The Kampalan

Robbery Report: Update on Kampala Taxis

2010-05-07T17:13:00.001+03:00

You remember, don’t you, that in the recent past we had taxi robberies in Kampala. I wrote about it here.
Now, the law-enforcement people have come down hard on the crime ring. And this, children, is why Kampala and Nairobi are different.

Kasubi Tombs Burning!

2010-03-16T22:38:00.003+03:00

It appears the Kasubi Tombs, over a hundred years old, are up in flames right now.

Okay, the Kasubi Tombs, a UNESCO World Heritage site, are burning up.

Usually it is arson when a place like that burns down. They are made of grass thatch, the tombs, so the fire will be absolutely devastating.

Already, some fuckwits around me are saying “Government!” I'd be more-likely to say “Opposition!” But I guess it is more-likely some staffer who was careless with fire. Let us wait for news.

(Cross-posted here.)

Ugandan Alcohol

2010-03-15T16:27:00.001+03:00

The Enguli Act is from the colonial days, when (so the myth goes) the colonial Brits wanted to curb the Ugandan tendency for moonshine. It languished as a relic from an age so swiftly and surely gone. We looked at it, with its disparaging name, as yet another thing the pink-eared people did.

Now it has been revived, because, as you know (for are you not Ugandans?), our country has the highest alcohol consumption in the World for the third consecutive year. Roughly twenty litres per month per person!

To curb the tendency for alcohol, a new law will require that bars close by 2200h. Mirabile dictu! This is Uganda! Nobody sleeps before 0200h on Saturday morning!
Of course, the enforcement teams that show up to the bars will be only coming to join the drinking themselves.

And our Bloggers' Happy Hour (the one that gets started in earnest at 1000h, when people raid some innocent, hapless bar like Bubbles O'Leary's or Steak Out)?

(By the way, I moved to a new blog. Run and hide!)

Robbery Report: Kampala Taxi Passengers Getting Robbed

2010-01-31T18:16:00.006+03:00

Hello, tout le monde.
Smelling The Coffee has told us, in this post, Taxi scam, of a new and growing trend in Kampala. Wake up and smell the coffee, as it were.

In short, a taxi stops and picks you up.
You are given the front seat, next to another passenger.
The car drives on for a while, then your front door flies open.
The conductor (behind you) struggles to get it shut, and fails.
You try to shut it and fail.
The passenger next to you asks to hold your bag while you work the door.
You hand over your bag.
You try to shut the door, and still you fail.
So the driver stops for the conductor to take a look at it.
You're told to step out, so the conductor can assume your advantaged position in dealing with the door.
The door shuts.
The taxi vrooms away.
Your bag is gone.

I'll not add the bits about going to the Police Station and finding that you're the third person for the day.

Watch it, everyone. Girls are the ones with the hand bags, but guys also have worries. Like laptop bags, for example.
Hey, Nairobi: we are catchin' up! :o(
Come back, O Operation Wembley.

The Economy, And Feeling Good About Feeling Bad

2009-12-17T16:28:00.009+03:00

I've just been reading this post from Ariaka's blog, Uganda Survives World Economic Downturn.
But if it is a world economic downturn, how is it that Uganda survives? Aren't we part of the World? Well, yes and no. (By the way, read Ariaka's blog. Occassional, but worth it.)
I'm going to have a ball laughing at these peple who get off on seeing the negative in the past, present, and future of Uganda (and Africa in general), but never the positive. They also like to see the positive elsewhere (USA, the West, or, for Kampala's current élite, Rwanda), and never any negatives there. If there are negatives, that's because nobody survives them.
(It's an old and boring trick: express dismay at how bad things are around you, so that you may seem to be so much better than these things are—than you actually are.)

In the beginning of the year, the Ministry of Finance announced that the expected economic growth of Uganda would be 6% for the financial year that was then in the middle. Why? Because there was this “Global” economic crisis.

At the end of that financial year, six months later, the growth rate was actually 7%. Pessimism had been shown to be wrong.

Now, that may have been calculated pessimism; or what we call “conservative estimates”. But there were too many other people calling it a global economic collapse. And I'll dance on their heads now. Is it really that hard to see that Uganda has a reported economic growth of over 7% for more than ten years straight (and the real rate may be in double numbers, because a huge number of transactions are beyond the books), and therefore that Uganda's growth is not tied to America's? (America hasn't had more than 3% since anybody reading this was born, and has been going in the negatives, if the way of measuring had remained consistent.)

