Was that Waragi Sanctified

In an upscale Hotel, I rushed to the loos and without stopping to read the labels entered. As I wielded my energy to open the fly, behold a lady came out of one of the toilets.

Mumbling apologies, I dashed out and pushed open the next door, only to be met with sharp eyes of ladies who were carelessly minding their very important business, probably not expecting intrusion, especially from the opposite sex.

"This hotel's washrooms are all meant Ladies?" I wondered within me

Kumbe the first Lady had used the Gents

Always read the labels!

In my village of Musese, even when I was of tender age still vividly remember us having a beloved priest called Coning.

You know this, our Catholic Church has been so tolerant that it would entertain all people; including drunkards before they could rescind into their lucidity interval. Who are we to judge? It was not strange that a man or two would come to church and if Mass delayed he passed by Nabalayo's mini brewery or Wakoko's joint in Shisatsa then join Mass later.

On this particular Christmas, Coning had preached, prayed and then,

"By this Holy water and by your Precious Blood, wash away all my sins O Lord".

The good reverend Father started sprinkling us with the "Holy Water".

When the sanctification began, there was a stir in the congregation caused by mumblings and a sharp smell of crude waragi.

The Catechist requested the person who has been drinking to move out and 7 of them left the congregation.

Father Coning also reacting, put the bottle of the "Holy Water" to his nose, quietly replaced the lid, went back to the altar, picked another bottle and restarted the sanctification.

Todate, even in death, Rev Father Coning of the Tororo Archdiocese, Nyondo Parish remains our most favorite Parent in Christ.

"By this Holy water and by your Precious Blood, wash away all my sins O Lord".

Was that Waragi sanctified?

3 Beds, One Night!

An aerial view captured from the balcony of my residence at Luweero Diocese

Whenever I travel up country for work, I always face a difficulty finding affordable but hygienic and 'decent' accommodation facilities. It always seems like those two cannot relate, they repulse each other.

Most affordable Guest Houses/Hotels turn out to be "brothels" and this normally elicits fears of contracting disease or the discomfort of the sounds of night pleasures from other guests.

This was so until I realised that some upcountry towns have Guest Houses owned and run by religious institutions. The Church of Uganda runs some of the most affordable and decent facilities. The Catholic Church also has them but theirs are a little bit pricey and in most cases out of reach. I remember going to Kyangwali in Kikube District and they told me that the cheapest I would get at the Catholic run hotel was at Ugx 120,000/-.

But most guest houses run by Church of Uganda are affordable; especially in Luweero and Mbarara.

However, one distinctive feature I find is that most of their rooms have 2 beds. 

In Mbarara, I booked the room and the lady who checked me particularly asked me to use only one bed for the night. Did this lady think that I would sleep in two beds in one night?

It was interesting and I assured her that I have no such plans as sleeping in two beds in one night. But as I pondered over her ludicrous request, I remembered that I have ever slept in three beds in one night but this happened in my own house, my first week in that house.

I was alone in a fully furnished 3 bedroom house and had automatically chosen to sleep in the Master bedroom until I realised that being direct to the evening sunlight (the trees had not grown to give the house sufficient shade), the wall had absorbed much heat and it was quite uncomfortable. I shifted to the adjacent bedroom; but this particular one had a very light window curtain and the security light was lighting directly into the room.

After one hour of trying to catch sleep in vain, I shifted to the other bedroom  and it is where I found comfort. One night, three beds but I will not do that in a Guest House!

Lastly, I urge all of us to plant trees around our houses. It does not only preserve the environment but breathe good air when back home!

In Defence of Ssegirinya

This is how it started: In 2016, your MP bought an ambulance for his constituency; why didn't he legislate so that government provides ambulances to all Ugandans, does the senior MP know his role or he is like Ssegirinya?

In Petals of Blood, one of the best novels written by Ngugi Wa Thiong'o, young Joseph was badly sick, hungry and in dire need of medication or at least, food. When the caretakers went to Reverend Jeremy Brown’s house for help; the man of God offered prayers and without giving the sick child food, reminded the entourage that man does not live by bread alone; but every word which comes from the Lord. I quote, “the Revered holy bastard could only offer us the food of spirit”.

