Everyone gets to a time when they want something
To like, appreciate and love
Others wonder whether it will ever be so
Hoping that time will be
And Holding on to hope and the truth
That make life more bearable
So live through it – Your phase
Holding close to what counts most
And looking for what will last
Because like it or not
One day – Your cruise missile will hit
Till then
Enjoy your ride.
Post in response to this
Sleeping less, staying up
Doing the punching game on my notebook
I think, I wait, I dream in denial and happiness
I pray to God
“Oh lord let it be, grant me what I deserve.
God. Lead me to that decision which glorifies your name”
For this prayer is deserved of what I have been through.
I’d like for him to let me release the bird.
Let it fly in the blue lit skies.
For this gloomy face, I begin to hate this part.
That part of me that has fallen for that which God has made.
I am too sleepy. I need to wake up.
Apr 26, 2010
Apr 15, 2010
Karma is for real..
You can smell the silence as it sails past your door at 2:15am.
“I am scared. Scared of everything,” You whisper to yourself
You wish you could be somewhere watching everything happen.
“What if I hadn’t messed up?” you ask yourself.
Your thoughts fade into the sky up above and your imagination sets you into a state of silence. Even a whisper is too loud.
What if the sky was blue and it rained. Would the clouds have rebelled?
Would the stars strike because the moon is brighter?
Would butterflies complain that they are smaller than birds?
Would the stream complain that the river is large?
Or would short men ask themselves why basketball players in the NBA are tall?
“I don’t know. I do not know if any of those of are complaints,” You answer yourself.
You convince yourself that you are not complaining about anything.
You wonder what could have done to change the situation.
You try to remember your childhood. How you used to ran around, go for birthday parties, blowing bubbles, playing mum and dad, buying sweets, sharing, shouting at each, playing super Mario, running for the VHS recorder just watch beauty and the beast, Aladin, the princess and the frog and Animal farm, snow white among others.
All these are stuck in your memory.
“Where did things go wrong?” you wonder quietly on bed.
What did you do? What did you say?
You wish you could tell the world that no-one can create a cloud and add it to the skies.
“Am I revealing too much?” yet another question you ask yourself.
When you look at yourself in the mirror you see a reflection of what you did in the past.
The past seems so near like it has come to haunt you.
What do you do? What do you say? Who do you tell?
“No-one,” you answer
You take a minute. You wait, you think.
“Do they really have to know?” You ask yourself again.
But the heart wants you tell them. For deep down you know you can’t afford anything.
You resist any form of conviction and decide to move on.
“I will do this on my own. Besides I did this to myself,” you convince yourself.
And then you wonder whether she is interested in your drama.
Interested in a future where she has to live with you in your condition.
Whatever you are holding on to seems to be slipping away.
Your hands are shaking and before you notice there is shattered glass around you.
With your bare feet, you step on what is left of the glass. Slowly a red pigment gently sails out of the skin.
The guilt inside of you almost leads you to explode. You wonder if you are troubled.
You watch the world evolve around you. All the hope you had begins to diminish. You are tired of appearing to be your best. Pretending everything is ok.
You look like a stranded passenger in the middle of the Sahara, where the roads have been covered by the sand. From east to west, north to south, it is all the same.
Time check 2:30 am
You listen to the silence. All you hear are the mosquitoes craving to get inside the mosquito net.
The dogs bark at anything outside the gate, even a passing car.
You sigh.
You listen to the kind words of those who care. You listen to them in your thoughts. They are that loud.
“Move on. Move one,” are the words from those who are around you.
“To where?” you ask them.
All you do is talk to your own recording. Because everyone around is asleep.
You have become what you wouldn’t have desired to be.
You feel you are disappointed in yourself.
The optimism around you begins to become the feeling like the moon has appeared at midday.
You are on the verge of an anti-climax.
You count the raindrops. Each one that clutters the roof you count.
You are awake. You are thinking. You need a distraction.
Deep down you know things are going to get worse. On the surface optimism is written all over.
3:00 am
You switch on the DVD.
“I am scared. Scared of everything,” You whisper to yourself
You wish you could be somewhere watching everything happen.