You see, when America gets irresponsible with her economy, and it blows up in her face, she says it is global, because, for Americans, the World is America. But the truth is that when America steps aside, there is always us to take up the space. By the way, I'm reading Crash Proof by Peter Schiff, and it was like the most-vocal prophetic book talking about the economy. Nothing in there flatters the American economy of today. Of their fathers and their fathers' fathers, yes: those people produced, lived below their means, invested wisely. But this generation! (Or use this one, easier on your computer.) It also explains how they keep their GDP growth numbers running high, high, high (all of 1.5%) in spite of the real growth being negative. I feel sorry for the generation that will have to pay for this foolishness. Who has space for so many refugees in that weight category?

So, first of all, it was not a “global” economic collapse, because America is not the whole globe. Okay? It was not a global economic collapse (there can't be such a thing, by the way—gold doesn't vanish when you are foolish with it; it just goes to someone else).

Second of all, Uganda has always stood, and will always stand, to gain from such a collapse of those other economies, for a variety of reasons. Uganda is basically a king-in-waiting. What we frogspeak people call le prince heritié. A land endowed with gifts from the hand of God Himself, with more than 50% of the population under 15 years old, with people who have the resourcefulness of angels, with men whose hands are eager and able to work, with women of high resourcefulness and beauty, with the rich and extremely vigorous mixture of Nilotic and Bantu blood within one country, and the raw, untamed Grace of God covering this Blessed Land in its entirety. Rise, ye mighty people!

When I saw people talking of an economic downturn, and calling it global, I just chuckled a bit and got working. The money is only now starting to flow. When the Chinese want a new place to put the money they've generated selling to their obese counterparts in the West, they'll be coming here. Better to get ready, no? Well, we try. So help me, God.
Was there an economic downturn here? Did anyone say so? And did things get better for Uganda? Or worse?

See the pessimism here.
See the part where Andrew Mwenda mentions the impact on Uganda in this article. Incidentally, Mwenda thinks the rescue efforts are good. But they are the problem. If you don't understand that, or you don't understand why that is the case, I urge you again: read Peter Schiff. If you can't buy the book, go here and read his entries as far back as you can: http://www.europac.net/archives.asp
Then this mentions the (goes without saying, Americentric, racial-determinist) index that said that Africans were destined to suffer more from the “global” economic downturn. The index is from the IMF, of course.
Here, someone from The Independent writes that “Uganda Won't Escape Global Crisis”. Of course, all this is because the current élite like pessimism and judging Uganda/Africa as a failure, because it makes them feel better about themselves, and helps them get laid quicker and more-often.

And in the end? Uganda's investments spiked upwards. If you want to know how that works, here's the short of it: when a non-producing giant eats a lot, the producing midgets—like Uganda—make much and eat little. When the giant doesn't eat, we eat. Now, you should all prepare for when the giant goes off the island. Work, work, work. Invest. Save resources (capital, labour, land). Get ready for it. Nothing lasts for ever, for better or for worse. That show is over, now ours begins.

We Are All Homosexuals Now‽

2009-12-04T20:40:00.006+03:00

I use the interrobang in the heading of this post to use both the question mark and the exclamation mark at once. That is its purpose, after all. We are all homosexuals now‽

Now, I'd like to ask a question: how many of you would hear something coming from human rights defenders, if we said that spitting on the roadside should be made illegal, and that “aggravated roadside-spitting” should be punishable by death? Maybe we'd hear nothing.
But if we heard anything, it would be “spitting on the roadside is a human right!”, but is it?

In short: in as far as human rights allow us to do anything we please, then some (perhaps most) human rights must be suppressed. (Here, a bit of narcissism is in order.)

I bring this up in light of the Anti-Homosexuality Bill, upon which I've dwelt before here recently (and in the comments of the follow-up post that GUG made). This is not to equate homosexuality with spitting by the road-side; I just got an example that suffices for my purposes. (That I have to use this disclaimer all the time is a good indicator of how powerful the denouncers have become. If I didn't put it there, I'd quickly be covered with claims that I hate homosexuals, and I called them “evil, vile, live road-spitters” and so on.) This particular post is also agnostic about whether spitting on the road-side and/or homosexuality, among other practices, are human rights.

Anyway, now that I have finished that preamble, I have three points to make. As is my style, that doesn't mean that I'll make much sense. But we all try, don't we?

First of all, as I explain in the comments here, I think that just as the homosexuals can say that they are being oppressed, so can the homosexual-haters. This trope has been used from time immemorial to seal off a group into a situation where it can be oppressed with impunity. You can bet that only a few witches would have been burnt, if people hadn't thought that the witches were oppressing them. Yet we now see that episode as a witch holocaust of oppression—they saw it as a victory over their oppressors.
This trope works well enough to have been repeated all the time, from Jews in Europe to African slaves in America. If it worked for Hitler, it should work for us. (Disclaimer: that's a joke that notes a trend, for all you on-edge people who get so excited at a chance to be offended. A persecution complex is where you persecute yourself. Stop it.)