A nurse stands besides Ssegirinya's ambulance.

When I see an online campaign from selfish people criticizing Hon Muhammad Ssegirinya for lending a hand to his people; setting up a health centre, distributing food to those in lockdown, purchasing ambulances and mobilising them through small scale business ventures, I marvel at the sort of resemblance with the above scenario.

In a lockdown, many people, especially in the city are desperate; they are hungry, they need food now, now and Ssegirinya is trying to help out. Our hospitals lack basic equipment and people are dying when they would not have died. Then you find an idle mind thinking that Ssegirinya is doing wrong?

The thinking by elites that legislation will be the solution to help a person who is hungry because their businesses are locked down in effort to curb the spread of Corona should try to evaporate by putting in context that even if we put to use our entire budget, it would still need donations to save the situation. Let us be real; we should not cloud our brains with fear and hate but rather hope and goodwill.

If Ssegirinya is doing a lot that your MP has not done, move to Kawempe North or else, shut up!

A Rallying Call to Patriotism

There is this good feeling you get after doing something so great for your nation.

Author's workstation

I am not talking about sports or those other prized arts; I don't mean launching a war that kills hundreds of thousands before liberation is attained or the pride of raising our flag on foreign soil.

I mean something as simple as putting up a small restaurant and you employ 5 people or a Carpentry shop or any cottage entity that adds a drop of rain in the big desert of unemployment and thus, you contribute taxes for national development.

It is that feeling that we should inculcate in our generation, a call to a patriot, an inward urge to act, knowing that one apiece is what will make our nation a great state; one that we shall be proud to hand over to the next generation.

Talking of handover in regard to work and service; when you see an elderly man hold on to the mantle and say he feels he can serve some more years, then it is either because she/he has failed to deliver during his tenure and thinks that he can make it up or he has done things so bad that he wants to cover up and jeopardise the transition from handover to takeover.

In that case, he will have someone else to bl
ame!

God bless Uganda.

When Uganda attains First World Status

I wrote this post on July 23, 2015 and shared it on my Facebook page; it was triggered by the news that Mubarak had died from Sudan. A da later, we learnt that Mubarak was actually alive and he, himself had made that stunt so as to extract money from his relatives in form of condolence and funeral arrangements.

When Uganda finally attains first world status, I would like to be there but not alone.

Author with colleagues at a pool table

It came as a shock when they told me that Mubarak has died, an
agemate with whom we grew, fought, shared, cared and schooled.

As we grew, academics started sorting out the weak and for Mubarak, I left him classes back. However he completed school before me not with a bachelors but a P.5 report card.

He would soon make a name beyond our small village as a petty thief that grew up to become a master of cons. But Mubarak should not have died because we laughed and cried together; we had big dreams and plans for the future but he stifled his by dedicating all his time to seeking for money at all costs.

Then Sudan came calling and off he went. The war that broke out in 2013 scared many back but Mubarak stayed and he became part of it.

In February 2016, Mubarak nearly landed me in trouble but thankfully my financial background and education in money laundering came to my rescue. Someone else fall into the trap and Mubarak survived as the hero of the story.

As we awaited when he would return to answer for that heinous crime. Duh, the news came that Mubarak has died. Why, when where I don't know but I have a feeling he should not have died before explaining why he always landed other people in trouble, why his parents had to sell off land to save him from prison in Sudan, why he set a trap and landed Barbra in a trap of 2.5 million but most of all why Mubarak stole the only chicken that I received as a gift after circumcision.

You may not rest in peace Mubarak!

Once upon a time in July

I wanted to publish this article yesterday but I could not confirm that we are in July, I had to give it another day. We are living in unprecedented times. You may have walked 5 days of the month and then suddenly something happens and the month is reversed.

But I can now confirm that we are in July, the first month in the second half of another wasted year of 2021. July is the longest month of the year, literally it feels like July has around 40 days, 8 weeks and very many hours.

The month of July in Bugisu used to be the month of harvesting, likyesa. It is a month when persons like Nekesa and Wekesa were born. But not anymore, I think. Some people now take on their parents' names and thus you will find a Wekesa born in January and a Nakhumitsa born in December.

