You, Me And Gin.

You...Me...Our place...

You and your smiling eyes,

That twinkled even when you meant to be serious.

You that had become the dawn of my days

You...that would only rest after you sealed off my nights;

With the warmest of holds

And kisses that wrecked havoc and would linger long after your final seal.

Me...the one you could not get, but the one you had to get

Me and my stoicism and insecurities

Me with my laughing eyes and bleeding heart

Me and my weaknesses, and strengths and a weakness for you

Swearing you'd never have me,

Then, praying you'd never leave me.

Me, You...in our world, our place

Our hushed giggles, our racing hearts,scared to admit

That this was becoming an obsession, that we no longer held the reigns.

Oh, we laughed at the world, we held hands

I couldn't bury deep enough into your arms..

You couldn't get enough of the girl and her face or her small fingers...

Me and You. The world saw us trip...fall over the boundaries we had set

We laughed at them, but they knew better.What we fought to hide,

What we would not admit to ourselves, they saw clearly;

When I swept in and you could not take your eyes away...

When you walked in and the warmth lit up my face.

You, Me...Gin.

I was your addiction, you were my drug,

Gin was our solvent.

Windy nights..warm holds..

Passion...and tenderness

Warmth, laughter and fear...fear of the future

A future that meant we would be no more.

We tempted fate and broke hearts...

You were never mine...

Was I ever yours? 

You, Me, And .
We are buried with the past.

Except the days are filled with quiet reminders of you

And the nights are torturous reminders of what we lost.

I Miss us; You, Me and Gin.

I Miss You. 

TUKOOYE!!!...Continued.

URGGGHHH....

And ends like this.....

Paedophiles.
The statistics are painful. The law is failing the very people it's meant to protect. The attention is turned to suspiciously-dead gay activists. And I have no issues with people's sexual preferences. When they are consenting adults. Not young boys& girls that have their worlds darkened forever by these beasts.

I am all for mental illnesses. I myself are a narcissist. I understand vanity, and greed, and selfishness, and pride..anger is one of my bosom flaws. But to go& damage the physical, mental& spiritual privacy of a child that you should otherwise be protecting is beyond me.

Let us stop this pain..

And I get a lot of sins. Not this one.
That the law does nothing major to cause this evil to stop is incomprehensible. When they dare to look up from their wigs of hypocrisy& corruption, they sentence the pests to 16 years imprisonment. Really. Really????We need Miria Matembe back to active politics. Then we need to have a referendum on how to deal with these creatures. She always favored castration. I second that.
Followed by death. Preferably by slicing off individual body parts. Head goes last.
But the guillotine will do.
Humans have the amazing ability to worsen a problem that is already overflowing with pain. Here's how;

Tacky Tabloids.
I consider myself to be highly cultured. But a juicy piece of gossip will get me. Yes, am not above lugambo. But that doesn't diminish my magnificence. I am the ISH.
But banange, these silly, thick headed and dim witted people who bring buckets of shame upon the writers community need to be quarantined. They are hazardous. Aside kuswazaring us, they pollute the minds of our population. And judging by Episode one of "Who wants to be a millionaire?"-the Ugandan version, the general population is already doing bubbi in matters of the brain. IE, they are not very clever. Popeye lived at Neverland?? MJ must have done a moon-walk in his grave. But forwards. In protest.
Now a tabloid should have nonsensical gossip, we all get that. But if you dare to branch into serious news coverage within the same print, please, please, be serious about it.
Or, hire s.6 literature students to write the stories. Or primary students. If they still have the"News, news" part of class. But do have titles that read,"Horny Jajja, 70, Enters Girl 4."
For the love of God, please be a tad literate. Or humane. But the literate part you clearly missed. Let's try humane.I shall refer to a popular novelist here. Maybe you've heard of him?
John Grisham; "A Time To Kill."
A black man shoots& kills the white men that defile his daughter& leave her for dead. Black man is taken to court. He wins the case. No, it is not obvious that he won. This was in early Mississippi; blacks were not liked very much. Some of the jury had wanted to convict him for murder.
Then this white female juror tells them to close their eyes, and imagine that it was their precious, white,pony-tailed daughters. Being raped by two black men. And they know these men.
What would they do? To the black men?
They voted unanimously, to acquit the man of all charges.
So really, next time that small demon of ill humor, inhumanity& rotten writing makes an appearance on your left shoulder, bind him away.
And go for Bebe Cool. He is good game, he can handle.
After all, he is munene.