Second, in the same comments I say that if, as it always was, homosexuals just exist, rather than march bare-chest on the streets in ridiculous clothing, there would be less impetus among non-homosexuals to have them killed. (This ties in with point one: the marching can be construed validly as oppression. Not that there would be zero homophobes, of course, since even baby-killers exist, and babies don't march.) I don't support being in people's faces about who you fuck—if I did the same, I'd never stop marching!
(Another disclaimer to the Homosexual Anti-Defamation League: This isn't limited to homosexuals; I am also against people marching about their favourite drink in ridiculous clothing, where the clothing appears.) Each one of us has a habit that, if he/she marched half-dressed down the road singing about it, most otherwise-good people would want him/her killed dead.
And, whether we like the sound of it or not, it is true: homosexuals and people who eat taboo things are supposed to be mild, at most, about their particular inclinations. (Disclaimer to booger-eaters and mainly to homosexuals: I'm not equating your two groups, just drawing a comparison between two things that are done by a few, and reflexively scoffed at by most others.)

Third and most important, the reason for the post. I have stated this point elsewhere, and here it is again.
Even if you find homosexuality repugnant, you should oppose this attempt to create too much punitive power over the issue.
The reason is, in short, because anyone can claim that you are a homosexual. After all, what does it take to arrest a homosexual? Merely a claim by someone that he is. And so, we are all at risk. If there is anything to learn from the recent spate of preachers using this denouncement—“Homosexual!”—to tackle rivals, it is that the tool is going to be grabbed and wielded by the most-dangerous, people we have among us: Pharisees. Who needs a gun, when one accusation can get the job done? You'll be surprised how far people can go with such power in their hands.

So, oppose the bill, because otherwise I'll get you jailed with much ease. I will. Just you let the Bill pass and you will see.
(But I still maintain that, for as long as this is not purely a local consideration, and there are all these imperialists telling us what to do, then support the bill as a duty to your freedom. No, things aren't quite so black-or-white.)

'Foreign', 'Western' Homosexuality

2009-12-04T09:38:00.000+03:00

Now that the Kampalan is back to being used, hey, I jump from my usual, to here, to spend a little bit of my ire.

Yeah, I have come because 27^th dared to post, (after prodding from me), to attack the anti-homosexual bill.

Maybe, I should be grateful that he posted. Maybe.

But, why don’t I feel grateful?

27^th, I know I am bitter, angry, and lashing out. But, you have been hanging around me for long enough to at least know some truths. And, since my country has a law in parliament, to kill and imprison those of us citizens who are like me, I simply gave up the need to moderate my language. Prepare for some Straight Talk.

Why do you consider that my sexuality foreign?

Why do you, and most fellow Ugandans, believe in this myth of the foreigness of homosexuality?

I consider 27^th to be fairly well read. That is a compliment, brother. Not a put down. But, with intelligence comes responsibility. Why do you make statements like this,

“For the rest, who oppose homosexuality as a way to oppose Western hegemony, I am in full support.”

The rest of the paragraph does no favors to your claim to intelligence. I am not very sure whether you actually believe the communist bullshit. It has been out of fashion for such a long time that, I doubt you really believe it. If you do, well, we all have a right to stupidity.

But, I do know you believe in your heart that my sexuality, homosexuality, is part of the push for ‘Western Hegemony’ blah, blah, blah.

You know, you make me feel like I am not African, like I am not a Ugandan. Have to actually pinch myself. Oh, yesterday, on ‘On the Spot’ (NTV), I saw that ignorant Dr Chris B-something (MP and on the Parliament committee for Health), state that homosexuality is un-African, and un-Ugandan. When challenged, he said he was speaking not as a doctor, but, as a Ugandan. It seems as if, being Ugandan is licence to stupidity on all things homosexual. Good god in heaven!

Oh, thank you very much.

So, dear heterosexual Ugandans, where does this leave us the homosexual, gay minority? We cannot have our seat at the table. Because we are gay. We cannot talk about our sexuality, because it is un-African. We cannot defend the lies of ‘recruitment’ and ‘defilement’ that you tell about us. Because we are gay, and thus when we present the truth, we MUST be spreading homosexuality. Matter of fact, the Bahati bill is out to block all free speech, which, by definition, is spreading homosexuality. In the name of, well, stopping the spread of homosexuality.

27^th, there is this concept that the ‘hugely, humongously bad ‘West’, is forcing homosexuality down your pure Ugandan, African throat. Where does that leave me?

Oh, I know you are not alone. Yesterday, I had a conversation with a brother of mine. He was shocked to know that I first felt sexually attracted to other males when I was just past puberty. In my teens of course. He couldn’t believe that I had not got this ‘sickness’ from somewhere outside Uganda. I must have got it from a foreigner.

What kind of rubbish do you people think in your uncritical heads?