Anyway, even the word itself has evolved. Khukyesa is now only used in relation to the millet, which millet growing is also waning. The language in general is evolving and we have adapted the Luganda word of Okukungula. In place of Khukyesa, we are now putting khukhungula.

50 years from now, you will need to explain the meaning of your names to your children, but shall we be knowing them. If it was not for my namesake Mr Wabuyi William, I would be walking this world not knowing the meaning of my name, Wabuyi but now I know. Only that I was born in the "wrong" month.

As we sail through July, the month of harvest, the longest month of the year, may blessings envelope your life. May you harvest wherever you have sown good seed.

And also, take care!

Uganda is ours, you can't take that away.

As we embark on the journey, to a new financial year, as a country, I imagine how it has been a painful thing being in Uganda for the last 30 years and especially for adults; with heavy burdens imposed on you everyday that passes by. Most of this pain is not even caused by the heavy taxes but by how our taxes are misappropriated and skewed to uplifting some regions while others are left to crumble. 

In many cases you're tempted to think that there is a mission by our rulers which is meant to make us hate our country. But us, Ugandans love this country tremendously. Even when the burdens weigh heavily on our lives and in our hearts, we still remember that we were not only born in Uganda but Uganda lives in us!

I love Uganda, my motherland!

The Uganda flag

The unfairness doesn't take away our cheerful nature. We welcome foreigners with open hands and in our hearts, even in lack we share the little we have.

Our nature is unique. Ugandans go to Sudan, Middle East and are mistreated but we are happy to host millions of Sudanese refugees. We even let foreigners come here and fight over our land. That is generosity not to be found in many countries.

Even in the deepest of pain and you greet a Ugandan, "how are you?", he/she will always respond with a smile "I am fine" because we are Ugandans!

Goodbye OTT, Let Us Welcome Exploitation

While growing up, we used to taunt our playmates in the village. Whenever they would find you eating and ask us to share, we would ask them to hold on until we have filled up our stomach to the extent of overflowing. In English, it does not come out well but literally, we would be telling you that we shall give after we are full to the brim.

It also reminds me of the bullies in high school. On one occasion I witnessed a very piteous scenario. A senior three lad found a Senior one student (Nyongo) opening up his bag of ground nuts. The bully commanded the nyongo to, "fill this bowl of mine with those ground nuts till I smile" The Nyongo started filling the bowl, with a keen eye on the bully to see a smile on the bully's face. This he did until he had emptied his entire bag of ground nuts without soliciting a smile from the bully turned thief. After making sure that the Nyongo had no more seeds as we usually called them, the bully just walked away, he didn't smile.

From the above experiences, you realise how hard it is to please a bully, you understand that it is not a good idea to keep turning the other cheek for one whose aim is to smother you.

In 2018, NRM government introduced a bizarre tax on social media called OTT. This action raised the ire of especially the young educated people but our career politicians were not much concerned. Indeed, Bobi Wine rallied his friends in the music industry, arts and the media but political establishments did not give it much attention. 

In the end, the NRM won, the tax was imposed, businesses crumbled and Ugandans moved on. One would think that this would be the last time government would attempt to ridiculously promote innovation while blocking avenues of Ugandans' interaction with the world but this government never gives a damn.

Bobi Wine has solely opposed OTT as a politician

Today marks the end of OTT charge which was introduced in 2018 and one would celebrate but in place of OTT which affected only social media, we now have a 12% tax imposed on the entire internet. Therefore, if you're this NRM old lad who thought that they were only going against social media and therefore you can use email, they have come for you too.

Silence to the actions of dictators only embolden them to venture into more terror. Never shut eyes to the oppression of the neighbor and never feed a monster on assumption that it will get satisfied and leave you. 

To those who think that Napoleon is always right, together we shall walk to the gates of hell.

To all people who stayed faithful to the cause and refused to pay OTT whenever they could, you're the betrayed comrades in this fight!

I, My Photo and The Mask

Yesterday, I walked into a photo studio at 13:55 to perform a duty of great national importance: to take a  photo, in fact a passport photo. 

