I am an artist and I have no apology!

The night owl that quarantine has turned me into, let me check my phone screen in the wee hours of the night; 4am to check the time. I didn’t just check the time though. My eyes loomed around the screen the and I spotted a weather forecast notification. It read, “Expect rain at 6:00am. And it’s 6:40am the world outside is soaking! Wow.

I agree with the president scientists are very important people in our society. Even the mobile phone I am using to let the world know about my amusement this morning is a brainchild of scientists. He’s right they are fit for the prize.

However, the good English, the creativity to let you want to read the next word, and the next and the next and the words are sweet, that was not taught to me by a scientist, nope! In my opinion it’s yin and Yang. Like day and night to make it a complete 24 hour day. We need each other. Quarantine would be hell. The rope, poison and other suicide aids businesses out there would be thrilling with business and profits in this quarantine. The human kind would be finding reason to end their lives if there was no Money Heist, Prison Break, Designated Survivor, Netflix and our own Quinamino! That is all thanks to artists!

We deserve a fair share for keeping the populance sane. We deserve a mention for putting a smile on people’s faces when there would have been no reason to. We deserve a mention for keeping telecom companies run by tech-engineers in business. Who would have wanted to survey the streets of Mark Zuckerberg’s app without wanting to see an Aziad Nasenya wiggle her waist. We are not there to see those engineers shift a chunk on a floating island away from that dam, he’ll no! We are there to keep the boredom at bay and the tears away.

I am artist and I have no apology.

Drops the mic

Prison Break Vs Money Heist.

Well, well, well, here’s a tough one but it’s not as a tough as I expected before I set my eyes on the former TV series.

Let’s get down to the nitty gritty. With both series safely pasted into my photographic memory, I can proudly say it’s done and dusted! I have watched both episode after episode religiously! It was a heck of a good job by both writers, I swear it was. I can only give a standing ovation here! Hats off, these writers pulled it off. They’re worth a mention.

So, my verdict on the the big debate. But before I give my verdict, I appeal to whoever will need an intellectual arguement about my verdict, please feel free, be my guest. Let’s meet in the comment section.

Here we go:

*When we talk of The Professor in Money Heist we are talking of a genius. When we talk of Scofield in Prison Break, we are talking of a virtuoso! Believe that! This guy Scofield pulled off scary escapes one time too many times!

*When we talk of Berlin in Money Heist, we are talking of a commendable performance. When we talk of T-Bag in Prison Break, we are talking of an exceptional performance. I couldn’t help but SMH at the ingenious acts this creepy Mouf*** pulled off in Prison Break! T-Bag is was a real burg I am telling you. A real pain in the ass!

*Finally, when we talk of Money Heist, we are talking about a slice of a pizza. When we talk about Prison Break, we are talking about a whole pizza with an extra bottle of Mountain Dew! Pheeeeeew…

***Drop the mic***

Story time!

Grab a seat.

The previous day had been a Sunday. That Sunday bad been a rigorous day for me. We had played a football match And earned a hard fought victory against lads from the neighbouring village.

In the match, I had failed to score a spot kick. The worst experience I ever had in a soccer game was that. I remember feeling so low and out. We couldn’t afford to lose that match. This was a do or die for us, a make it break, a go hard or go home. We weren’t competing for any prize. It was a question of ego. Here was us on one side who had for long boasted of being incomparable. According to us, we were in no one’s league around. We were the best soccer kids around until one naughty kid from the neighbouring village dared us to a a football match. We almost beat him up. How could he? In his naughtiness, he added arrogance in a statement he told us.

“How about you beat me in the pitch if you defeat us. And if you don’t defeat us, we’ll do the same to you,” he said arrogantly.

