SNAKE IN A POT

It has been a tradition (sort of) for me to pen something on my birthday. As I turn 48 years old this year, I want to write about my kids.   If you have spent time with kids, you probably know that they can be an inspirational source of joy.    I have been blessed to look after a number of kids and in true African style, they are all my kids. But today I want to write about my six children, the ones that I have lived and shared the biggest part of my life with.  Like all children, Becky, Diana, Ernest, Rachel, Ryan and Renee always trigger strong emotions in me.   Most times, they make me smile, laugh and on a few occasions one or two of them have brought me close to crying, yet I love them all.  That just proves that parenting is not without its setbacks. Generally and for the majority of my kids, I have warm and loving memories. I have struggled with things as serious as deliberate disrespect and dis...

I was born to a single mother in a very poor setting.   My mother tells me that she delivered me at a Traditional Birth Attendant’s place. Reasons for this were mainly two fold.  First, my mother had gone through a bitter separation from my father and she was broke to the bone.  She couldn’t afford the hospital dues and she was so proud to beg.   Secondly and the most important reason her choosing to deliver me at a TBA’s place was because she believed or had been told that someone who didn’t wish her well had decided that she will not deliver me and if she tries, we would both die.  She believes to this day that she carried me in her womb for almost 12 months.   I am a firm believer in science, I am sure that there are so many explanations for my mothers belief, chief of which could be the fact that she miscounted the months.    On the other, I being the fourth and last child of my mother, I ...

When I was growing up, one of my army of uncles – Mr. Yusuf Nsubuga drove a trailer and mainly traversed three countries Kenya, Rwanda and Zaire.    There was really nothing fascinating from his stories about Rwanda and Zaire.   However, I always looked forward to his stories about Nairobi, Kisumu, Busia etc.    Besides, he also came with sodas in a wooden crate from that side of the border.    It therefore doesn’t strike me as odd that Rwanda or Kigali were never on my list of priority destinations even when I became an intrepid traveler in later years.     At the end of the Rwandan Civil War of 1990-94 many of my classmates at the university clamored to travel to Rwanda, while it did not cross my mind to go even as close as Katuna.    In addition, between 2005 and 2015, I traveled a number of times to Kigali on business trips usually paid for and I was always in a hurry to get out.    Not even venturing beyond the ...

Now that the dust has settled, I can write about the Kabaka’s Birthday Run sponsored by M/s Airtel Uganda.     I am an intrepid runner and avid Buganda royalist. This is therefore one event that brings two of my best favorite at one point.      Even if I were remotely interested in running, I would do turn up at the starting line because it commemorates the birth of the most important man in my life as a Muganda.     However, I am starting to entertain the idea that waking up early on a wet morning like it was this year to go and not only show my support for the Kingdom, but also keep my self healthy is not worth the likely consequences.    My Kabaka wants me to be alive.    The crowd management at this event is the worst I have ever seen at any road race and I have been to a number across the globe over the last 15 years.    I have every reason to believe that it is an accident waiting to happen and unless...

Most readers would be conversant with the saying  ‘It takes a village’ , which I have always erroneously attributed to Hillary Clinton because of her book that goes by the same title. A few years back, I learnt that the origin of this phrase is actually rooted in an Igbo and Yoruba proverb " It takes a village to raise a child".   I did not pick up the pen to write about the origins of this famous saying but rather it’s relevancy to me.  I am a typical example of a child raised by an entire village.  I don’t think I can recall all the people who contributed to my nurturing and education, even if I tried.   I am sure there are those who may have donated without my knowledge. However, there are also those I know who went beyond the obligatory simple care of a human being for another to ensure that I fed, was clothed and went to school.  I am always grateful to my two jjajas in Kiwanga, Hajat Yusuf in Kireka and m...

I first watched top-level English football league games courtesy of our good old UTV (now UBC) in the mid 1980s.   Brought to us by M/s Olympic Motor Spares, I always looked to forward to these recorded games, which most cases had been played two weeks before, with glee and excitement. This was more than three decades ago when a few of us on these dusty streets knew a thing or two about European football.  After watching my first FIFA World Cup in 1982, I had started following international football news.   Either as a result of their heroics on the pitch or simply because the news was full of Liverpool, the great club ended up closer to my heart.  I especially remember the result of the 1984 final against Roma, which Liverpool won on penalties.  The 1985 Heysel disaster meant that there were no more European games for Liverpool and I did not read a lot about my team until 1986 when I started following them again on UTV....

While reading today’s Daily Monitor, my attention was drawn to an article with the title ‘ Parents, Teachers Clash Over Difficult Homework Questions’.   I decided to read on and find out what the problem was.    A parent in Lwengo, a one Mr. Kato Lubega rightly insinuated that the teachers’ ambition is to embarrass them before their children because they (the parents) fail to help their children with these complex questions.    I have always wondered about this concept of sending kids home with work and then asking the parents to assist them to do it or even review and approve it.   What kind of twaddle is this?   Let’s be serious.   There has been some progress in formal education in Uganda but the level of illiteracy is still high.   Any teacher who sends their pupils home with work (let’s leave out the complex bit for now) and asks their parents to assist or review and approve it, is idle mind with no other objective than morti...

Tribute to Herbert Wamala (RIP) As we go through this life, we all meet loads of people. Some become our friends, some hate us while a few leave a long lasting legacy in our lives. To me, Herbert Wamala falls in the last category.  About 12 years older than me, he became a good friend of mine in the last years of his life.  I did not consider a social gathering complete without him.  They are people who we like because they inspire us and those we like because they make life so much easier to live.  Herbert was both to me!  I joined the Kampala Hash - a drinking club with a running problem- in 2009. I knew a few people in the group before I joined and inevitably I associated with the Hash team where most of the people I knew belonged. Team Kimeeza had friends and colleagues I knew from other spheres of life like Stephen Luswata, Richard Mwami, Martin Makumbi, Alice Gitta etc.  I naturally settled in and within a short time I had jelled with the entire t...

In the last 15 years, I have lived in 4 cities both in Africa and Europe.   Kampala is by far the noisiest city (both day and night).    As a Kampalan, I am accustomed to sleeping under some limited and reasonable noise.   However, since December 2017, we have heard some intolerable levels of noise around Kiwatule and this has continued to get worse over the last 3-4 weeks.   Last night in particular was so bad that I was forced to sit up at 3.30 am and find something to do.   Unfortunately, that was no solution because this noise made concentrating impossible.    We do have a what’s app group as a community but since, I didn’t hear any one complaining, I retreated to my house and thought that I was probably over reacting.   But on Saturday morning at about 9am, the first message came through, a neighbour was complaining about the intolerable levels of noise the previous night.   Phew, at least I was not alone.   As the day pro...