After Younger had taken my pitcha, I walked out to enjoy the empty, clean streets since I was told that it will take 20 minutes until the photo is ready.

At 14:20 I walked back into the studio and to my surprise, they had already printed the passport photos. I immediately suspected that something must be wrong since people are not known to keep time on this end of the town.

As I paid, and waiting for my change, I naturally pulled out the photos to have a look. I was surprised beyond imagination.

"Younger, are you okay in the head?", I asked 

"Why?"

"How can you print passport photos when I am in a mask?"

"You did not remove the mask, it is not my fault."

It did not end just like that but after wading through the circus, I afforded a laugh; at myself and Younger.

Bride Price Derails Gender Equality

Have you ever imagined appreciating someone, then that person calls you to his home, informs you about the nature of gift he wants, the quantity and the time when he needs it; in the process, you hire mercenaries to head your team of negotiators so that your intended gifting does not have to be too costly; indeed because you cannot agree, sometimes the negotiations spill over to the next day until you strike a compromise; all in the name of your wish to gift someone?

It is a long sentence but that is how dowry/bride price sounds to me.

Internet Photo (May be subject to copyright)

Pope Francis is one of my great inspirations; not only as a spiritual father but a wholesome human being with a heart of mercy, kindness and humanity. At the infancy of his papacy, he made a great statement when he said, "Things have a price and can be for sale, but people have a dignity that is priceless and worth far more than things"

This quote strikes me every time I think about the issue of gender disparity in Uganda which is glorified in action but despised in word, mostly in regard to bride price. The question is, why should we pay bride price?

Going by its name, I think bride price is the price tagged against the female when they are being united with a man to form a marriage; either religiously, or traditionally. 

Ugandans most especially women may deny the fact but some parents out there are looking out to their daughters as a source of income in form of bride price. Indeed, some parents have gone an extra of hiring mercenaries/professional salesmen to haggle/bargain the amount to be paid for bride price.

I find it funny that female activists who passionately preach equality still think that it is incumbent upon the man to pay money in order to earn himself a wife and still treat her as an equal in that marriage; it is ironic.

It is high time we manned up and accepted to have the cake or to eat it; we cannot attain equality if one gender is for sale while the other pays. Okay, some people say it is appreciation, but when is the appreciation coming to the man's side?

We have studied with Nabweteme from P.1 to University, we finish school and walk the same streets looking for jobs, the investment from the parents has been the same, why charge me when I choose to marry Nabweteme? Why appreciate her parents and not mine?

Of course, going forward, this is a post I have to hide from my prospective parents-in-law, lest I derail all chances of ever marrying any one's girl from Uganda. But if anyone ever asks why I wrote, I will say that I meant it!

Behind Every Stupid Plan, Judge Not!

We need to organize a school debate with a motion , "village life is better than town life". I will be the proposer and town people like Emma Bwayo will be the opposer while Ezzy Brian shall be time keeper.

Village life is better because it is real life; town life is fiction. At around that time when the Bodaboda riders in Kampala and other towns were discussing the warship "emeeri", my village buddy was discussing real stuff with me.

He parked his motorcycle for 7 days and went to Kyabazzala in Kayunga to visit his sister with the hope that his sister's husband (his brother in law) will give him some money to clear his daughter's school fees. He spent a week in Kyabazzala and true to his expectations, he was given 100,000. Upon returning, he cleared the 70,000 fees balance. He thanked his muko and he thinks that he should be doing this every term.

The only thing I forgot to tell you is that he spent 60,000 traveling to Kayunga and back. The damn comfort felt after robbing even if the cost of robbing was higher than the loot. 

"How much do you make riding your motorcycle everyday", I asked him to which he said 20,000 or more.

I went on with a barrage of friendly insults, lecturing him about the basics of life and how he should have known that 7 days on his motorcycle would have earned him more than what he actually got from his brother in law.

Educated people move around with a lot of lugezigezi and think that they can lecture everyone about life. So, this guy asked me whether I have ever gone for holiday and returned with a pay check.

