. I too had moved and not looked back as I took all the blame for ending the relationship. Just like our friend Thaksin Shinawatra who has found Uganda a new haven, she has found her new haven somewhere else.
Her honesty however cannot be compared to that of Thaksin. So I would tell the guy that she is the best for him but then for Thaksin, I would say Watchout Uganda.

................................................................
Playlist
Valentines Day - Linkin Park
Try sleeping with a broken heart - Alicia Keys
Bleedin' America - Jimmy Eat the World
Forgive Me - Group one crew

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.