Dear me, this was a slap in the face. How could he? How dare he? How could he say such? We decided to prepare tooth and nail and make sure we avoided being dehumanised to that extent. The match turned out to be bloody on that day. We couldn’t afford to be defeated. Then here was me who had misused a spot kick. I had to work my nail to the bone to make sure we didn’t lose. Be it walking off that match with a broken limb. Yes, I worked my ass off and lucky enough I managed to provide an assist that led to a goal. Then go ahead to lead to another penalty. I was fouled in the box. And of course the spot kick was given to someone else. I was so okay with it, my confidence was shaken already. The spot kick was converted into a goal and there we were, victors finally. We went home with a 2-0 hard earned victory. We had no power left to fight our proud rivals thereafter as we had agreed to do after the match. The match had drained us. Our rivals went back with their heads bowed low, that to us was enough beating in the match and after the match. That evening I went home happy but not as happy as I should have if I had converted that spot kick, you know.

“Won’t you take a shower?” my mother asked after observing me do a quick face, arms and legs washing and attempting to end there.

I didn’t reply to this pertubing question. I was sure that was a simple command not a question the way it sounded. So I ate humble pie undressed and miserably washed me, my whole body. But truth be told, I didn’t feel as fresh thereafter, the match was too rigorous. I wonder if it wasn’t ‘attempted murder’ of the sort me not intending to take a full shower in the beginning!

Fast forward, morning came. It was a Monday. This was not holiday time, it was schooling time and I was a day-schooler. As usual, mum woke me up too early to prepare for school. Believe you me, I hardly could move an itch. The ruins from the previous day’s football match were still taking toll on me.

“Mum, I am no feeling fine,” I lamented.

“Watandika haza,” she replied. This literally means, “you’re at it again.”

Whenever I heard this statement. I knew trouble was looming around the corner. You know African mums. They usually have signature statements that make an alarm. My mother is not an exception. ‘Watandika haza’ used to be her signature statement that alerted me of trouble. All my efforts to skip school that day fell on a dead lock end. From faking a headache, to faking a tablet chocking, to faking a broken limb. I ended up being late at school, being caned for late coming and sweeping the whole class alone! That day was numb for me! However, a week later, that match earned me a placement into the school team. Our games teacher got to know about the match. That’s how I got into the school’s second team!

Who’s wrong Vs who’s right.

Writing from an impartial point of view, allow me to express my view about the on going frenzy at the ivory tower. For starters, it’s nolonger at ease at the Uganda’s main institution of higher learning reason being the discomfort brought about by the annual cumulative 15% tution increment. The 15% tution increment will see the next generation of joining students pay a 15% increased tution structure from the previous year for the 5 next generations. For that matter therefore, a section of female students from the institution in question deemed it wise to start a campaign they dubbed, “I shall not sell my body for marks anymore,” Inspired by the fact that girls are constantly opening theirs legs wide to have an extra buck for tution. The campaign has since evolved into a shorter title campaign, “Fees must fall.”

I am currently in Kikoni Makerere at ‘The Hub’ (read my place or we’ll talk about ‘the hub’. I think you should know why it’s called so). Away from that, I can hear chants fro a far, weeeeweeee… is what I hear. For anyone who’s had any affiliation with Makerere University, the chant in question is not news but memories! It’s been a bloody week last week and students are set to start from exactly where it ended. It’s bloody Monday again it has started already at 12:00 midnight! This past week of no class, I presume someone’s daughter’s dream might have been shattered already. She came to campus and a strike saw her run for refugee to the nearest friend’s ‘gwa’. The friend probably took advantage of the little damsel and after 9 months results will surface! Those results will be the same results her life will change for the worst forever.

To add on, a certain boy whose education is not only a hope for his family but for the entire clan, subcounty, county and the district at large has also been thrown to the dogs. This boy has been probably arrested and dumped in a dock somewhere in Wandegeya and after this an expulsion letter from Barnabus ‘Leopard’ awaits him. I also amagine mama boy’s family now sleeps on hungry bellies because she’s a bread winner of the family and her night roasted Kasoli business does not work anymore. She’s scared of the bloody everything that just happens anytime anywhere near the hill. Probably a certain Mugume who is waiting for January to see parousia is scared for the worst! His dream to put on a graduation gown and hat could be shuttered. In this our Banana Republic anything is possible. A certain son of Esteri Kokundeka is capable of closing the institution for good and setting a military barracks, he talked of it sometime! And he can do it apparently he’s a found cornfy in doing the undoable!