"I went off duty for 7 days and returned with enough fees for my daughter. Can any bodaboda rider go for a holiday return with pay?"

That is why town life is better than village life!

Before You Can Fight

Since I got my first beard, I stopped fighting useless battles; those battles which you fight, win but they do not add value to you. I learned it the hard way. That will be a story for another day, let me tell you this one.

One time I received a call from some guy, an acquaintance. It was too noisy in the background and could not hear what he was saying. Therefore, I decided to hang up but he immediately called back and I had no choice but endure the noise to pick out what he was saying;

"Are you near Busiu Police Station?", he asked.

I was working from nearby and I replied in the affirmative.

Then came this guy's request.

"Please help us and ask Police guys to come over and help out. We are here fighting and it is a serious one"

I calmly answered him,

"I see very many people at the Police Station and all the police officers seem to be busy; please stop fighting and ask your colleagues to resume the fight later when the police guys are not very busy."

But before I could hang up, I heard him say something like, "okay, let us just come to the police station"

True to his word, in less than 10 minutes I saw two motorcycles arrive at the police station carrying persons, some of who were bleeding. It must have been a bloody fight!

The lesson I picked is that before you start a fight, make sure that you have someone who will readily come in to separate you; or else, you will kill yourselves.

Before sending the rockets, Palestine knew that gracious people will stand up in solidarity and Israel knew that America was on their side. Israel also had iron domes, they did not spend a night in the stadium praying for a miracle.

Have a nice weekend!

Fixing our Nation as A Collective Responsibility

Just as day follows night, one day we shall wake up when Museveni is not president of Uganda anymore. He will be featuring prominently in the books and news as the former president of Uganda. One whose reign was characterised by corruption, human rights abuse, high levels of poverty, unfulfilled promises, blatant
abuse of the constitution and mass financial mismanagement. Then those who served him as if they were serving an eternity shall be tasked by their grandchildren as why they chose wrong over right. You won't deny it since all your acts of today shall have been captured on internet.

About his going, we are sure that he will and we shall remain with this beautiful country, Uganda. The bad news is that we are also likely to remain with our poverty, corruption and most of the present wrongs. These evils we so much becry will probably continue. It is not because we do not have faith in the upcoming leaders but because, he will not be replaced with angels. 

President Museveni will be replaced with the current politicians; either those in opposition or the ones in the current government. Those in government will uphold his policies while those in opposition will try to forge a different way forward under the same deficiencies. By the general look of things, the issues we have with Museveni's government are the same practices in the opposition parties. I shall not talk about the intolerance, and politics of patronage but the content that the parties are parading, the populism with no concrete evidence of the same being applied in their own institutions. 

Photo of President Museveni (Photo may be subject to copyright)

If they were serious about changing this country, now would be the time when the opposition political parties would illustrate to us by doing what the government has failed to do; create jobs, eliminate corruption and mismanagement within their own parties, but this is not the case.

Very many political parties are sitting on a abyss of corruption and mismanagement.

If they are truly committed to changing the lives of Ugandans, then this would be the time: so that we can see that if government is mismanaging Emyooga, then NUP comes up with its own and shows us what should be done, we need to see FDC come up with a better model of Operation Wealth Creation, and DP show us how Bonabagagale should have been done by practically implementing what they are critical of.

Don't talk about resources; political parties must have the resources to improve their members' livelihoods. If a presidential candidate received billions for campaigns and yet says he cannot raise the same amount in the next 5 years to elevate their members, then know that their promises were hot air, a fallacy or a fantasy.

Am I talking or I am communicating?

Uganda, Why the Rush?

There is a common saying among the young people of Buganda; "Topapa, ojakutomera" meaning "don't rush, you may crash". It seems like this saying needs to be told with illustrious examples so that it can sink into the brains of all Ugandans.

This is my brother Collin Mukhatere

When you find us on the road, we are always in a rush: the push and shove on the streets of Kampala, the overtaking on the roads all over the country, it is always rush hour, laced with a lot of impatience.

When you ask where we are rushing, I cannot exactly tell because same Ugandans are not good with time management. Then why the rush?