Ok. A bit of education, 27^th. Here are a few facts.

Us homosexuals exist all over the world. We are few, a real minority. About 2-5% of human populations. ALL human populations, even African Ugandan. Homosexuality has been documented in literally ALL animal species. Homosexual Ugandans are a fact. They didn’t get their sexuality from outside. And, you sneering heterosexuals are ignorant of them, and in your deep ignorance, you hurt us with statements like the ‘West’ is forcing you to accept homosexuality.

For heavens sake, take a little time to read your history.

Nazi Germany put gay people in Concentration Camps. 19^th Century Holland used to have gay pogroms. That means that there were riots when suspected gay people were hauled out and summary mob justice administered. They were killed, because they were suspected of being homosexuals. As recently as this year, Gordon Brown was giving a tepid apology to British homosexuals who were castrated, medically and surgically, in a bid to rid them of their sexuality. Alan Turing, ‘Father of Computers’ was one of them. He killed himself, after being forced to go on medical castration treatment. Because he was a homosexual. All his gifts to his country were discounted, because of his sexuality.

Open your eyes, Ugandans. Stop blaming MY sexuality on an enemy that is a myth of YOUR mind. Stop acting like you are nincompoops. Stop NOT thinking. Use a few bits of your brain cells.

I listen with incredulity at the lies that Ssempa tells. Why does he have this impunity? Because you listen, and think it is truth, because he is talking about homosexuals. Who, of course are bad, western influenced, and all sorts of nonsense.

Hey, guys, especially you bloggers, where the hell do you put your brain function when the discussion turns to ‘homosexuality’

Huff, puff, huff, puff….!

Breath in…. Breath out….!

A diatribe. But, forgive me, fellow Ugandans,

WHY ARE YOU SO READY TO BELIEVE TRANSPARENT LIES WHEN THEY ARE TOLD OF HOMOSEXUALS?

The excuse that homosexuality is an emotive subject quickly wears thin. What I am talking about is YOUR LOGICAL REASONING CAPACITY. Why does it work for other things, but never for things that are connected with MY sexuality?

gug

Comparative Recounts, and Why Christians Hate Homosexuals

2009-12-02T23:00:00.007+03:00

By now, of course, it is old news to mention the Anti-Homosexuality Bill being pushed by some Members of Parliament. The bill would, if passed, make it very dangerous to be a homosexual in Uganda. This post has a heavy religious theme, because that is the colour of the debate at the moment. If you are a Christian, you're advised to look away now and go on your merry way.
I shall discuss why Christians hate homosexuals (hint: it's the DNA), and a few other things. See also. See also.

In this post, I will not dwell on those who oppose the Anti-Homosexuality Bill on grounds other than claimed Christian morality.
For the rest, who oppose homosexuality as a way to oppose Western hegemony, I am in full support. Yes. Indeed, I'd support a ban on reproduction if it were to be pushed by the Western imperialistic fascists. As a general rule of thumb, the West wants for us not what makes us strong and resolute, but what makes us weak and unstable. So, if they support it, oppose it a priori. Only after your suspicion is falsified can you, in good conscience, be in agreement about anything at all with these killers of our mothers.

Yet since this isn't my blog, I will dwell no longer on those who, like our President, oppose homosexuality in as far as it is a limb for Western manipulation, hegemony, uniformisation, do-as-I-say-ism, and bullying.
But if you claim that you support the Anti-Homosexuality Bill, in its full extent, because it disagrees with your Christian morals, I have something to say to you and about you. The rest can leave now.

Check out these three verses, if you will. Matthew 9:10-13, Mark 2:15-17, and Luke 5:29-32. They are helpfully arrayed side-by-side here.
By the way, it is bits like these amongst the gospels, recounting as they do a single event, that let us know that the gospels are, in fact, very accurate. When lawyers want to establish that many “witnesses” are telling the truth about a single event, they look for cases, such as these, where the witnesses vary on the fine points but not on the general picture: this is proof that there was no collusion to make up a similar story, but also that the event did, in fact, happen.

Now, the main point of this episode is that Jesus was hanging out with sinners. Of course, everybody is a sinner, including those who were exclaiming about this. But we also know very well that this is understood by those who, today, want the sinners killed. Back then, just as today, some sinners are more sinners than others, in the eyes of those self-righteous Pharisees, whose seed walks amongst us even today. They didn't mean “Jesus eats with people who aren't perfect!” That charge was valid of everybody. Instead, they meant “Jesus eats with people who are perverts!”

So, you, dear Christian, do you know that being a Christian is made up of being Christ-like? I can bet that, since you support this Bill, you are certainly free of this charge. You are many things—even moral—but you're certainly not being Christ-like. If you were, you'd be like the priests and reverends we denounce for communing with these sinners. (And if you are moral, even though not Christ-like, read on.)