I personally think that 15% incriment is a sham! It’s null and void, it’s pertabing, it a pain in the rear, it’s a ghore, a nightmare so diabolic, I hate it, I detest it and if any chance I would have joined forces with those against it to say ‘NO’ to it! It’s just plain clear that with such a policy Makerere University will have no space for a middle class citizen’s child! The alarm has been made, blood has been shed, tear gas has been spread. All said and done, what’s only left is one thing, FEES MUST FALL.

In my opinion ‘Fees must fall’ is right!

Hunger and boredom can make you notice things so peculiar…

Hunger and boredom are two partners that will make you realise your environment when they strike at once. Seated in the PEPEA Africa office this afternoon at National Theatre, the two partners in question struck and made me realise how Kibuli mosque looks beautiful from a far viewed by the panoramic view from the office.

I have sat in the same spot like I was today for a week now but I had never realised how beautiful it is, or even realised that Kibuli mosque is across. Boredom struck first, to beat it I grew picky first, taking stuff from one place to another, then back and then repeatedly did the routine until I grew accustomed to it and finally bored by it, again. In so doing, I was burning calories and therefore energy was being wasted for naught! To replace the energy, hunger struck!

Hooo, the mixture now started mixing me. Calories were burnt out, energy was wasted out and the tummy needed a fill up. Movement back and forth had to cease because I could no longer do with ease! I decided to seat and relax! Relax? Relax my foot! How can you relax with a grumbling tummy and a routine so empty wanting something so yummy to fill it with? So I was there thinking about what to do and what to eat. My eyes lousily fell across and met a site so beautiful; Kibuli mosque.

The ornamented outdoor walls, the green environment, the hill so beautiful, the palm trees that stand erect and elegant! I was like wow! How come I have never noticed it? I starred to my fill. Noticed all the nitty gritty components about the area. At least I got an eye nutrition. The stomach nutrition is still pending up to… My God up to now?! 😧

I am sorry… You’re either that ultimate one or nothing more.

Hello out there, I thought this is important for all concerned parties! Listen up…

I will say these words here tonight so that whoever is concerned will take heed and whenever a change is noticed this will be a reference point.
I have heard woes with friends who are not like me. Friends who don’t put on pants because that’s their natural outfit but because a trend has come among us and made us equals. I am okay with it, I ain’t being a male chevinist, nop! I have endured a long time of finding one ultimate two in one friend to call my personal person, yes! Sadly and ironically true! This is not because I have no qualifiers or have a natural hinderence or a curse perhaps or I am among the sway of of human beings who find pressure in boning with people like themselves! Nop, I swear to God I am straight!

Where has the problem been?! It’s been in the fact that I have tolerated all, every day of my life. Given my self to all! Attended to all, loved all! Yes, brothered all, cousined all, best friended all! My God, pampered all. My name has been a friend, a ‘one of them’ an ‘our darling dear Ian’ a listener to us! A Jamal of the sort. This has not made it just difficult but also impossible for the one ultimate one to come to my life. Because there’s no space for her! So what has happened? I have everyone and no one has me! (I beg that you read this again and again to fully understand the dilemma!)

For that matter therefore, my ‘circles, darlings, cousins, mummies, sisters, b.fs, blah blah’ we are still friends and nothing! Your are either that ultimate personal person or nothing else. Its just that one or no one else. I am sorry!

May the day break.
*********To whoever it may concern*******

Tried to let go but you failed to?

Learning to let go is maturity, yes I agree. Letting go is giving yourself inner peace, sure! Letting go helps you to focus on more important things in your life, I can’t agree more! Letting go, gets you happier with what you have and makes you want to achieve more, correct! Letting go, is a virtue you only get to appreciate when you succeed. And so on and so fourth… The list is endless.

Now, what if all those things up there don’t happen? What if you try and fail, what if you don’t get inner peace, what if the thought of letting go doesn’t vanish from one’s thought and keeps haunting you and you can’t find the happiness. What if that you ought to let go of is what was pivotal in a future you want to live?! What if…? This big question is the gist of today’s simple write up! When letting go becomes a hard nut to crack, when all efforts to achieve letting go of hit a dead lock end, it means something!

