Category Archives: Desire

Emotional Rollercoaster

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Once upon a time I owned a Yahoo mail account!

Yes, n’ezikokolima gaali maji (Even those cockerels that crow were once eggs)

So out of curiousity or my involuntary insomnia I managed to recover my password, marking thousands of emails as read, the chain letters, the 419ers and things I subscribed to that had me holding my ribs in laughter induced pain.

All emails being read, I looked through the sent folder and saw the young man forwarding chain letters, applying for opportunities and writing to penpals abroad.

The sentence construction in there is exquisite and complete. These days I have to be reminded to use full sentences.

I don’t know how I ended up in the outbox folder but there were tears of nostalgia in my eyes and a little bit of rage as I skimmed through the words of anger I held back and the opportunities I might have missed because I held back. Michael Jordan was right about that.

You miss 100% of all the shots you never take! Wayne Graetzky

I came across an email to a Namukasa. The name was typed into the To: section but it wasn’t an email address just the name.

In the subject line were two words “Emotional Rollercoaster”.

This piqued my interest as I started to read smiling at my seeming poetic prowess in 2010 before I saw brackets and realised these were song lyrics and definitely not mine. My mind raced. Who is / was Namukasa and why was I sending her this song?

I searched my Facebook friends, recovered my Hi5 account but couldn’t find a Namukasa. Perhaps she spells it differently these days, same way my emails have less salutations. Nam_casa? Just know, all variations brought no results.

Tagged / hi5 was it way back then

 

Enter Google!

This was a terrible idea because there are several Namukasas and image search wasn’t helpful.

Not Namukasa, but who knows?

 

Defeated I typed “lyrics Emotional Roller Coaster” and found out about a one Vivian Green that had sang a song. The YouTube link had me mellow and feeling bashful again. I know you’ll agree with me that this song / lyrics were purposefully chosen.
So Namukasa, if you are reading this, please send me your email address so I can deliver your message.

Perhaps you will help me fill the gap and find me, because I am lost and on an emotional roller coaster and I need reminding

Emotional Rollercoaster (mp3)

#UGblogweek Day 6: The dots connect backwards

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#UGblogweek Day 6: The dots connect backwards

The late Steve Jobs, one of the great minds of our times said this.

Looking back from now it is easy to play down (downplay) or praise the not so beautiful and the pleasant memories of school life respectively. The tale of the hint will always favour the hunter, until the lion learns to speak.

Like a beautiful house, with a foundation of broken bricks and stones, the ugly matters too. These odd bits that made us stronger – the bullying, the loneliness, the failure.

And still, like that beautiful house, the tiled roof with glass panels, letting light in and visible as from afar, we can not stand sans foundation and walls.

Education (school) is that foundation.You may think agriculture taught you nothing, but the appreciation of nature and maximum use of resources was a life skill thus derived.

First forward and you design your own graphics, manage social media pages, train CEOs, invoice corporations and pitch to agencies and you believe crop rotation was a myth?

You sit in an accounting firm but have businesses on the side and you wonder how that is related to paddocking. 

Yes, Sundiata and Shaka Zulu mean nothing now, but see how much you remember. How you trained your brain and eyes to power scan – pick important information from a million tweets.

I end with a quote from the same great man. Not to settle, and when you arrive to  bless the broken roads that led you there (Rascal Flatts)

A not so Christmas story

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A not so Christmas story

Haku drew his blanket around himself, placing his sack of belongings below his head. He punched at shoved it till it felt just right.

With a sigh he drew the blanket up to his chin in the makeshift shelter he had built on the grazing land. It was temporary and so he could not take much Liberty in its finishing. Except it allowed him a good view of the cattle and the night sky.

“Kenyana is rather beautiful” he thought quietly “but her father will probably require many cows, and not from a cowherd like me.”

He yawned loudly and rubbed his empty belly. This night promised to be cold, even rainy. Already he could make out only a couple of the stars, the rest dim and only visible when he stared hard.

He saw the three bright ones he had seen while he sang to her under the Jacaranda tree by the well. Her eyes seemed bright and she did smile quite often.
“She must like me – or at least she finds me amusing!”, he thought.
Next time he would have to find some new jokes, but when would the next time be.
She was always going to festivals with her folks, rarely did she come to the well, and when she did she did she always had a couple of other girls with her.
Today was different all the luck was on his side and all he could do was sing. He felt foolish now but there wasn’t much he could do.