When we drive at 100/hr, you may think we are trying to make it earlier than scheduled, for an appointment, but no: most Ugandans never keep time.

Four years ago we invited this "big man" to an event which was slated to start at 3pm.

He confirmed attendance a day before and indeed dispelled our fears of him being late for the occasion.

On d-day, we were all conscious of the need to keep time and indeed we invited the other guests an hour earlier so that by 3pm, all was set. "Big man" was no where, 30 minutes down.

I decided to make this humble call and indeed he picked.

"Hello young man, mpozi your event is today?" he asked

"What is the time right now?" he probed

This is annoying; that someone scheduled for an event is not even keeping track of time of the day and you expect him to remember the time scheduled for your function? Go to hell.

But the end result of our poor management is the rush and push; the reaction without thinking which leads to disasters. Majority Ugandans are in a rush because they are late for an appointment, school or office. This creates a rare of urgency which develops into impatience and the end result is the rampant accidents we have on the roads, traffic jam caused by wrong driving and all evils associated with reactionary behaviour.

Back to our "big man" in the story above; as he rushed to our event, he knocked a bodaboda motorcylist and only his name saved him from spending the weekend in a police cell.

Therefore, Ugandans, we do not need to rush, we just need to manage our time; for all the rushing we have been into, our economy seems not to much our pace because; we rush because we are late.

Your Education Must Redeem You II

These ears, they like gossip so much that however much you try to avoid it, some words find themselves into you. 

Last year, I was somewhere minding my business when a highly diplomatic argument broke out between a mother and her daughter.

Ears on the ground. This is what happened.

At first, the quarrel was the usual noise made when two axes are put in the same basket; as said by Ngugi Wa Miri in their book ''I Will Marry When I Want".

What startled me to start questioning my ears' credibility was when the daughter asked her mother what she is doing in her marital home and yet her husband (daughter's father) had departed the world.

Precisely, she said, "Why don't you go back to your father's home? This is my father's house and you who has only one daughter have no claim to it. This house belongs to I and my step brothers" 

A child is chasing her biological mother from her house.

This is it:

The daughter is the only child of her mother. Her father who was also the husband to her mother and another woman died a few years ago. 

A structure atop Wanale Hill in Mbale. Photo taken in 2018

This daughter has tried a hand at marriage but she has not yet stabilised (as we all understand "marriage-things" nowadays). Therefore, many times (not once) in a while when she goes out there and things do not work out, she returns with a child and stays until another marriage calls. But this time round, the lockdown complicated things and delayed her next marriage.

The axes when kept in the same basket they must necessarily knock against each other. On her next marriage trip, she went and left all her children to the same mother she was trying to chase from her own home.

That is how complicated things can be.

If you're planning to become LC 1, those are the cases you have to handle. One day I shall tell you about a mistress who sued someone's husband for infecting her with a disease that she could not disclose. But because it may involve a lot of reference to private parts, I need to write it when I am drunk. Who is buying the drink?

Love Through the Eyes of A Mother

Upon realising that his girlfriend was staring at him, he stared back at her; she then asked, "do you like the food?"

He did not respond but just stared back at her with a smile. She very much reminded him of his elderly mother and he did not hesitate to tell her, how he was fond of his mother before work and adult life separated them.

"You have asked me the same question 3 times."

Internet photo (May be subject to copyright)

"And you have not replied", she replied with a beaming smile covering her face. He lovingly looked back at her and put the folk down then reached for her hand and gripped it then closed his eyes; "I feel so lucky to have you". The grip was so firm; it felt like letting go, he would lose her.

"You very much remind me of my mother; right now she must be lying in bed or kneeling at the bed side, saying a prayer and interceding to God on my behalf. she is an amazing woman. When I had just completed college and secured my first job with the insurance company, my mother meant a lot to me; she was my courage, she was my morale; I could intimate to her all my thoughts, all my plans and ambitions."

"Mother always waited for me to return; and I normally returned home at 8pm to find when she has already prepared our dinner. I remember the small bucket in which she would place my food to keep it warm; I wonder whether it is still there. I would sit on the wooden chair called mussesa, my mother would sit on her mat in the corner and stare at me as I ate away. She always knew when I was enjoying or not: she could always know when my day was good or the day was bad; that woman had a way of reading my mind."

