Lemme Give You This...

Happy New Year Mrs. Opondo,

Aye…

I…

Uhmmmmmmm…

I don’t know…

I do not know where to start…Let me try.

I have taken even longer than I had, previously, to write. And to write to you. Again, I apologize, as I did then. How sorry I am! If only I could, I would have said this with a slur. My tongue would have fumbled together an American accent, “Errrrr errm so-er-rry. Isssssss been er minute.”

I am…

If I may, to tell you about my family, I will tell it like my grandmother. This shall be an unwinding tale with only but a pinch of the story.

If I may, to tell you about my family, I start with my own coming into existence. How selfish! A family’s story to start at the tail end! With tales of a last born unfolding before those of older siblings! I must be full of myself! Disrespectful. Another spoilt little brute, just like the pompous last born child of your parents. Since when did last matter as much as first?

Am I the Bible?…

They all left. They left me to independence. That evening, after we had prayed, to bless my new journey and bless the space that would become my first bachelor hood, my family, they left. I had invited them, suddenly, to check out the space that I had found and wished to call my new home, before I left work that evening. They had expected to see the space, and pray for it, a week later. This was…

On a good day, when I bring together the various talents vested in me, I run 1620 footsteps, an upholstery business, together with Christine Mutebi and Canan Kibalama. It thrives on use of African themed designs to breathe life into all sorts of furniture. Home, office, automotive…name it all. Even when we get an inquiry for an item we have not produced before, we take on the task. Because we are…

Who Stole My Sleep

It is a few minutes after 04:00 a.m. when I give up on sleep that night. Eight hours good, six hours fair enough, four hours not good enough, says the doctors. But I do not remember the last time I enjoyed eight hours of sleep. Am I sick? I only went to sleep two hours ago but I already have no more to give my bed.

I wonder what my beddings say to other beddings when they meet for a wash at the…

Often, I go to sleep. Seldom, do I fall asleep. When I go to sleep I sail through the night. When I take the fall, I slip. You cannot wake me up…until it is over. The former is the case every weekday. Because I must wake up early to earn the next taxable shilling, I will myself to visit heaven, to wake up to the sunrise of Kyaninga served with English Breakfast , to go to sleep at the Mestil, and…

Dear Jajja,

Wabitegedde nno!

I drove into a road block a few days ago. My Safe Boda home was breached. Mean looking men waved my driver down with sticks longer than a day at the Dentist’s. Men protecting this nation from its demons. Men who bear cold nights to run after kondos. They stopped us. They scared us into pulling over. We were all terrified at the coldness. Even the motorbike. Its engine…

I have not walked this earth for long but I think a quarter to life is long enough for me to say I have lived. During this time, I have been fed and hogged loads of information. Some I immediately questioned. Some I have held as gospel truth to this day. Or until I have had a chance put it to test. I recently had a chance to test my knowledge about Karamoja during on a work trip that opened my…

There are three things I am certain you will find in all major Ugandan (and East African) townships; Luganda, a rolex kiosk and a restaurant serving local cuisines called Munamasaka.

  I’m always left with a sour taste in the mouth whenever I have to volunteer a compliment especially if I am forced to agree that someone or something is beautiful. Well, some people are indeed beautiful when they wear a disarming smile. So are some things; like mildly peppered salty nsenene, beautifully wrapped nyanya mbisi rolex, and a Saturday morning on paycheck weekend.

The one thing I…

Nze Ndi muna Uganda

A few days back I bumped into an acquaintance who was wearing an ego stroking hoodie whose chest reads nze ndi muna Uganda which when loosely translated means “I am PROUDLY Ugandan.” The chest thumping has been hopping about in my mind since.

If you’re a stranger to a Bantu tongue known as Luganda, I need to apologize for misleading you before we carry on, the hand(s) that painted the hoodie did…

I was doing the dishes when it struck me that I have not been alive through my blog since Uncle Joel’s government left the bush. My blog has lived among the dead all this while. Neither has it got any content from me nor has it seen a visit from anyone. Even weed! Not a single internet lurker. No one with a whole clock on their hands, to unwind, and tonnes of internet bundles staring at his/her…

#Ug55blog: Second User Nation

[Back story] Three days prior to the national celebrations to mark 55 years since the fateful pitch black evening when the Union Jack was lowered to make way for the Uganda National Flag, I scrolled through my phone to make plans for the long weekend. First on my to-do list, was to make good of the numerous we-should-hang-out-soon promises with nearly all my acquaintances from my school-going…

Black but not proud.

In the song Black and Proud, Mr Vegas (real names Clifford Smith) calls out fellow countrymen who are not comfortable in their native skin colour because of its dark pigmentation. He goes on to coax them; “Black and proud, black and proud. Say it out loud, say it out loud. Black and proud, black and proud. Say it out loud, say it out loud.” Before chorusing, “Because me nah bleach me nah bleach…