OKUKOOWA.
This should read," Tukooye okukoowa." For the cool-generation-mates of mine, this translates to"We are sick and tired of being sick& tired." High5s all around.
Seeing the line this piece has followed, we are clearly all worn out. We are a nation suffering from sun burn, constant thirst& unending perspiration. We are sore from endless bumping, thanks to the pot-holed things they call roads. Then those dwanzis of engineers play with the power sockets. They prefer leaving them turned off. We are an over-heated, dry throated people that is being subjected to endless hours of idleness when the lights go out. Frustrations tend to build at such hours, ideas get a hold& start to grow. Evil ideas nourished by the dark.The part of me that loves mystery would like to think that there is a conspiracy against us the lower peoples.
But we know they're not that bright. So, they are blindly breeding one major monster.
And we shall try to not take the revolutionary lead of our Egyptian comrades. But that might not last long.
We are tired. Patience& all other virtues are out with the heat.

So, from one of the afflicted to whom ever it may concern, 

TUKOOYE!!!

TUKOOYE!!!

It starts like so's....

First off, I'd like to explain the title to this post. For the readers that are not at par with the Luganda lingual. It is not my mother tongue but it has such a knack for ...saying things as they really are. The title word for instance, translates to,"WE ARE TIRED!!!".Now that we are all on board, I'll proceed to rant. Yes, today I shall go off like a back-alley raised child. But I don't really care. Scratch that. I do not care at all. My city;Kampala, has been going down the drain for the longest time& its time I joined the fist-pounders.
Maybe the noise will build up& finally make a sound long enough to attract the right sort of attention.
So without further ado,presenting the reasons why I am pulling my hair out of its roots.A strand at a time.

Feel my pain...??


IT IS HOT IN HERE!!

I am a glass-half-full sort of person. Very optimistic. I believe that one very near day, I shall be able to afford all the shoes in the world. Plus some shares in the Coca-Cola company.
But this heat has dried all the water outta my bubble. Which explains why am looking at the sunny side of things with very unfriendly eyes. The heat has taken the fun out of everything.
Case in point; Happy Hour at Iguana is no more. Heat& cocktails only go well on TV scenes from Miami beaches. Not the same with high body temperature emissions from Kampala's working class. That is toxic.
This heat has worsened my coke addiction, am up to 4bottles from one per day...
And that is not good news for my hips. They bond well with sugar and well...this friendship tends to widen until my jeans cannot contain it.
Buying new denims is always lovely. But when it's 'coz the old ones cannot contain the new curves, well...I get icky& the all the sweating from this heat doesn't help at all. We have started to suffer ailments that we have up to now only read of in Cosmo& Glamor& O!.

Sun burn. Seriously. Afflicting indigenous Kampalans. We as a nation need to join our sweaty palms in prayer for rain.

Kyaba TOO MUCH.

These excuses of roads.
I dare to put my life on the line&say with all the confidence I can muster, that this is the one issue on which all Ugandans agree. The roads are terrible. Horrendous. Shaming. Fill in your choice of word. I believe our city has its higher points but today, I am complaining. For those that might not be in sync with what am saying, let me paint you a picture.

Our roads are pot-holed, they have ridges-yes, like the ones in mountainous areas, they are narrow& with every Ugandan making it a point to purchase a car, several of the roads are now etching their way into the pavements. So-called maintenance works end up with the roads sewn over. With patches at different points that give the poor, poor roads a semblance to the elbow points on Inspector Derrick's jackets. The holes are so deep, rough-edged& when the sun is not taking her bright naturedness a tad too far, they are water-filled. People claim to have seen fish swim in these holes.
The situation is so bad, a radio station once held a competition that promised monetary rewards to anyone who could find an entire road that was void of a pot-hole. No one took that money. And it wasn't for lack of trying. The city doesn't have even one entirely smooth road.
We have a national crisis on our hands. Me& several other Ugandans wonder as to what roads these so-called representatives of the people use. Maybe it helps that their cars are way above the ground, and that the repair costs are covered by our taxes.
But we do not pay taxes because we want to see you cruise by at rush hour, turn on your sirens& literally bully us off the roads. We also be wanting to go home. Especially since most of us actually work.
Here's a thought; widen the roads, actually use the allocated funds to repair the roads. Yes, ALL of the funds. It's not that hard.Then you'll have something to boast of for the next 20years.
You'll get your new rovers next year.
Seriously, we are fed-up.


