SNAKE IN A POT

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....