“What if I hadn’t messed up?” you ask yourself.
Your thoughts fade into the sky up above and your imagination sets you into a state of silence. Even a whisper is too loud.
What if the sky was blue and it rained. Would the clouds have rebelled?
Would the stars strike because the moon is brighter?
Would butterflies complain that they are smaller than birds?
Would the stream complain that the river is large?
Or would short men ask themselves why basketball players in the NBA are tall?
“I don’t know. I do not know if any of those of are complaints,” You answer yourself.
You convince yourself that you are not complaining about anything.
You wonder what could have done to change the situation.
You try to remember your childhood. How you used to ran around, go for birthday parties, blowing bubbles, playing mum and dad, buying sweets, sharing, shouting at each, playing super Mario, running for the VHS recorder just watch beauty and the beast, Aladin, the princess and the frog and Animal farm, snow white among others.
All these are stuck in your memory.
“Where did things go wrong?” you wonder quietly on bed.
What did you do? What did you say?
You wish you could tell the world that no-one can create a cloud and add it to the skies.
“Am I revealing too much?” yet another question you ask yourself.
When you look at yourself in the mirror you see a reflection of what you did in the past.
The past seems so near like it has come to haunt you.
What do you do? What do you say? Who do you tell?
“No-one,” you answer
You take a minute. You wait, you think.
“Do they really have to know?” You ask yourself again.
But the heart wants you tell them. For deep down you know you can’t afford anything.
You resist any form of conviction and decide to move on.
“I will do this on my own. Besides I did this to myself,” you convince yourself.
And then you wonder whether she is interested in your drama.
Interested in a future where she has to live with you in your condition.
Whatever you are holding on to seems to be slipping away.
Your hands are shaking and before you notice there is shattered glass around you.
With your bare feet, you step on what is left of the glass. Slowly a red pigment gently sails out of the skin.
The guilt inside of you almost leads you to explode. You wonder if you are troubled.
You watch the world evolve around you. All the hope you had begins to diminish. You are tired of appearing to be your best. Pretending everything is ok.
You look like a stranded passenger in the middle of the Sahara, where the roads have been covered by the sand. From east to west, north to south, it is all the same.
Time check 2:30 am
You listen to the silence. All you hear are the mosquitoes craving to get inside the mosquito net.
The dogs bark at anything outside the gate, even a passing car.
You sigh.
You listen to the kind words of those who care. You listen to them in your thoughts. They are that loud.
“Move on. Move one,” are the words from those who are around you.
“To where?” you ask them.
All you do is talk to your own recording. Because everyone around is asleep.
You have become what you wouldn’t have desired to be.
You feel you are disappointed in yourself.
The optimism around you begins to become the feeling like the moon has appeared at midday.
You are on the verge of an anti-climax.
You count the raindrops. Each one that clutters the roof you count.
You are awake. You are thinking. You need a distraction.
Deep down you know things are going to get worse. On the surface optimism is written all over.
3:00 am
You switch on the DVD.
Apr 6, 2010
Through the woods he walks
A faint hearted soul searches for its comfort in the woods. Its dark and the sound of the ware wolves eases through his ears as he slowly clutches to his chest. The trees swing at the sound of the wind. The dry leaves fall off the trees at every footstep he makes. The moon has black patch as all seems illusive for his broken soul.
He knows good things are yet to come but there is something he must find. In the woods he must pass to make it. He remembers the Easter conversation with a 70 year old woman that will always stick in his head.
“Son, you look like you are troubled and need help,” The old woman tells him
He looks at the woman and ignores but she insists and repeats the same words three times until he decides to reply.
“Ok, now madam I am really not troubled and do not need any help. Am just in some rare state of mind,” he replies.
The old woman stares at the young guy dressed in black flare trousers and a Calvin Klein T-shirt. She laughs and giggles to herself.
“Son, you need to act fast before it gets late,” She says as she walks away.
All this he thinks as he tries to avoid the sound of the night. The bats traverse the woods and keep watch as the Owls are the source of light. He is avoiding the songs by Nightwish and Muse that seems to keep replaying in his head. He tries to think of some jolly times that always standout for him.
