What: Friday Nyte Out with Sqoop
When: Tomorrow, 25th September, 2009
Where: Blue Haze. Former Cheese Bar
How to get in: among the 1st 150, just show the Sqoop Magazine of Friday 25th. After 150 people, just pay 5k.
The deal: they will tell you that Grace Nakimera(hi Sleek, Nev and Normzo), GNL (yay!), Bobi Wine, Estar and the Nu Lyfe Dancers will perform. They might even add that Richard T. K and Zuena wiil host. But isn’t it just enough to know that I will be there?
Ok. See you!
What: Public reading
When: Thursday 17th September 2009 at 4:00pm
Where: the National Theatre Auditorium.
theme: A Reading Family: Linking Reading to Nation Building.”
The intention of this event is to promote Ugandan Creative Writers and encourage reading especially of Ugandan authored books.
The main authors who will read from their work are Dr. Susan Kiguli (The African Saga), Lillian Tindyebwa (Recipe For Disaster), Dr. Patrick Mangeni (A Leopard In My Bed and Other Stories), Captain Ulysses Chuka Kibuuka (Of Saints And Scare Crows), and Joseph Mugasa (Pulse Of The Pearl). Other authors include the three winners of The Beverly Nambozo Poetry Award and Lantern Meet of Poets group.
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When the Rwandan genocide took place, i was 8 years old and i really did not understand what the whole thing was about. save fo the fact that my dad was always in serious meetings, made sure to call a certain place every day at the same time without fail and that whole thing of people’s fingers in fish, i just could not understand the magnitude of what was happening.
I have often heard people call Rwandans mean and hardhearted people who could kill their own. I have even heard people say that such a thing would never happen in Uganda or any other country because no one can be as ruthless as those ‘banalwanda’.
during the Mabira Saga there was a threat on the lives of Indians here in Kampala and i just could not believe the course we were taking. and then the post colonial violence in Kenya left me speechless because whereas we had pretended to be so heart broken by the genocide in Rwanda, we had not learnt a single thing!
and now there is this Bafuruki thing going on and the Kabaka-Kayunga saga and i am so scared of what might happen to us!
you see, i was seated in a taxi this morning when CBS broadcast it’s morning news. ofcourse the Kayunga thing was among the top stories. there was a man infront of me who was so infuriated and this is what he said: ” Ye lwaki bajooga Kabaka waffe bwebatyo?…hmmm?…Tebamanyi nagwebazannya naye. Tujakubookya! Nze singa naliyo eyo ekayunga tewali munyala yandivuddewo mulamu!” (Why are they undermining our Kabaka?…They don’t even know who they are playing with…We will BURN them! Me if i had been in Kayunga no munyala would have left alive!”)
I have Kiganda blood in me but i am terrified by Baganda. not because they are bad people but because they have power that is so silently potent and loyalty that is so extreme(you remember how they literally brought New Vision to it’s knees) it scares me…and frankly i don’t even get what this Kayunga thing is about! But it is the sentiments of such people like the man in the taxi that scare me so. and make me realise that the genocide was not limited to ‘mean and hard hearted banalwanda’ but that it is something that we should all be afraid will take over our hearts.
i’m just worried. let’s see how the Kabaka’s tour turns out this saturday.
What: Xtreme 2020: a christian jig
When: 24th July 2009
In attendance: Nev,Walkonby, SolodawgKing, The Node Six Crew plus a guy I am inclined to believe is the Emrys, Heaven! and (much later) Sleek…and other people.
You can read more on this at Nev’s.
Now, the photographic evidence.
1. the fashion show
2. the music
a)the guy who can undoubtedly give Isaiah Katumwa a run for his money. Brian Mugyenyi
b. Isaac Rucci, Rockamilley, Pragmo: whose pictures are refusing to upload and i am not really known for patience. apologies…ok let me try again…
ok…it has refused!
3. the bloggers that represented
Alrightie then…hope y’all are doing well.
Not Waving but Drowning
Nobody heard him, the dead man,
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.
Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he’s dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
They said.
Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.
Stevie Smith
Angela Kintu (my links are acting up. http://www.angelakintu.com) whispered the story to me. I would never shoot you, Angela. You are in my She’s All That book. So thank you.
And I won’t waste anymore of your time:
As she started the car, Ellyn debated whether she should go to the supermarket first or run to Raymond-her quick fix of normalcy. The supermarket trip was her alibi and so there was no question of not going. But then again what if the stay at Raymond’s took longer than she could anticipate?
Ellyn decided to go to the supermarket first. That way nothing would be hovering over her head as she enjoyed her time with Raymond. She hurriedly walked around the supermarket to get her evidence that she was indeed at the supermarket. Bread, Kellogg’s breakfast cereal, more flour for Jacob’s ingenious baking, a new bottle for Sarah…and oh crap! The mouth wash!
On the way to the counter, she quickly looked at the notice board and stopped in her tracks. There on the notice board was a pale girl with her leg holstered midair lying in a hospital bed. The announcement said that the girl had lost both her parents and her three siblings in a car accident only she had survived. Samantha, for that was her name, was slipping in and out of consciousness and the nearby local church was beseeching people to join them in prayer for the 17 year old orphan.