UMEME
Dear which-ever-incompetent person that runs this even-more-incompetent-sorry-excuse-of-an-organization, quit this little game of hide&seek that you have going on with our wiring systems& light bulbs.These things of turning the darkness on at inappropriate hours are not as cool as you have gotten yourselves to believe.
You do not load shed us on Sundays-any time on Sunday is inappropriate. Most of us stay home all day, doing things such as family lunch, bonding with family members we hardly see during the week. And when that is done, we like to watch TV for the rest of the day. We actually need power for that.
You do not sentence us to darkness at awkward week-day hours. Say, 8pm on a Wednesday night. Maybe you don't keep with the times, but kids need to do their home work. They use computers these days. And those need power to ran. Candles don't quite do the trick.

Like wise,you cannot switch us off at 5am. Normal folk like myself have to press/ iron our clothes. Yes, we understand that you guys have official office garb that only makes contact with power when you're switching us off.
But the bankers, lawyers and other well...other working elite do not have to climb poles to work or pretend to work. So,we cannot throw on over rolls, creased, folded& greased and head to work.

On.,Off..Off...

 Our clients prefer the neat, polished look. And we aim for customer satisfaction. Unlike some people.
Like most service providers in the country, you have mastered the art of shamelessness.

The down side is that only you peeps do the power supply thing. The downer side being, you are prompt at bill presentation. You are pushing your luck here. Seeing as you actually ran out of luck where most of us are concerned, you are pushing your misfortune.
You are nursing a revolution.I kid you not, we shall find a way to replace you.

Mujja 'genda.

The rant goes on....

CAPTIVE.

You found your way into my dreams...again.
You always knew just how to get in:find your way into those parts of me that I held sacred.
You fought your way into my heart...You embedded your face on my mind...
And now you haunt my dreams.

I fight you more each day, fight to forget you, to rub away your mark..
But I fight a victor..You branded me...Made sure the print was permanent... the grip on me, firm.
You accused me of weakness,of running...of giving up.
You saw from the start, how easily I could take flight.I bruised you when I gave up on us.
You saw the weakness that made me put up walls..But held so tight those who got in.

You turned and used my weaknesses against me.
You knew that time was all you had before the demons took over.
So all my time you consumed.You became my waking song..the shadow that followed me all day..
And when night came, the warmth that took away the harshness of the day.
Even as I ran...and put all those questions in your eyes,
Causing pain only I could see.You fought on.

I ran to find freedom, and ease..I ran from you that held me so captive.
Only I ran back to you, with pain in your eyes.And victory in your look.
You that knew me best.And sees the defeat on my face.Defeat you put there.
I ran from you...back to you.You made your way in,swore never to leave.
To torture me back.Now my own dreams master me.
Once a willing captive...now am a haunted prisoner.

 Let Me Go,Please...

ABOUT ME.



Walk, walking...on life's rope.



The thing is, I spent the greater part of my life trying to figure me out. And the only word that can describe what I came up with is; INCONSISTENCY. And that nagged at me..until I realized it is the best answer. Consistency means you're..stagnant. You're not moving anywhere. Consistency means you're playing it safe-aka scared. And for some people, that is okay. For me, it is not. Inconsistency means you're trying..you're learning..you're crying and laughing, you're making mistakes, but you're learning your lessons.It means you're giving people chances, and maybe they're letting you down, but you're learning, about holding on..and knowing when to let go.

Stagnant is okay...but I have no desire to be stuck and safe...but dead..or slowly dying ..or withering away on the inside. Life gets tough. So what?Tell me something I don't know. But not even the one who made us ever promised endless sun. It rains, but eventually the sun will come out.Some times eventually seems like forever, I know. But it will brighten up...yes, it will.

So, live..out loud..love to your toe tips(I place a disclaimer on this, though. For obvious reasons.)..take some risks, get out of your cocoon...eat sea food..but stay away from the froggies-nothing looking that way can be even remotely tasty...show the world your gifts..dare to be..ALIVE. Oh,stop whining!!the pain shan't kill you. Get away from consistency, and normal, and safe, and traditional, and people-pleasing.
Life is always going to be risky, and some times hurtful, and on the really messy days,Life will be plain& outright gut-wrenching...and painful to the point of numbness. BUT, if it hasn't killed you, it hasn't won.

 I am all for taking chances, because that means you have moved..off your knees, onto your feet..head bowed, but off the ground.
Maybe you haven't completely cut off the chains, but you have rattled them. And that is it; little rattles wear down the chains eventually.

ABOUT ME; In a word, INCONSISTENT. And proudly so.

" You only have one life. But if you work it right, once is enough."