The look on her face brings back his smile. The sound of her voice brings back his confidence to move on. The time spent with her makes him want to keep walking. He chooses to keep the thoughts to himself and slowly scribbles a few notes about her on a leaf. A leaf that he leaves to fly. Inscribed on the leaf are the words that surround his memory. The words of his future. A future she is part of. A future that he is scared of because he waits for her to trust him. Something he must earn.
The woods get thick; the thorns skim through his skin leaving trenches. Trenches that lead blood out of the skin. The hyenas keep getting closer as the ware wolves get louder. He wonders why he did not take the bus. The bus would have been quicker. But he remembers the instructions he was given.
“Walk through the woods and inside you will get further instructions.”
Even if he was to take bus, he would be broke. He had worked for a month and he wasn’t paid. He had spent much of his holiday locked in his room trying to think his next step and getting worried about the future.
He tries to remember a few things that make him smile. That Easter weekend where he had to take care of his niece never seems to skip his memory. He looked like a father. He recalls the day in the supermarket while shopping for the niece to get back to school. There he was with the niece and they walked the supermarket buying all she needed. Then he notices people looking at him and talking to each other.
“He is good father. He shops with the daughter,” some say. And then others ask themselves. “Did the wife die? Why does he shop with the daughter?”
He smiles as he listens to all these people. He imagines himself doing the same for his own children in the near future.
The darkness grows thicker. There is no light but all he has to follow are the eyes of the owls in various tries. He is bitter about something. Something he did and always regrets but wishes to move on. He must relive each moment in order to find out the truth and deal with it.
As he approaches the end of the woods, there is the sound of drums. He looks forward and the brightness seems to appear at every step. He races towards the light and the ground ahead begins to get softer. It gets sandy and there is a soft sound of waves slapping each other. The sky begins to clear and the stars begin to appear. He reaches out his hand to let the gentle breeze to flow through his body. The sudden taste of freedom. He has overcome his fear, the fear of consequences. He now he has to take the next step. A step where consequence is his largest fear.
He knows good things are yet to come but there is something he must find. In the woods he must pass to make it. He remembers the Easter conversation with a 70 year old woman that will always stick in his head.
“Son, you look like you are troubled and need help,” The old woman tells him
He looks at the woman and ignores but she insists and repeats the same words three times until he decides to reply.
“Ok, now madam I am really not troubled and do not need any help. Am just in some rare state of mind,” he replies.
The old woman stares at the young guy dressed in black flare trousers and a Calvin Klein T-shirt. She laughs and giggles to herself.
“Son, you need to act fast before it gets late,” She says as she walks away.
All this he thinks as he tries to avoid the sound of the night. The bats traverse the woods and keep watch as the Owls are the source of light. He is avoiding the songs by Nightwish and Muse that seems to keep replaying in his head. He tries to think of some jolly times that always standout for him.
The look on her face brings back his smile. The sound of her voice brings back his confidence to move on. The time spent with her makes him want to keep walking. He chooses to keep the thoughts to himself and slowly scribbles a few notes about her on a leaf. A leaf that he leaves to fly. Inscribed on the leaf are the words that surround his memory. The words of his future. A future she is part of. A future that he is scared of because he waits for her to trust him. Something he must earn.
The woods get thick; the thorns skim through his skin leaving trenches. Trenches that lead blood out of the skin. The hyenas keep getting closer as the ware wolves get louder. He wonders why he did not take the bus. The bus would have been quicker. But he remembers the instructions he was given.
“Walk through the woods and inside you will get further instructions.”
Even if he was to take bus, he would be broke. He had worked for a month and he wasn’t paid. He had spent much of his holiday locked in his room trying to think his next step and getting worried about the future.
He tries to remember a few things that make him smile. That Easter weekend where he had to take care of his niece never seems to skip his memory. He looked like a father. He recalls the day in the supermarket while shopping for the niece to get back to school. There he was with the niece and they walked the supermarket buying all she needed. Then he notices people looking at him and talking to each other.