No they were not asking for money. Not even clothes. Not even a new home for her. Giving some of these things was often easy because then they would have given her something tangible. They were asking that people pray for the girl for her life to make sense again. They were now the family whose prayers would embrace her and perhaps help her to want to live again.
Instinctively, Ellyn’s thoughts ran to her children. She wondered what would happen to them if anything happened to her.
Would they remember to dress Sarah in her diaper in such a way that the fastener would not dig into her skin and hurt her?
Would they remember that she loves having honey in her milk?
Would they remember to give Jacob his medicine?
And if John was gone too, who would take Jacob for his nature walks?
Blinded by the tears in her eyes, Ellyn could not even remember when or how she approached the counter, paid for her groceries and walked away to her car.
With the windows up, she finally let it all out! She wept for the child she had got from hospital who was perfect in ways that scared her and imperfect in ways that seemed to matter. She wept for the husband she had lost to the child. She wept for Sarah-her beautiful angel whose life was undoubtedly going to be affected because of her brother in ways she could not predict. She wept because she had been so taken up with the family that she could not remember the last time she had reveled in her hobbies-reading and writing. She wept because she was so scared of what she knew she had to do to put it all together again.
After what seemed like eternity, Ellyn started her car to a destination she had no idea of. She decided to go to a different park from the one she was sure her family was at and try to pull herself together.
It had been ages since she had taken her children to the park. Most women there were always whispering something about Jacob like he was a strange disease and so she had decided to protect him by not taking him to the park. John had insisted that they do not deny Jacob a normal childhood and when she was tired of fighting over the issue with John, she had relented on condition that he would take them.
She had never stepped in a park since and going there today made her wish she had never stopped coming. There was always a certain brightness about the park. Children running around chasing each other. Truth is, that running around always freaked out the mothers sometimes and they could not help but yell out, “Careful or you’ll fall sweetheart!” but it delighted them because it was the testimony that their children were normal and it was sometimes a nostalgic reminder of how blithe life had once been.
As she settled on a bench under a shade, two boys wheezed past her, one in pursuit of another they almost knocked her over. The pursuer was screaming, “I am going to finish you off, you silly alien! I am the powerful Ben 10!
After watching the children for a while and occasionally wiping the tears that defiantly refused to be blinked back, one of the boys walked over to her and with is doe eyes asked, “Hello. Why do you have thad eyeth?”
Ellyn was endeared by the lisp and yet startled by the question that all she could say was, “Because I want to collect some insects for my son who loves insects but I am scared of them and I brought no tin?”
“How about if I teach you how not to be afraid of the inthectth and I lend you my tin? You can bring it back tomorrow?” he offered.
“Won’t your mummy get upset?” she answered touched by the unexpected kindness.
“No. she hateth that I love to collect inthectth.”
“So if I say yes, will you tell me something?”
“Yeth?”
“Is this something normal that kids your age do? Collecting insects?”
“I gueth tho. Thome inthectth are really funny. Come on, let me show you.”
And that is how Ellyn managed to take five bizarre looking insects for her son aside from the flour.
She decided to prepare the family’s favourite meal: spaghetti, minced meat with a sprinkle of garlic as she waited for them to get home.
When she heard the noise at the front door she rushed to welcome them.
“Look! It’s my favourite family.”
“We are the only family that can stand you babe…Hmm…Shopping agrees with you. You look a lot more cheerful that you did when you went.” John said.
“Really? I’m just so happy to see you guys.” She said as she hugged her family. A little longer and too tightly perhaps.
“Guess what I got you?”
She was so proud of herself she could not wait to give her bottle of insects to Jacob. Hours before, she could not have believed that such a thing would excite her.
She got out her treasure and handed it to Jacob. And that earned her a high-five-her son’s biggest expression of emotion!
“Oh Sarah dear of course mummy couldn’t forget you. I got you the most beautiful bottle in the store…and a flower for your hair.” Sarah clapped her hands clumsily and bent her head towards her mother for the flower to be fixed.
“What do I get? John asked, feigning dissatisfaction.
“The best meal for my eldest baby!” she looked at John ever so fondly!
As she watched her family enjoying their dinner, she could not help but be thankful for her blessings…and Raymond ebbed to the back of her mind. A distant foggy memory.
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Why had she not showed up?
Had her husband found out?
Did she suddenly not like him?
He had done everything she had asked him.
Should he call and find out… But they had agreed that they would never call each other and always set their next appointment when they met. Of course he had her number. It had been in the file they had given him when they told him to get in touch with her.
As he pondered his next move, the vibration of the phone on his bed startled him.
Could it be her?
The caller I.D revealed what he had feared the most. He had to give them an update of their meeting and he knew this was going to be a nasty conversation!
END( for now)
Now, because Erique has been on our cases to have our stories turned in on time (and threatening to take all the fun in Blogger whispers), I am whispering it to you Erique (http://rentedmess.wordpress.com). Cos I will blow your fcuking head off if you don’t do it on time.
Good luck dear!
Just a day after Spanish football star Xabi Alonso called on FIFA to ban vuvuzela horns, Spanish fans have called on the football body to ban Africans.