The Facts Of Life ;Part Two.

Life Goes On.
I have lived through extremely dark nights, and very shadowy days. I have had pain live in me to the point that it became a normal acquaintance which I didn't try to chase away.
It was easier that way.
I have carried the pain of those that matter the most to me, cried with them, prayed with them and for them. And have had several of these pleas go unanswered. But still had to get up, dress up& show up.
The world will not stop because your soul mate just died or because the love of your life just became the pain of your life. It will keep keeping on.And you will cry, scream, curse at God..or if you're anything like me, you will let yourself be human and tell a friend that you're falling apart.
But the light will find a way in...Life will go on.
Whether you stay in the past re-living its horrors, or move the heck on, it shall go on.
I will move the heck on. I don't like being behind the program. And this is a temporary one.
Life, that is.

Someone else is In Charge Here.
I went through a long period of mindless torture that I lost my faith for a long time. It helped that my BFF was in the same boat.We figured we wouldn't be puppets to a cynical creator any longer.
So we set sail, alone. With the most amazing of friends by us, but without faith in a higher power. And we made it. It was tough but we endured.
And then I think about it now and I realize He never left. We walked, but He'd given us each other. He made sure we were safe. He couldn't force His stay so He found a way to remind us that it is never that bad.
Life can be crappy. Scratch that.
Life gets shitty. On this side of the galaxy, anyway.
Nothing is certain.We're on borrowed time. We're leaving this place at different times...there are tougher times ahead.
I admit it scares me to bits to not be totally in charge of the future. I have buried two friends...
Stella and Faith..Have a peaceful rest...and be happy. You messed up a lot of people, though. Yes, I am one of them.
That took the life out of me in ways only my bedroom floor can comprehend. It absorbed all the tears from my collapsed body...my pillow still suffers wet& drenched nights...Life can take the life out of you.
And to trust a power which doesn't consult you before wrecking havoc in your life is almost impossible. But it keeps hope alive. And on the cruel days, Hope can mean the difference between giving up and the next step.
And the next step always means a new start.
Someone mightier is in charge here. That's all I need to know.

Incredibly Cool-U2.

Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own.
First& foremost, I would like to thank the incredibly amazing and popular rock band,U2, for coming up with the phrase that's the title to this paragraph. One line is all I can use to credit them though. I prefer my attention undivided.
To the point. This life that we have been blessed with can on countless occasions get taxing. In a really irritating way, if the mode of stress that day happens to be the tasteless pick up line of say, a market vendor.Mbu, "size yange..."
Or the endless on-hold customer care call to these telecom companies.."Please Hold... followed by...boring tone..."
On the bad, bad days, events will fall apart like a Chinese made Iphone. And as much as you will it to, the ground shall not open up to swallow you. And to top it off, sleep shall evade you. But these moments have solutions;

Just pluck out that green...thingy..

• Prayer; Words, hymns, mysteries.Or novenas. All accord some sort of peace.
• Food; Has to be really oily, creamy,sugary or meaty to achieve the desired effect. Dodo will only depress you more. So shall matooke. 
• Music; I prefer the rock genre, but Bieber 
• seems to work for some people. So does P-Square. Miley Cyrus has moved people from depression to insanity. Her voice should be labeled as potentially life threatening. Especially when she speaks. That is lethal. And that is not a compliment.

ALCOHOL; I would like to state with ALL certainty that alcohol is the best antidote to depressing days. It makes you silly-happy, then some how gets it into your head that you can pull off all the dance strokes from the latest, funkiest video.That you look more spirit-possessed than groovy shall not matter to you. Alcohol boosts self esteem.

• Then it causes you to fall into a deep slumber, leading to a morning with no recollection of the previous night's activities. Alcohol helps you forget.
• But if your mind manages to drag up any last-night memories, worry not. Alcohol shall present you with a hangover so bad...&all associated symptoms such as blinding headaches,you will not have the energy to nurse remorse. 
• Alcohol has amazing powers. It is one of my super powers.
• To Gin and Tonic. I owe you several.

I came into this world to live out L.O.U.D.

The Facts Of Life; Part One.

I have been around for a few years. On this planet, I mean. And as a I get older but not necessarily wiser, I have come to a few conclusions. Life is not a written script, we have more power than we can ever imagine. Over our dreams, the decisions we make, the dreams we follow, or let go of, the friends we keep close or lose through sheer laziness, the food we eat, aka Domino's beef burgers& coke for lunch VS a healthy salad..yuck,yuck..

