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....