You love that thing, you love that job, you love that lady, you love that man. You have a future… It’s worth fighting for, it’s worthy for keeps! It’s not worth giving up on. You can’t keep giving up on everything, on everyone, on all situations otherwise when will you jubilate for an achievement made if you keep letting go. Often a time, we let go of things at a step just a stone’s throw away from the ‘Eureka moment.’ Me, today, I want to against all odds preach the never give up throgan! You can’t afford to let go of everything that seems too hard to decipher!

We have a power innate us that has a blazing furnace, whose forge is forever lit by the efforts we do everyday. Mini or mega efforts continue to ignite this furnace, the trick is consistency in these efforts in question.

May the fire at your forge dear reader continue to blaze until God says stop. NEVER GIVE UP.

The typical African parent takes ages and emotions to embrace change, you know that?!

From my observation of life and of course personal experience, it will take a lot of emotional hardups, exchange of gluesome glances, outrageous words. And of course, a final “get out of my house” statement! This is usually the pinnacle of the episode. Honestly a few people get out of their parents home in peace. Most of us get out or are set to get out in pieces!

What’s the story here? I am trying to talk about the moment in life that comes and boy, babe you have to get out, set out to have a life on your own! This is the moment I am talking about today. That moment after campus, the transition from dependency to independence. That moment…

It should be noted that a successful man/woman is the pride of their parent sure especially in our mama land Africa. But there’s a hustle fronted by these parents against their children in this transition stage reasons best known to these parents and their God. Seeing you there in their homes unemployed and counting on God’s blessings is a pain to them yet also they’ll put all conditions against an effort to set out there and find oneself. When you tell them, “Mum, dad I want to start living alone in my own house” the eye they give is enough to tell you that pressed the wrong button. Their minds go to seeing you spoilt because you’ll nolonger be in their vicinity therefore in their control. This should change surely.

When you tell them, “Mum, dad I got me a girlfriend/a boyfriend” the words they speak after that are so insane, you don’t want to hear them or read them here! There I ask myself, “How did the two of you have me formed?” These people somehow have a way they innocent themselves like the children (us) they gave birth too were not from that conjugal game! Hmmmm…

African parents please learn to embrace change. Learn to bless our hustle and learn to let us move on. It’s not a command, it’s a humble request!

Time heals, take heart Mr. Mackey

depression Life can be unfair, love especially can be the worst pain in the rare. Loving someone who doesn’t love you? Hooo, its a pain I tell. But, heeeeey I tell you what? Time heals…

Mr.Mackey is a fictitious character whom is going through the worst frustration of his. The one he loves doesn’t feel the same. He has stooped at nothing so far to tell, show, portray, proclaim, name it… All these in an effort to tell his undying love for the damsel. The damsel has given equal amount of a dead ear to these efforts! The bitter-sweet truth is that time heals.

Mr. Mackey my take on this is, take heart. Time and tide will wend by and the right one will surely find you or the reverse is true. I am done here! Dedicated to my friend in thought; Mr. Mackey.

We really like to poke our noses into other people’s business…

I don’t know if you understand when it’s said that life is short, do you? Well then, I take it you know about of what I mean. Just to spike you up, the undertext of this famous statement is that there’s never time enough to do everything you wanna do in your time of existence. This life is not ours there’s a supernatural Almighty being high above or wherever he is who decides our lifeline. So why don’t you do whatever you wanna do now not later, huh? The more you wait, the more you’re likely not to do it. You surely don’t know when HE will decide that you return to eternity of rest or doom, so why are you waiting to do it tomorrow?

That aside, because you want to wait, someone who’s pleadging to start on working on what they want to and feel indented to do, we are busy pulling their efforts down, busy trudging their efforts, busy rubbishing their endeavours, busy talking I’ll about them! Can we stop this already, can we? I mean, it doesn’t yield up! Why trush my efforts when you don’t bother to take any chances?

I start up a certain project and you’re busy telling me how it won’t work! I am a certain job, you’re busy telling me how it won’t pay me much. I am counting my blessings you’re busy counting the misfortunes the blessings will eventually bring me, hey! Honestly go to to hell already. Let me be, let us be. Work on something today and stop pulling other people’s efforts down. You can thank me later…

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