Yes, some things we can maneuver. But then other things, which are some of the most defining, well...we find ourselves at the center of a drama, with no recollection of even agreeing to star in the damn thing, in the first place.

Its been a long& intense 20something years. Scenes change, the faces keep changing, but some things well..stay the same. Wrapped different for differing scenarios, but yes, the same;

Love Can Break Your Heart.

And it doesn't have to be that boy that made your heart skip or the girl that somehow got through your tough manly layers. Love is...wider than the romantic, and so is heartbreak. It is your first best friend dying of cancer before you're done with primary school. It is your father, the man who also happens to have been your first love, falling off so high a pedestal and taking your young heart with him.

It is also watching a woman you love, adore and respect so much, suffer for a love that is clearly domed to fail. It is watching your young face succumb to shadows, and feel the iron wring its way around your heart. When you're a child, Love can break you in ways psychologists have failed to clearly define..

And when you're growing up, it it is the ignorance that your first love shall last forever that I believe re-opens old wounds...and loving and believing in that man that continuously breaks your heart. You cry, close up your heart for a while, until the next son of God walks your way..and your heart skips a beat...

In brief, the heart is treacherous, it doesn't know what it wants. It does not obey you.Suffocate it.Be the boss of it. None of that pain is worth it. None.

Men are Easy. 

Yes, they are.Read on;

• They like to eat.
• The majority like beer.
• They don't like shopping or Spanish soaps.
• Very few can keep up with a paragraph. Give them pictures. Or stick men.
• Short skirts and heels get them. ALL THE TIME.
• Ditto fitting jeans. On a nicely curved booty.
• I hear lingerie brings stars to their eyes.
• When a man wants a girl in any sort of way, stand aside please. Earth and heaven shall be moved.
• And yes, they hurt. It will never show. But if you look carefully, many of them have shadowed and dead eyes. Their light is out.
• Their fears rally around money, being able providers, and being able to afford sleek cars. 

See, we complicate these species. Mostly 'coz we refuse to use our minds. But hey, when you're done burying your head in the sand, you won't believe how short the distance to the surface is.

God has a sense of humor.
How else dare someone call this messed up human species His highest creation? We blow people up in His name,and He still lets us live. We are petty enough to judge people based on tribal affiliation and religion, we have somehow managed to reduce the planet to a near-breaking point, and we invent games like cricket. Seriously.
But He doesn't wipe us out. He sends us the sun, and the rain, and children because we are so filled with our vanity that we have lost touch with what matters. And then we subject those children to Stone Cold Steve Austin& have the guts to turn to Him when they make cocaine their best friend.
He made roaches, house flies and cats. He is very funny. These creatures only affirm the fact that God isn't above amusement.I think they keep Him sane on the days when we decide to take 13year old girls& make them sex slaves.
If I were God, I'd have blown the whole lot of you to shreds by now. And then blown you up again.
Just to make sure.
Then I'd go back to my slimy& winged creatures.And smile. At least they get the concept of peaceful co-existence. But then I am not God.
Lucky fools.

Fate Is A Woman.
Women are complicated. Our mind wiring is interconnected, intertwining, and yet so loosely connected. We spend hours scouting stores for the perfect brooch to a dress, and we have no qualms about dragging the men who claim to love us along. Constant re-assurance. We really like that.
A woman'll whip up an amazing meal, love you even& especially when you don't deserve it. And just when you're about to crown her a saint, she'll bust the windows out of your car. And blame it on hormones.
We're deep like that.
But we're also the strongest creation ever made. We'll smell another perfume but still serve your dinner, and make breakfast for your kids, and put up with your whinny mother& sisters. A woman will spend the night sobbing but layer up  her eyes in mascara and smile at the world. We do battle best but love the hardest.
We will hug you, but find a way to stick that knife in really deep...especially if you're another woman and the man on your hand really appeals to us. These things are never personal. I swear.
Now,the connection with fate; The perfect man is taken...to the point where no home-wrecking tip will help you.., the person that loves you rightest cannot stir up even an inch of a heart-race, but the one who walks all over you mindlessly makes your heart soar. The heart is stupid. Fate is never clear- you make your bed& someone else lays in it, you get wealthy but fail to find love, you're the nice guys all the girls love...but not that way.
We are a cruel species.We make men and break kings and give birth to Hitler-like villains but also to the saints and Messiahs.
What you see is what you get. But most of the time, it isn't.
I love being a woman. Complexity comes naturally. Men need the Grand Prix for that.

Part Two....In the making.




























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