"Whenever I was about to empty my plate, she could reach for the pot, scoop drinking water and pass it to me. I could argue with mother as to why she has to pass me the water all the time but it was now routine because that argument would then lead us to our conversation. She would then ask many questions some of which I answered while others I could say were beyond her age to understand."

"".......... you're working with people who when my house burns they can build for me a new house, when someone steals my land they can give me another piece of land. Are they not the same people who burn people's houses and steal people's land so that they can replace and stay in business?" my mother asked one night."

“No mother. Insurance companies aver the perils which will require indemnity; when you insure your house and it burns down, it is an expense replacing it and another thing, our company cannot insure land against theft.”

“"Then what can poor me also protect from loss", she asked while stretching to hit a cockroach that was roaming around the room."

"Mother you can insure your life"

""Wait, you mean I can insure my life so that when I die......................""

To be continued

Your Education Must Redeem You!

When villagers reach Kampala, they are always surprised by our high levels of "ignorance", born out of education and disconnect from reality.

Do you know what it feels like to sit in a meeting meant to discuss the issues of delayed rain for the season. In the meeting, people exchange ideas and normally come up with practical solutions which they execute without any ounce of procrastination.

Last month, there is a teacher who was summoned to a village meeting somewhere here in Bugisu; it was supposed to discuss the sudden deaths whose cause was pointing in the direction of witchcraft. Apparently, the teacher has gone "under water" and returned with voodoo (mayembe) which is picking the villagers one by one. 

(Author at Nyero Rocks in Kumi District)

Poor man had attended the meeting to defend himself against all allegations. He had succeeded in clearing his name until one of the dead guys came out and affirmed the accusations against the teacher. No, the dead guy did not rise, he spoke through one of his emissaries. 

The emissary started with hallucinations which attracted other members of the gathering. He then went on to mention the list of the people who are lined up for the grave, some of whom were in the meeting. He then dropped the bomb shell of the cause of their death.

The meeting did not end well, it was not as well organised as the one which was discussing the delayed rains. This particular one amicably adjourned when they had resolved to go and beat up the one who was "tying the rain". On their way to the suspected umukyimba (title given to people who stop rains), they met a government official who explained the consequences of their action. But what do these kids know. 

The entourage matched on to their destination. When they did not find their pick for the beating, the anger was channeled to his goats. Later in the evening, it rained heavily and destroyed a number of houses.

These things came to mind when I was being told about a woman in Busoba Sub County of Mbale District who was hacked to death a few days ago. Her crime; she is a witch. Don't you think that we have a long way to go?

When you find us thinking hard, just know what is on our mind: How shall we treat witchcraft in in the middle income economy? If one can bewitch the other, why do we bother with going into an election when we can line the witches and do away with our tormentors? 

On a serious note, let us who have been to school help to enlighten our people; these brutal, rudimentary behaviours need to end as soon as yesterday; we can predict rain, we have very many cancers which cannot be detected in village clinics, stop this village talk of; "they have checked and not seen any disease"

There is a pertinent reason as to why we spend some few years in school!

Dreams Which Haunt Me

In the infancy of my Christian faith, I used to interpret and lose sleep over dreams. It was not until recently that I convinced my mind that these dreams are actually a continuation of a movie that played out physically or in my mind during the day. Some dreams are as a result of the mounds of kalo or heaps of potatoes that we, villagers crash just a few minutes to bed time.

Uganda Military Police flogging Journalists
(Photo maybe subject to Copyright)

I no-longer scratch my head to understand why in my dream, I was closely following Dr Col Besigye as he commanded us to look out for South Sudanese who killed 9 Ugandans.

I just know that it is a big zest, an animating spirit, a desire for leadership which cares about Ugandans in Uganda and Ugandans outside Uganda. The unanswered question of why Ugandans die like paupers in foreign countries and our rulers are not moved an inch.