I do not want to imply that homosexuality isn't a sin, according to Christian teaching, or that it shouldn't be considered a sin. Indeed, the whole thesis I present here breaks down if it isn't. Homosexuality is a sin. My incessant using of the word “fuck” is also a sin. Nobody should be proud of his failings, but to not acknowledge them as sin is yet worse than even being proud of them. I'm saying: better a city covered in irritating, stupid, decadent homosexuals marching in a gay parade, knowing that they are sinning against God, than a city where a single Pharisee passes for a follower of Christ of Nazareth!
Homosexuality is a sin. But so is Phariseeism. Indeed, I like how this parable is introduced by Luke, in chapter 18, verses 9 to 14 of the gospel that bears his name:

To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everybody else, Jesus told this parable [...]

So, yes, homosexuality is a sin. It will always be. And for as long as it is, so is Phariseeism.

Now, I have something else to say to these very moral Christian friends of mine. You see, I'm not a Christian and I will never be one. You know why? Because Christians are the one group under the Sun who are most-opposed to the beautiful, liberating, good news of Jesus of Nazareth. Having replaced the Pharisees (see above), they have proceeded to, throughout the times, continually crucify Jesus, over and over again, just as they did when he was their archenemy and they his. (They tasted the Grace of God, which gives pardon not because we are good and sufficient, but because the sacrifice was good and sufficient yet return again to the self-righteousness where our righteousness is because of our works, totally disregarding the whole point of the high price paid, akin to some fucker I paid a bill for last week at Nando's and then he went on to pay it again, making me short of Shs. 7,000 for absolutely no fucking reason. If Jesus needed a greatest possible enemy, the Christians are that enemy.)

Ugandan homosexuals: take heart. You are ultimately of Jesus, if only because you're not Pharisees. You will have been forgiven much, and you'll love much. And amongst you, Uganda's most-hated sinners, will be shown unlimited patience as an example to the rest of us.

I am using the rest of this post as an excuse to develop a theme that it would be wrong to leave hanging. You can stop here if you are disgusted enough already.
So, you want a law to tame the raging out-of-control sin of homosexuality? Well, I'll leave our constitutional law and talk about the Biblical Law, because after all, it is the one that originally inspired what you are doing now. Here, have a couple of verses from the great Epistle of St. Paul to the Romans, chapter 5, verses 20 and 21. The law increases sin. It doesn't decrease it, and it certainly doesn't give righteousness (read all of Romans 5, if you read nothing else today). The Law was given to give life to sin, which lies dead without a law. So the law gives life to sin. Legalism, your fuel, O self-righteous Pharisee, is also your condemnation.

You have the fire to condemn these sinners, homosexuals in this case, because you think yourself righteous. And if you considered yourself righteous for the right reasons, you would know that your being good or bad has no bearing on whether or not you are justified. With that knowledge, you'd be more-likely to give the homosexuals love rather than hate. You can know that you are of your father the Hater and Accuser because that is what you do (genetics, yay!) and you haven't love. Those who know that they are justified, not because of them, but because of love (that is, the love of God for us, even while we were still God-haters!) will have the love of fellow humans as a fruit of this profound-yet-simple realisation. If you do not love your brotherman, you are not of God. (Loving doesn't qualify you to be of God—that is covered elsewhere—loving shows that you have realised the profound love in the Grace of God, and it leaks forth from you. He who has been forgiven much loves much. Grace, then love.) Read all of 1 John 4, if that kind of thing rocks your boat.

So, if you considered yourselves righteous for the right reasons—the Grace—you'd not hate. You would love. But you consider yourselves righteous because you act and live by the Law, obeying it fastidiously. And in so doing, you think you're righteous. Boy, do I have some really, really terrible news for you!
Faith in the Grace of God—which you believe, not see, unlike your works of the Law— is the only justification there is in Jesus. Just merely living by the Law is the problem. As you no doubt know, the just (that is, the justified, the made-righteous) shall live by Faith.

You obey the Law and want to stone us. You have lost even the modesty of the Pharisees who came before you and now you do pick the first stone and throw it!
Shame on you! See Matthew 7:1-5 and see a picture of yourselves, you Christians! Now go on to verse 15 to 23, and see another picture of yourselves—and your fate. I never knew you. Away from me, you evil-doers! You know, you'll not be evil-doers because you were worse than the homosexuals. We are all bad. You'll be evil-doers because your works will have failed to justify you.

And there is a bunch of homosexuals reading this and thinking Well, I know it is a sin. Unlike other people over there, I do not pretend that just because I (like to) do something that makes it a good thing to do. But I just can't help myself! I know the good I should do, but the evil is always right here with me, at my groin, driving me to sin! My urges are stronger than I am! What the heck can I do?
Boy, do I have some really, really liberating news for you!