Kenyana was a diamond, a gem! And he fell asleep with the thought in mind, images of her giggling happily in his dreams and a smile playing at the corner of his lips.

He didn’t hear the caravan of camels walk past or the bright star gliding steadily across the night sky.

But Haku was unexplainably warm and happy and would not awaken till the crack of dawn

So this is Christmas

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So this is Christmas

I thought to write of Yuletide past – singing Noel, the plays, the Christmas Carols, Cantata, the tree, decorations, balloons, new clothes, that Christmas cassette, the lights, family photo in matching clothes – the longest church service , village visits, new clothes and that Christmas meal that almost always left me feeling ill!
Kulya Christmas – to eat Christmas! That’s what it was…

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Now two days to and I can’t seem to feel the buzz – it is a break from work, a chance to go on holiday, every family member planning their own gateway – bills, jam, worrying about January – oh! How the years go by

Somehow we forget to put the CHRIST in Christmas
– replace with X – where X stands for food, bingeing, holiday, leave from work etc

And whilst we wait for the spirit to kick in, it escapes us the real reason for this season…

I don’t know what X stands for in your case but you could say in the comments section

Merry Christmas to you all and all the best in the new year! Feliz Navidad

Musicology

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If music be the food of the soul, play on..

Lately I’ve been listenin to a lot more music… And thanks to Rick Dees I get a fine share of 40 good ones weekly! The rest are rock and other songs mainly off local radio or on whatever device is nearest me..

I love music!

..and now I notice how the song lyrics say things I want to, how the artistes seem to be singing about me

“i’m building me from the ground up”

“I wish I was strong enough to lift not one but both of us”

…but they are only words, non? Or is there a message in the wind?

…my favourite things

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..on a cold, drear Kampala day,Friday the Thirteenth, with a haze covering the city and the clouds too, a dark unmoving cold thing – i try to find my happy place, i picture a colder, cleaner greener place with rolling hills and trees and birdsong, breezes, streams, mist and fresh air.. a place to call home

..and then i don’t feel so bad..

On fatherhood -Fathers’ day 2012

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“Any man can be a father, but not every man can be a dad”

Male penguins, apart from having one life partner, sit on the egg till it hatches.
Lions laze in the sun whilst their companions go hunting. They also kill off their male offspring if they can get past the ever-watchful mothers. I guess to reduce the competition, the odds of being run out of the pride when they grow old.
Other animal species are known to mate with their sisters, aunties, nieces, mothers in a disgustingly incestuous cycle that scientists choose to call in- breeding.

And then there are HUMANS.. and infanticide, incest and monogamy come into play!

but that’s not my story!

FATHERHOOD is a full time job! Through the ante and post natals, the terrible twos and threes, till the toddler gets through school, teenage with its pre-pubescent and adolescent needs, to college and the world there after. Funny thing is he remains The Father! To the groom or to the bride, in-law until the birth of grand children.. A grandfather he becomes, thanks to his small donation in the throes of passion, hopefully… Or in sinister circumstances (i won’t even go there! ) that go beyond duty, continuation of a lineage!

The man you fondly call dad, Papa, Pa, Daddy, Taata or Baba. FATHER! Is he the man that pummels his wife on a daily, pregnant or not? The sperm-donor that flees the village for safety or fear? Is he that coward that won’t pay the cultural price nor admit that the child is his? Tis not the absentee labourer in the big city, sending peanuts home or not at all? The village drunk? Chief? Village terror? That mothers, children and neighbours alike have a wide berth in case he lost his cool? That relegated you to the other rooms by his presence in one? The “uncle” that comes at holidays like clockwork with gifts and clothes and meat? The man to whom you take your academic report so he may be obliged to “suponsa” you for another term? That silhouette in your dreams, a knightly figment of your imagination? That black and white photo you hold so dear? Or is he the very opposite? The provider, anchor, refuge… Dictionary, encyclopedia, towering figure… The one you report your mother and siblings to, the guy you boast about to your friends till you’re his height and he no longer seems indomitable!

Every one has different views of their father. Some good, some too good… Some ugly, horrible or just plain not like others… Unique!