“He is good father. He shops with the daughter,” some say. And then others ask themselves. “Did the wife die? Why does he shop with the daughter?”
He smiles as he listens to all these people. He imagines himself doing the same for his own children in the near future.
The darkness grows thicker. There is no light but all he has to follow are the eyes of the owls in various tries. He is bitter about something. Something he did and always regrets but wishes to move on. He must relive each moment in order to find out the truth and deal with it.
As he approaches the end of the woods, there is the sound of drums. He looks forward and the brightness seems to appear at every step. He races towards the light and the ground ahead begins to get softer. It gets sandy and there is a soft sound of waves slapping each other. The sky begins to clear and the stars begin to appear. He reaches out his hand to let the gentle breeze to flow through his body. The sudden taste of freedom. He has overcome his fear, the fear of consequences. He now he has to take the next step. A step where consequence is his largest fear.
Mar 25, 2010
Somone stole my baby
It a sorrowful month for me, as someone decided to take my baby. The baby was just over 1year old and was increasingly getting closer to my heart. I loved this baby that I would spend considerable time with it. The baby took time to remind me of memories long gone. What always appeased me was its memory. It could remember everyone that comes into its sight.
I had become fond of it and for anyone who would seek to take it away from me, I would refuse. It’s not that am going to wear black for it or spend a week to mourn its death. Life has to go on. But atleast without it, there will a difference in my life. On that fateful day I remember leaving the baby alone, in a rush to go and meet the president as he launched a book on the Ugandan Economy. The rush was to blame because that is the time I last saw it. I should have taken my time, but I got so selfish and forgot my baby.
I remember that day I walked into the room and could not locate you. I searched all around the room and people around me thought I was mad. No-one knew what was wrong. For a week I remained silent thinking the baby had crawled away and would bring itself back. This was a lie I told myself. The future had been compromised. I had lost it all.
A week later, the burning of the Kasubi tombs overshadowed the loss off my baby. My baby was somewhere unknown and I’d have loved it to keep dumbfounded memories for me to keep. But the baby was not close by. I placed an announcement on the notice board asked all the people around me but no-one seemed to know where my baby was. The more people I told, the more they asked about my Baby. They felt sorry but this couldn’t recover my baby.
Good bye Baby Junior a.k.a my camera. I don’t know whether I will ever get to see you again. Atleast you have left me with memories that I will never forget. I have lost all hope and do not think I will ever find a replacement for you soon. For each day that passes, I know life has to go on. The world is not waiting.
That picture is the place where we used to fetch water in my village. That water we would use to bathe and wash our clothes. This is strictly rain water. It’s natural water tank. We would carry yellow 5litre jerry-cans and bend-over on the edges to fetch water. I took this picture last Christmas but this water now stands still, with technology this water has been ignored.
Mar 18, 2010
Kasubi tombs... (backstory)
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Inside the Kasubi tombs. These some of the irreplaceable valuables in the tomb. This has been the part of the integrity of the Buganda Kingdom for being able to preserve part of their culture. More than 200 years of history went into flames.
Buganda official Medard Ssegona Lubega described the fire as the "second biggest tragedy" in the kingdom's history.
"There are many men of our fallen kings lie in this house, which is now down to ashes," he told the BBC's Network Africa.
"It is something that we have built and kept and maintained for our children and grandchildren and many generations unborn."
Why I hate Number 3
3 are the number of people who are were shot dead at the razed Kasubi Tombs.
The military opened fire after a crowd of people tried to block president Museveni’s convoy from accessing the cultural site that burnt to ashes.Gunshots rocked the area around Kasubi with highly charged protesters.Well as its a loss to Buganda Kingdom, it is also a loss to the country. So the whole country should be in mourning. Although not everyone is emotionally attached but I have visited the tombs and has beautiful. The scenery and art of the Baganda in this place was amazing. Its loss to Bugunda and Uganda also. Last night a friend of mine received this text message.
The army spokesperson Lt. Col. Felix Kulayigye gave this explanation:
“Our soldiers deployed at Kasubi came under a hail of stones thrown by some rascals, They fired in the air in self-defence but, unfortunately, two people were hit and they died while five were injured.”