I know everybody will be surprised who ends up judged righteous. That depraved sinners who are not known for good works shall be deemed righteous, as the hymn goes? (Luganda: Tewali munsi muno mulongoofu, songa tewaliba muggulu.) How is that? Abraham believed, and was judged righteous. He only did (works, viz. circumcision) long after he was judged righteous. How is that?
A friend has just sent me this, so I believe it belongs here as the answer: through the righteousness that comes by faith. Heck, read all of Romans 4 as well.

Dancing on a Dead Blogger's Comment Box

2009-11-14T14:56:00.007+03:00

You all know, by now, that the Vice President is mourning his recently-dead son. Ugandans are generally a very vicious bunch, of course, and they took this most-inconsolable moment in a father's life to spew forth lots of noise about politics. All this especially after the Vice President said he had wanted this son to succeed him after he is gone. Perhaps we find it hard to feel sorry for politicians (because, of course, we think we are so much more justified and righteous than those corrupt lying bastards, of course, those vile and shameless tax collectors—publicans!—and immoral vermin that are our politicians). Perhaps we don't yet know what it is to inter your own children; we still live in the ideal that what cometh after goeth after also. The shock of how quickly plans extending into the far future can be undone by a night-time phone call—“Your son (sob), hurry up (sob), to the hospital (sob), he has had an accident (sob), I think he won't survive (sob).”—and you know before you put the phone down that courage just failed your informant: you son is already dead, forever dead, and the plans you had that are 26 years old are now void and dead also. Sob. We don't know these things, most of us, and so we make light of this tragedy. We even see comedy in it, sometimes.

But I wonder what you, dear bloggers, would do if you found that the deceased we have been chuckling about was one of us?

I'm just from Zack's Utopia, and I've found out that Bryan Bukenya was also a blogger, one of us. Here is his weblog. He was blogging long before the huge majority of us started blogging. (He also stopped before most of us started.) But if you assume that he was just as lively a person on the day before he died as he was in his last blog post, you start to see the fragility of life.
His last post is a call of encouragement to his father who was (unfairly, I maintain, or at least disproportionately) being targetted for relentless, selfish, self-righteous Phariseeist criticism from our couch politicians. (Most people would have a crumbling country five seconds after being handed the Vice Presidency. Most people think that governing is easy and can be done by everyone - one of the bigger lies of democracy. Most people, also, are foolish. Connect the dots.)

Anyway, now imagine that Bryan wants to comment on our weblogs and he can't. Perhaps he wants to say something in this comments section.
Whatever, anyway. So, we had the opportunity to honour a fallen blogger, and we didn't do it. Since we will all die some time, there are many more chances to correct this grave mistake.
And when you die, I hope it won't be before your parents. That grief has no comparison, and Heaven forfend that we should ever—under any pretext—make light of it.
Anyway, when you die, remember that I'll at least pay you respects as a fallen blogger, one of us. Even as the rest of them go bananas. :o) (Remember that both you and I make many suicide attempts—willingly place ourselves in escapable positions where the probability of dying in the next ten minutes is very high—every time we sit on a boda-boda. This is before the boda-boda starts to move at all. You and I are closer to death, in fact, than he was. As the frogs say, La vie est courte.)

These Pretty Little Riots of Ours

2009-09-11T12:04:00.007+03:00

They say that if you want to keep abreast of issues, face Twitter. Now, I'm not on Twitter (anymore, after my brief experiment with it). But it seems true. It's what all the cool kids are doing. This kid is particularly cool, if I dare say so myself. I'll explain why, later, and also why you should take my comments with a cup of sodium chloride.
But I dare say that Facebook is also alive. It is not very “activist”, but it is alive. The evidence is here.

Now, if you are out of your office (which is where almost all of Uganda gets the Internet), and you want to send to your Twitter and Facebook (and receive from there, as well!), what are you to do? Your phone can't work the web, because it's a phone. (They are for calls and SMS, those phone things.) Or perhaps it can work the web, but you don't have the airtime. Or the web is slow. What, then, are you to do? After all, these riots won't report themselves.

'Cause it's people like you,
Oh, people like me.
People need to be free, yeah.
There's a place in the sun,
Where there is love for everyone,
Where we can be, yeah.

I know a place where we can carry on!
~ Bob Marley (I know a place)

I know a place, where we can carry on. It is called ... UTL Facebook/Twitter SMS service. Since it is free of charge, it is, in fact, stupid not to use this service. It is currently the cheapest way to work your Twitter and Facebook in the world.

Twitter first.
Send 'tweetme' to 2299 on UTL, and you'll get information on how to sign up. I'll recap the info here, because it seems a bit complex, from the attempts to get onto the system that I've seen.