I know that it is a result of a fantasy about a  leadership which doesn't look forward to military expeditions to collect money from Americans but a chance to export peace and apathy won by gracious Ugandans to other nations: a leadership that does not glory in keeping its soldiers in another country for 13 years but kind enough to execute a mission successfully and return in one piece. A leadership which does not see a stable East Africa as a threat to its own autocracy but a relief from perpetual violence that have dogged our region for centuries.

Back to my dream:

We were squarely defeated by South Sudanese who were led by Gen Tibs Kaguta. All along, we thought that he was fighting with us.

Finally, I bought omulondo (Mondia whytei)

When you find us chewing on those roots called mulondo, don't think that they are easy to come by. 

The boy child has suffered.

On this particular day, the city is not much crowded, as Sundays always turn out to be. I bumped into the young man selling emilondo, it is my

chance to strike.

I quickly inquire about the prices. But before we can complete the transaction, a damsel turned into our direction. I snatched the root from the guy, hurled a coin to the young man and dashed off off into a waiting matatu, just around the corner.

However, before I could settle in the back seat of the matatu, the young man was right there too. It seems he was following after me. 

He banged on the window demanding for his money with basic insults being directed toward me. Well, I didn't know that it was a 5 franc Swiss coin that I cast to him in haste.

All passengers turned to look at me with judgement written over their faces.

"You pay for the man's mulondo; how can you rob him of a mere 500 shillings?

Kale me, who had secretly wanted to acquire this magic tuber, my transaction suddenly turned into a matter of public scrutiny. Then a guy who looked to be in his early 30s poked in, "oba whose daughter is going to suffer this today?" which sent other passengers into a frenzy of laughter. 

Within me, I garnered all the confidence to explain myself, justify my purchase and win respect of the people who I thought were judging me harshly. I did that for the rest of the short trip.

As we approached Nsooba stage, my destination, the conductor casually referred to as, "musajja w'omulondo, kwata balance wo."

Jumping out of the matatu, I could feel relief of the humiliation; it was only then that I remembered that I had forgotten my kaveera in the taxi; in the kaveera was my new pair socks, popcorn and my mulondo. The car had drove off.

Since then, I gave up on buying mulondo!

Below is a post from Daily Monitor about the Mulondo, also known as mondia whytei.

https://www.monitor.co.ug/uganda/magazines/life/ugandans-search-for-prowess-and-virility-1528362

the myth that Mulondo roots improve sex performances are based on the tuber’s shape. “The Mulondo are long and erect,” he says. “That shape made people start thinking that it can make men stronger. In fact, when most men are buying the roots, they choose those roots, which are long and straight. But truth be told, these roots don’t have any (virile) effect ,” he added.

Instead, the roots have a set of unrelated health benefits, which still make them attractive. “Eating this root will for instance help you have better breath, say in case you did not brush your teeth. Most people who eat them however, do it because they (roots) can improve your appetite (for food). They have a way of making you feel hungry very fast, so for people who are sickly and do not want to eat, the mulondo can help.” The roasted coffee seeds do not have any virile effect either but instead help restore appetite levels.

This tweet by Dr Kasenene may help give insight into the herb: https://twitter.com/drpaulkasenene/status/1285099641097379842

The Real Village Ninja of Uganda

 

There is a troublesome boy in this village who doesn't do much at their home. He wakes, eats and goes into the neighborhood. When in the neighborhood, he does all the chores that any parent would expect of a child.

Therefore neighbors love him and know him to be hardworking boy when at home, he is totally the opposite.

Some people tell us that he is like his late father. That man (his father) was killed at his second wife's home. He abandoned his young family and got married to a mother of 4 children, which children he partly took good care of, as his blood  children and their mother struggled to make ends meet. One morning, "he woke up when he had died in sleep"according to the police report.

It is one of those few times I get to think that maybe witchcraft is real. Otherwise, why would you abandon your family and take on some other family unless under the influence of some supernatural forces.

Mpozi another time I have got to believe that witchcraft works is when a Member of Parliament from Butalejja or Bududa approves a budget to construct roads in Congo, apparently to foster development when those districts do not have any tarmac road. 

 Can't you see that your leaders and maybe yourself need to be prayed for?