Here’s to the men that have raised us… To whom we owe our existence; a little grooming, a contribution, food or fees… Advice or a swing of the stick.. Headmasters, teachers, strangers at the bus stop… Some not all… The adult men that treated us as equals whilst we were young, sat us on their laps and listened to us dream.. Those that didn’t take advantage of our trust, our youth, our naivety or blindness Here’s to those we owe character or physical features, that we love to hate, idolise or villify.. To they that made us who we are… Present or long gone.to those that stepped in, and loved and cared for their new families as their own. (some never).

To Fathers!

And in silence to those that didn’t see this journey through.. That got caught up to glory whilst we were saplings, green and young… Before we could ask them questions on how to stand alone, on parenting on life! We miss you! To those that had to become mothers too. [Moment of silence, pour out libations, let not their memory be in vain.]

To the fathers whose sons and daughters we admire, cherish and adore day by day.. Fine ladies, wives, children, mothers,friends, companions, husbands…even those to-be… Thank you.

But especially to you Daddy! She’s daddy’s girl, your girl and she sure turned out fine.. Would have loved to meet you, and drink from your fountain of knowledge . To sit at your feet and partake of your wisdom.. I know you probably know, that she’s taken after you.. she loves you still and misses you more. She speaks of you fondly and holds your memory well. You would be proud, I am.
Your daughter is because you are… And the world and I, are all the better because you gave!

To the fathers, uncles, grandfathers.. To men of honour in my life, whose chiding and advice guided and still guides. I hope it makes me a better man.

To you Taata, tis all love! In tears, I could say it all…for the things we can not say, we feel! .Our dealings are a story on their own, bitter-sweet but worth it. . Here the outpouring of a grateful heart, I couldn’t possibly put it in more meaningful words- from every ounce of me, from the bottom of my heart… I love you!

Sun Jun 17, 2012

coming out

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For a princess turned 18 this May Day 2012
Many are my thoughts and wishes for you.
And as you go through life it’s victories and challenges,
You’ve all the support you’ll ever need.
And when you’ve hard choices to make, God’s given you the “dopest” Ssenga.. she’s more mother than you’ll ever know, more than I could ever put in words. And I love her so so much. Without her, I’d be lost to you and to love. My life would be an empty shell

My child, I pray, not that you will be protected from Life’s trials and strife, but that you’ll triumph at every turn. That you will stand strong and tall even if you stand alone. I ask that you will not despair or give in to loneliness, that you wont know rejection or walk this world’s paths on your own,. that you’ll cling on to hope when all seems lost, that you’ll know love at it’s truest

I wish I could sit you down and brief you ,on what is yet to come, on what to expect; but life is a journey and your story is yours to write. You’re are surrounded by battle hardened warriors, but their story is not mine to tell, their wealth of experience all yours for the taking

I read Horton hatches the egg by Dr. Seuss and couldn’t blink back the warm tears of joy at the thought of the Elephant bird, a creature that only Dr Seuss could possibly imagine. At the end of the story surrounded by admiring friends… a creation of love, care and faithfulness in spite of ridicule and doubt.
It reminds me of you and these formative 18 years… if only you knew?!

I’m proud of you my daughter, we all are. Sometimes I see the cheeky little things you do, believing in your own wit. I can’t spank you; not now, and after now, not ever. But I hope you realise your folly soon, that even we went through that phase, and are neither blind nor fooled. That we let things slide for we were once like you and debate on whether to call your bluff. “There’s nothing new under the sun”, The Philosopher said in his ecclesiastical renderings, and I believe so.
I hope you discover soon enough and acknowledge that we as parents are also your friends. That you can be honest with us about prom, plunging necklines, firsts and fantasies and that we will not judge you but advise as we see fit. The mutterings, emotions and things you cant make head of

I’m now reading Mothers and Daughter’s by Dr Bassoff, and in my eyes, my colourful imagination, you…
You mean the world to me and I’m proud, immensely proud of you.

I could go on and on and on for my heart churns love by the ocean, the outpourings thereof would be infinite…but I will stop here for now, and hope that my silent prayer, our hopes and dreams for you will be fulfilled…

And that this my random discharge shall be a landmark in our lives.

I love you, sin cera… without wax…and from the depth of my heart.

Bon anniversaire