Princess called to my attention the fact that the blogloren was in uproar.
The issue, an article in the Monitor newspaper, which was disrespectful of the blogloren. It had put them under the microscope. Found them, er, us, collectively wanting.
I was amused.
Lifted the article, put it here, with a few choice comments from yours truly. And thus invited some feedback. Very interesting feedback, and some enlightening insight.
I ‘hear’ that most Ugandan bloggers were not happy with the lack of respect. They felt short charged, un-understood. The flippancy of the article, the general tone of disappointment, the call to pull up their socks, collectively, one and all. A call to action, which was quite resented.
Amusement at every pore.
Eh, I am a Ugandan blogger. True. One of the fringe, radical elements of the Ugandan right or left? I am usually ignored by Ugandan bloggers. So, I ignore them back, in suitable, Ugandan like pique. After all I am Ugandan.
Is all the perceived anger because the writer of the article was actually spot on?
I do not read Ugandan bloggers, with the exception of a few. A very few.
When I first hit cyber, I was hot, and young. And livid with my anger at the whole world. They reacted like I had dropped some pupu in their midst. Sorry to intimate.
I realized that they had established a procedure.
One would write a post. And then the others would troop over, and aaaahhhhh, and eeeeehhhh, without exception. Dutifully, I also did the same. And then realized that I was not really welcome. They would not reciprocate.
In my pride I drew back.
Well, I am gay, and Ugandan. And the fact that they would barely notice my posts was at first galling. I needed some acceptance.
Few did. And I reciprocated.
Comrade 27th. Actually he tiptoed in. Curious, anxious. But he was brave enough to comment on my blog. Eh, the in-your-face homosexual blog that claimed Ugandan cyber ground. We did have some fun time. He allows he is not really gay friendly. I do allow that he is at least honest in his curiosity about me. And well, he was a reluctant admirer, though I never really understood what he admired. Apart from telling me that the girls admired my attempts at poetry.
Princess. Girl, I admire your spunk. You hit the blogosphere determined to learn, and your curiosity brought you to me. You questioned. I answered, or refused to answer, as the whim took me.
I do not read blogs, as I have said before. I just felt I had to read Princess, and 27th. I am no judge. But I think Princess can write. Though she is better in the dialogue with others, role playing. I think 27th can too. But he puts me to sleep with the soporific length of his posts. Iwaya? He used to be a favourite. Till I had to admit he was too cryptic for my poor head.
I know they read GayUganda. But they just do not comment. Ha ha ha! Cowards.
So, if I call you cowards, and it is true, is it wrong?
See, my long time in the wilderness has thickened my skin. Rhino hide at the moment.
Carlos, [pardon mum, are you the one of the famed boobs on the blog post?], she lashed out at my post here. Why all the gayness? Was her demand. Am I empty of anything else?
I laughed out loud.
Why deny it? I am the in your face gay
See, my time in the wilderness has been of great use.
Dennis Mutanda. Oh, I remember the initial contacts. ‘bout a year ago, wasn’t it?
So, your praise and flattery, mixed with the spice of comment.
Sorry Dennis, but you remind me of someone.
I think he stumbled across my blog. For some reason he liked the poetry. And he decided that I was new at poetry, and needed a teacher. So, he elected himself. I declined. He tried flattery. He tried cajolery. He lost his temper, started bullying. I lost my temper too.
If my poetry is good, so what? If I want to develop it, well and good. If I don’t, so what? It is mine. It is my poetry, it is my story.
Sorry Dennis. Your praise on the ‘brilliant’ post, mixed with the carrot, ‘many things missing’ detract from something, something which you do have in common with Carlos. She wants me to drop my gayness. You want to give me a hand up, however obliquely, to make the brilliant posts better. At a cost of course. They will no longer be me.
So, lesson, to my dear Ugandan bloggers.
You were all so miffed and angry at the article in the Monitor because it happened to be spot on. You have forgotten the incredible freedom of cyber, and instead shackled yourselves with the need to impress. With your English. With your grasp of what you write. With how shocking you are. You forget that, as you master these things, you lose the essence of something more precious. The freedom of independence.
You mind the article because it was spot on. You are acting like a lot of hot air.
So, if I am wrong, sue me! I don’t mind being wrong! Sure, why should I mind? Time out and you have the chance to see how great the promise of cyber is. Freedom. With not a Ssempa to look over your shoulder and show you how to think. If a gay Ugandan is there, why fear him, or her? Engage them, and show them the wrongness of their ways. Instead of trying to recreate the narrowness of your thinking in Ugandan society in the blogosphere.
When I asked to become a contributor here, I was hesitant. I was told, sure, come and share, because you are part of the scene too.
Well, I am part of the scene. The whole of me. Attention bloggers, here comes the Devil’s Advocate.