"Our Destiny, Culture and Norms is being destroyed. First its Kabaka, then CBS and now the Kasubi tombs have been burnt down......Gwe nga Omuganda Okozewo ki? Send this 2 others." (The bold means "What have you done as a Muganda")This text is provoking.
This is because of the theory that the Government is to blame. Well as the inquiries into this fire go on, then it should be noted that people are suspecting its arson. The investigation should be able to find out the exact cause of the fire.
Supporters of Mr Museveni and Buganda's King Ronald Mutebi have been at loggerheads since riots last year.
They fell out after the king - whose role is largely ceremonial - accused the government of blocking him from visiting a part of his kingdom.
At least 20 people died in riots linked with that incident. And angry protesters and royal advisers have said they believe the tomb fire might have been arson.
The place is a designated UNESCO cultural heritage center, It was grass thatched and that meant in case of fire it would be razed to the ground. My wonder is where there is no water Hydrant in that particular area. Atleast this would have reduced the extent of damage.
The government has said it will re-build the tombs. But this may not bring back what was preserved inside the tombs. Life has to go on despite all these.
it is said that out the ashes rises something great! So don't despair that fast!
Read more onKabaka Mutebi wipes away tears during his visit to the tombs (Newvision)
ugandajournalist.wordpress.com
http://newvision.co.ug
monitor.co.ug
There have 3 tragic incidences this year and that makes me hate number three the more. Buduuda landslides, Two students shot dead at Makerere University and then the Kasubi tombs were razed.
Mar 9, 2010
One more chance
The stars brightly beacon over the red lit sky
Over the trees the moon forms
Sending a ray of gray and orange
The round shaped orange moon appears
Its hope for a new night
The scent of the evening breeze sets the night in motion
Watching from a crowded sidewalk, he stares at the skyline
He is walking as people are all around him seem so far
He is focused on the red lit sky
Thinking of his conquest
He talks to the moon
His prowess is enchanted
But all he thinks about is his conquest
A conquest that remains his mystery
A shooting star appears
He makes a wish
A wish known to himself
He then smiles
Girl next to him smiles back
But she is mistaken, for his charm is not meant for her
It would not be her smile for he is thinking another
Another that he had seen a few months ago
One who has lit his smile and brightened his life
She has become the light that beacons in the skyline
She has created a lacework of orange
She has sent butterflies that always tingle in his stomach
She has become part of his thoughts
The part of his thoughts that makes him smile
Her pure innocence startles him
She remains the beacon of hope
That has become part of his life
As he walks towards the road he is still glaring at the skyline
It’s a night of restlessness
A night that everyone ceases
A night where darkness is day
A night where darkness rules
A night that he crosses the road
And there is loud screech
A screech of the light blue range rover
That sends him back to the roadside
The man in the range rover lowers his window
And points the middle finger to the young man
The one who had handed
Himself to the Range Rover
His fate purely unknown, but he survives this one
He recovers from his thoughts and his heartbeat can
Be measured by his inability to believe he has survived
But then he remembers
The wish
The wish he made when the shooting star appeared
“I would like to get the opportunity to tell her how much I like her”
He still had the opportunity.
Mar 4, 2010
What will the gun do?
President Museveni laying a wreath on the bodies of children killed by the huge landslide in Bududa district on Monday. (Picture From NewVision)
So, what is the gun for? landslides and mudslides cannot be shot at. I wonder what the gun signifies.
Mar 2, 2010
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 amjotting 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
----------------------------------------------------
Dearest Beloved
This is the first letter I am
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 BaldacciFeb 24, 2010
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
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
Feb 16, 2010
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
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
Feb 1, 2010
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.
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.
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.
Jan 29, 2010
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.
Jan 28, 2010
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
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
Jan 19, 2010
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.
Jan 7, 2010
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”
“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”
Jan 6, 2010
twenty 10
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"
Dec 21, 2009
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
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
Dec 15, 2009
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).
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).
Dec 7, 2009
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?
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?
Nov 30, 2009
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.
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.
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