Category Archives: Heart

Emotional Rollercoaster


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)

So this is Christmas

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…



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

One day I will write about this MESS…


That overtly friendly young man probably was the longest…

The new check-in, bloodied face and tubes sticking out…

The snoring attendant, groaning patient

The occasional fart,

That dude that doesn’t seem to shut his eyes

The blood, the pain, the occasional siren…

Barbary -ever so bubbly and helpful – yes she seals the occasional glance

That exciting meal at your lowest of appetites

The nurse in uniform – oh! That long suffering nurse

Lying in wait in the adjacent room for someone to say there is something wrong

Her replacement that comes in the morn,

Barking out orders expecting you know how

I could almost swear her battery operated device refused to work

The sweet doctor, the doc you would love to date, the elderly non-plussed and that newbie that wants to be heard not seen

Day one of God knows how many

Get well son… So I can fall asleep properly again



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?

Two Thoughts on Antenatal Care


….here’s a third

Edward Echwalu - Documentary Photographer

Pregnant mothers wait for antenatal care doctor’s appointment at Kagadi Hospital in Kibaale district.Pregnant women  receiving prenatal care are the percentage of women attended at least once during pregnancy by skilled health personnel for reasons related to pregnancy.Only 47% of pregnant in Uganda attend antenatal care (at least four times) according to UNICEF 

Question is, Why the low percentages yet UGANDA is one finest countries in the world for pregnant women to nest? If they are home-grown, finding foods they crave is a breeze. For non-natives, our supermarkets are well stocked with goods from the world over. We are graced with nutritious foods – vegetables, fruits, starches, meats, fish, name it – cheap and easy to find.

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Three Kinds Of Rain IV


I staggered backwards, eyes transfixed on the spot where my night-time companion had been. Slowly I inched away, overwhelmed by emotions I barely knew. I kicked over the mug in my motion, slumping into the ever-welcoming settee. Chin in hand I sat and sat, blinking slowly as if expecting the television to reappear when I opened my eyes – like a mirage, a disappearing act, a magic trick!
My eyes held steady and then I lay back, head on armrest. I pulled the other blanket over my legs against an invisible chill and then looked towards the ceiling. In the middle of the sagging formerly-white cardboard were concentric circles of brown. So, the roof leaked1 I would have to confront the old hag about it. But how when I was a month over due in rent arrears? I lay back sighing, the sofa in engulfing me in familiar embrace. I thought about calling in sick at work. “Eff work! I don’t really care right now! In my mind, the previous night’s events replayed like a technicolour picture. I bit my lip and clenched my fist as I reopened the door and relived “hospitality 101”, cursing myself for not asking questions. My thoughts strayed to other regrettable incidences, like a movie screen behind my eyes. “Oh! What a loser I am”, I thought.
I turned over to face the back of my seat-cum-bed, the effort causing it to creak as I shifted my wait. And the tears came, large and hot on my cheeks, salty on my lips. Then the sniffles. Where was my hanky? I blew my nose into my blanket, folding the adulterated corner away. I tried not to, but sobs shook my body with every effort to stifle them, my breath in short gasps heaving my chest. And then I let loose! Like a man on a mission, silently yet all out. Spent! I cried for mother Theresa, for World Peace, for my TV and missed opportunities, rejected advances, my broken heart. For my exes, my parents, the suffering in the nation. I cried! Why did life to be so unfair? I cried with abandon, trying not to be loud. Like someone had opened up a jerrycan and turned it upside. I cried til my head pounded behind my eyes. My temple throbbing like my heart was nested therein. I cried and hoped to sleep or die. I cried. Amidst the torrent I thought I heard a knock. I ignored it. Then it came again. Three deliberate taps.
“Knock!!… Knock!!… Knock!!”
I held my breath, trying hard not to give myself way. Sniffling. I waited, hoping the knocker would leave, willing them away. They must have for it was silent again. I thought I heard the shuffling of departing feet. And I had no more strength left, no more cry, no more tears. I just lay there in my old sofa, oblivious to the dampness beneath my cheek. And then the rap of knuckles on wood, followed by silence. I held my breath.
“Knock!!… Knock!!… Knock!!”