Send 'tweetme [yourusername]' to 2299.
If, for example, your Twitter username is ‘enfanterrible728’, you send
tweetme enfanterrible728
to 2299. You'll get back instructions.

Get the PIN code from Twitter
The instructions you receive on doing step 1 above include a web address. Visit that web address and Twitter will give you a PIN code. Record this PIN code down somewhere, and then do step 3.
If you don't know where to find the messages sent to you, then just follow the web address in the message (it is shortened to make it easy to type, and to fit it into the SMS). The instructions are posted with @enfanterrible728, for example, so you should be able to find them when you check for messages sent to you via @username.
When you complete the process, the system removes this message out of courtesy. :o)

Send the PIN code to 2299 as explained below
Assuming, again, that your name is ‘enfanterrible728’, send the PIN code you received in step 2 from Twitter to 2299 in a message like this:
tweetme enfanterrible728 123456778
. In this example, the PIN code is ‘123456778’.
When you send two words after the keyword ‘tweetme’, the system will think that the second one is the PIN code.

You're on!
When the step above is completed, you'll be up and running. To send to your Twitter stream, you send to the keyword ‘now’. So, when you write Now The rioters have moved towards the south of the city! and send it to 2299, it will show up on your Twitter stream as The rioters have moved to the south of the city!
To receive your Twitter stream, send ‘twitter’ to 2299. Simple.

The best thing about this service (apart from the fact that it is free) is that you can receive from your Twitter feed by sending ‘twitter’ to 2299. When you send twitter to 2299, you get your Twitter stream (since the last time you requested, or the latest 5, if it's your first time). There are other things you can do with the ‘twitter’ keyword, but they will make this too long.

Now, Facebook.
To sign up for Facebook, send 'fbme' to 2299. You will get instructions that are, in many ways, analogous to the ones described above for Twitter. When you sign up, you will be able to send to your Facebook Wall.
If you understood the instructions for Twitter, you've understood the instructions for Facebook as well. The only differences in them are noted explicitly in the messages that the system sends you. (Facebook requires visiting two web addresses, instead of one, and these are visited in strict order, one after the other. Also, there is no need to send usernames for Facebook accounts.)
The Facebook application is the less-tested of the two, so it would actually rock if you tried it, so that I can iron the bugs and infelicities out of it quickly. If you have a suggestion to make, send to the ‘bug’ keyword.

When you sign up for Facebook, you can send ‘now [message]’, and that message will go to your Facebook wall.

Now, if you are signed up for both services, Twitter and Facebook, your message will go to both your Twitter stream and your Facebook Wall, when you send ‘now [message]’. This is cool, but sometimes you don't want that. So, instead, you do the following.

If you want to send only to Twitter, and yet you are also signed up for Facebook, send the message to 2299 like this: twitter send [message] instead of using the ‘now’ keyword. That will only send the message to Twitter, when you send twitter send [message].

If you want to send only to your Facebook Wall, and yet you are also signed up for Twitter, send the message to 2299 like this: fb send [message] instead of using the ‘now’ keyword. When you send the message fb send [message], it will only send your message to your Facebook Wall.

I chose the ‘now’ keyword because it fits the reporting state better. If you want to suggest another keyword, it takes me all of 10 seconds (I'm serious) to put it into the system. For example, I'm going to make ‘omg’ an alias of ‘now’, so that you can say omg these rioters are mad! and it will show up on your Twitter stream or Facebook Wall as these rioters are mad!.

Now, the situation in Kampala has caused a premature announcement (of sorts) for this service. What to do, though? The men make plans, the gods decide. :o) It is free, this service. I've already plugged it quite shamelessly in many places. See here, for example, and here. Lucy, also has a riot timeline here.

So, what are the terms and conditions?
In short, there is no censorship, no fear, and no favour. Post away. :o) The exchanges are not cached in the system in a way that would injure privacy at all, and indeed many things are made complex (signing up, messaging) precisely because your privacy is being respected.
Thanks to all those who helped me test the service.

Über-fast Internet: Natural Mystic Blowing Through the Cables

2009-09-09T20:22:00.005+03:00

I'm seated at UTL's headquarters at Telephone House.
Something big—quite big—and fast—very, very fast—is happening here.

You know already that the Seacom Undersea Cable landed ashore a while back. Joshua mentioned that YouTube videos have to be left to buffer (for like, I don't know, 40 times their run length, when the gods are smiling), and that it was no longer necessary.
The video he mentions in that post is too small to be a good sample of speeds.

Me, I just loaded this here one.

And, you see, I didn't even hesitate to embed it, rather than politely link to it because I am on a fast internet myself, and you should be too, so that this is not a problem.

