SNAKE IN A POT

When I started this blog, I had resolved not to write about the injustice, unfairness and politics of either this country or my home country Uganda. But appropriately named “Snake in a Pot” which is from a Luganda proverb meaning being in a dilemma. I am in a dilemma and find myself going full circle to write this piece about our ever interesting and never short of surprises Uganda police. Just before I left Uganda, I was completely stunned when I heard one of the officers of the force that is supposed to serve and protect, declare that they will arrest all people who jog along roads in Kampala because they cause traffic jams. I was wondering if the officers had too much time and too little to do. However with the newest traffic crisis in Kampala, they definitely have too much to do but too little knowledge of how to go about it. In their quest to show the nation how prepared they are, the good old police men closed some roads and abruptly forced traffic in some obscures side ro...

I remember from some of my teachers (God Bless them) who took me through the early days of formal education that it was important to spell names and places of people correctly when writing. Whether it was English or Luganda (which were taught simultaneously at the time), the teachers always placed a lot of emphasis on ensuring that the spelling of what we were writing was correct. It is through these lessons that I got to learn the basic rules of spelling Luganda words. I remember that I learnt when to use a double consonant or double vowel in Luganda as early as 8years old and we always strived to write words depending on their pronunciation. That is why it was very confusing to me to read a word that sounds like ‘Entebe’ in the official name of our one and only international airport written as ‘Entebbe’. I have since learnt that this was a mistake made very early on by the colonialists in the official documents and no effort was ever made to correct it. I know that we as a cou...

After about 2 months, I can confirm that I can drive around a bit of London (about 5 miles around our home) and am very pleased with my rate of grasping things. I am deeply disturbed by the description of summer in this country, it is very different from what I expected it to be. I understand it officially begins in June and ends in September and apparently it is the only opportunity for people to have a life of barbeques and beaches (poor things!). If what we have just gone through is the best they can get, the good citizens of Kabale are having a blast. Meanwhile, the lack of human labour in this country is disturbingly irritating. It has finally brought me face to face and full speed with the flat parks from IKEA. Surely, IKEA must have been founded by a woman. IKEA is a leaf from a book written by the 21st feminist’s titled – How to decimate a man’s ego. For the past few weekends we have consistently turned up at the IKEA store in Croydon to find furniture and furnishings fo...

The big story this month was that of a scientist who has declared that black people are less intelligent than white folks. A celebrated (now infamous) scientist was ridiculed and widely condemned for comments he made about the black man’s intelligence. James Watson who is a winner of the Nobel Prize for his part in the unravelling of DNA claimed that black people were less intelligent than white people and added that the idea that "equal powers of reason" were shared across racial groups was a delusion. Although his claims were dismissed by most, this is not the first time I have heard of such claims. Some people (read white) claim that a black man would not have survived and developed the northern hemisphere with its adverse weather patterns because he does not have the brains to make the best of the situation. There are all kinds of stereotypes about black people and I wonder why this man was vilified, he is just taking the stereotyping to the next level. It is up t...

When I arrived in the UK, I had a strategy. In order to beat off the routine and boring way of life here (Home-Train-Work-Train-Home), I needed to get in touch with fell Ugandans who know that a real man from the working class, doesn’t go home straight after work but takes a beer or catches up with old schoolmates as the evening rush subsides. My strategy included visiting the Ugandan High Commission in Trafalgar Square to get information about any social groups and/or networks for Ugandans in the UK. An unbusiness looking like gentleman sitting behind the counter at Uganda House who spoke English in the famous Luganda version told me that he knew about cultural (read tribal) groups like Baganda, Acholi and Banyankore and that even those met seldom. He probably has no idea how much, he has wounded my strategy and thrown my brains into panic gear. I have to come up with new ways of finding Ugandans otherwise I will die of boredom.

I have spent much of this month trying to sort out my bearing. I never found it necessary to drive during my visits to London before. Now, that I am here and my missus works away from London (she works every where else apart from London and UK – what the hell are we doing in UK then), I need to find my way around South London especially the areas of Sutton, Croydon and Wallington behind the wheel. Apart from the 2 routes, one to Lodge School (to drop and pick Ryan) and the other to the supermarket which I have authoritatively mastered, I have wisely and secretly opted to use the Bus to all other places until I have figured out the treacherous one way system and loads of other things in the London traffic that I am not supposed to do. I love the idea of the Bus lane but I don’t know if this situational love will last once I figure out how to get around behind the wheel. I am sure I will find it harder to cope with the stress of running after buses and terminate my new found relationsh...