“They are just so black,” said fan Enrique de Torquemada. “And there are so many of them here in Africa. It is very upsetting.”
Meanwhile South Africans have asked the Spanish to stop lisping. Alonso was widely quoted this week referring to vuvuzelas as an “annoyance” that should be banned. However, FIFA godfather Sepp Blatter has defended the horns. “South African football is all about noise, excitement, shouting and enjoyment,” he said. “And sometimes goals. But mostly just noise.” Alonso’s South African hosts say they are taking the star’s complaints seriously, despite “Xabi” meaning “doos” in the ancient San language. “Obviously as a footballer Mr Alonso is a very unique person,” said Confederations Cup local organizer Sonnyboy Laduma. “I mean, it’s not everyone who has a Grade 9 education, is unemployable after 35, and who spends hours every day training to kick an inflated sack in to a net, who then tries to dictate the culture of another continent.” However, Laduma confirmed that Alonso was not alone in feeling that Africa needed to change to suit Spanish tastes. He said that thousands of Spanish supporters had signed a petition asking FIFA to ban not only vuvuzelas but Africans as well. “Apparently when they bought their airline tickets nobody told them that Africa is full of Africans,” explained Laduma.
According to fan Ignacio Tortilla, the Confederations Cup has been an “ordeal”.
“Wherever you look it’s just Africans,” he said. “Please don’t get me wrong, I’m not a racist, but do they really have to be so aggressive with all the singing and smiling and hand-shaking?” Florida de Porpoise, a retired Jew-bater from Barcelona, said he would have no problem with Africans “if they only tried to be more European”. “We’re not asking for a lot,” said de Porpoise. “Just perhaps a little hair relaxant, some cigarettes, and an overwhelming sense of the futility of hope.”
Meanwhile, a delegation of South Africans has asked visiting Spaniards to stop lisping. “For God’s sake, English is our sixth language and we can still say ‘s’,” said Jumpstart Moloi, who led the delegation to the Spanish embassy this morning. “It’s not Nelthon Mandela, okay? It’s Nelson. Nelssssson.” He also appealed to Spaniards to “think long and hard” before asking locals for directions to Thanton Thquare and the thocker thtadium at Thocker Thity. “Spanish is just such a freaking ugly language,” said Moloi. “It’s all just ‘eth eth eth eth’. FIFA should do something.”
[H!: Now this last bit is just too funny!]
In my phone book, there is a number saved as ‘First Love’. It is my dad’s. I cannot think about my dad without thinking about Indie.Arie’s Wonderful, the song she sang for Stevie Wonder (who I am totally in love with but this is about my daddy) especially the part that says:
You inspire me the way you make me feel inside is amazing
Your honesty your artistry is engaging
You are everything I hope to be
You have touched my soul I want you to know you are my hero
You got so much soul to put it plain and simple you are wonderful
The thing that I look up to my dad for the most is his strength. If there is anyone the world has not been fair to, it has to be him. I have seen my father’s dreams vanish. I have seen him at points where I could have sworn it was the end of the world. I have seen him in moments where I could have panicked and asked “what now?” but most importantly I have seen him dust himself up and move on. And if there is anything I could ever thank him for giving all of us, it is this. I have been comforted to see this same strength in my siblings. I am not saying that we are all hardcore and never feel the pains of life but I have seen my siblings go through some hard times of their own with as much cheer and strength as they can master. I have been consoled o see them blink their tears back to provide strength for a weaker person and I have seen them walk away from a loss, hurt yes, but with more determination.
A couple of years back, my father found the Lord in a new way. Yes he used to take us to church when we were younger and so we knew the importance of the salvation but his new conviction and relationship with God is humbling. It is one thing to see one of your friends get born again. It is another thing to see someone who has gone before you and seen it all surrendering to God in prayer and seeing him let go of his children and dedicating them to the Lord. This is the reason my father is always the first to know when I am about to do exams or a job interview or make an important decision. He is the one I will call on seemingly trivial issues such as, “what would you do if I dated a Muslim man?”
One thing I also know for sure is that my dad would never ever give up on me however much I messed up. My mother would despair: my dad would be disappointed but he would not cease to remind me of who I am supposed to be. I have seen him do this with my siblings and I have seen it in the way he has reached out to me when I have questioned my relevance on earth-through simple ways like calling me to remind me what the meaning of my name is. My sister has come to know that when I say, “I badly need to talk to daddy”, it means that I am at the brink of a life changing moment or I am just not feeling like myself. Because my dad not only helps find myself, he helps me find God over and over again
And yes, I am one of those girls who want to marry a man like my dad. A man my children will look up to and know that everything is going to be ok. A man who will tell my kids to believe in themselves and know that they can be whatever they want to be. A man that will remind them that even the sky is not the limit. A man whose eyes they will look into and be comforted by the strength of the people that have gone before them!
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Because i had to stick to a certain word count, i could not add that my dad is the reason why i love reading. He taught me that words(and therefore books) are very powerful.The people I admire the most in this world are people who read and buy books and nothing really gives me so much joy as buying a book or reading a good book!