You see, UTL has joined the fibre optic cable. And I played a video without having buffered it first. It's quite cool, actually. It's only slightly less than they say it is.
Because, you see, a faster connection doesn't mean you click faster—or read faster, or that Bob Marley will sing faster. I didn't know! :-o Quelle surprise!
But now watch the video, first. If you are on UTL (or should that be ÜTL?), it should play pretty fast. It's a good measure.
Here's some info from DSL Reports:

Now, I didn't do tests with the previous speeds, so I can't make any comparisons.

Joshua mentioned some stuff in this other post, and the numbers in the DSL Reports pic seem to match the wholesale and retail plan that he describes. Cool.
The way I understand it, again coming in at the tail end of the veritable Joshua, UTL picked the connection up by signing with Infocom. They have hurried for the market, rather than wait for the cable onto which they put money. This latter sentence should be in the subjunctive tense, if I were to write in some Latinate language. :o)

The Rogue King had a very read-worthy radio session (visit the post and see what I mean). His post is pertinent, and should temper all the excitement in a sensible way.
Now, lastly, two more links old links of pieces that you should see, if you didn't see them. One is from Jackfruity. It's here because it syndicated widely. The other is from Bazanye, so that you may know that some of the hype that you will read in the media is not news, but advertisement. You can trust this, though. When I get paid to do ads, I'll tell you.

And just to irritate you all, see that half of my prophecy has come true. The other half, the one that Rogue King tells us to watch, is a little more-precarious, but I'm hopeful that I won't be stoned to death.
Now, watch that Bob Marley video, fast connection or no. Watch the majestic entrance. Watch the reaction of the crowd. Watch the way the rhythm flow naturally. Watch, O reader, the greatest of the contemporary prophets. There's a natural mystic blowing through the (h)air. :o)

Whats Up?

2009-07-16T13:09:00.002+03:00

Suspicious...

I have not been blogging, for a while, dont expect my posts to have been the last... But they were!

Why? What has happened to the blogloren?

No more Happy Bloggers hours? No more jokes? No more meetings of poets?

What's up dudes? Pray, tell...

gug

An afternoon

2009-04-02T19:28:00.002+03:00

sprinkling of
hot, golden bright sunshine on
the deep, emerald jewel
green of leaves;

It covers all,
does the sun-
even the buildings
rust red and browns;
the crumbling slum
rooftops that like
mud of an overflowing
river touch valley bottoms.

The roads,
deeply holed asphalt
arteries peopled by an
abundance of men and
women, children, an overflow
like real blood cells do,

In the richer
suburbs trees tall and green
leaf the air-
mature compounds mimic
the solid, long gone green
cover of natural rainforest
and huge houses peep
jewels of colour in
green cloth of nature.

Kampala the
beautiful, indeed.

(c) gayuganda 02 April 09

Kampala, From a Distance

2009-03-23T12:55:00.001+03:00

GayUganda

Food for Thought

2009-03-23T12:46:00.004+03:00

Carried over from my blog here.

and following on the last post here, Debate

Feeling Cheeky. Want to poke a little sister in the eye.

And since the Pope has gone around Africa de-campaigning Condoms, I am posting this, though it seems to have passed the 'sell by date', in the news cartegory. But it still is something momentous, isnt it?

(PS, came accross a website where Ssempa was praising the Pope's statement. Laughed. Religion is all about the politics of living!)

gug

Rape row sparks excommunications

By Gary Duffy

BBC News, Sao Paulo

A Brazilian archbishop says all those who helped a child rape victim secure an abortion are to be excommunicated from the Catholic Church. The girl, aged nine, who lives in the north-eastern state of Pernambuco, became pregnant with twins. It is alleged that she had been sexually assaulted over a number of years by her stepfather.

The excommunication applies to the child's mother and the doctors involved in the procedure.

The pregnancy was terminated on Wednesday.

Abortion is only permitted in Brazil in cases of rape and where the mother's life is at risk and doctors say the girl's case met both these conditions. Police believe that the girl at the centre of the case had been sexually abused by her step-father since she was six years old.

The fact that she was pregnant with twins was only discovered after she was taken to hospital in Pernambuco complaining of stomach pains.

Her stepfather was arrested last week, allegedly as he tried to escape to another region of the country. He is also suspected of abusing the girl's physically handicapped older sister who is now 14.

Intervention bid

The Catholic Church tried to intervene to prevent the abortion going ahead but the procedure was carried out on Wednesday. Now a Church spokesman says all those involved, including the child's mother and the doctors, are to be excommunicated. The Archbishop of Olinda andRecife, Jose Cardoso Sobrinho, told Brazil's TV Globo that the law of God was above any human law.

He said the excommunication would not apply to the child because of her age, but would affect all those who ensured the abortion was carried out.

However, doctors at the hospital said they had to take account of the welfare of the girl, and that she was so small that her uterus did not have the ability to contain one child let alone two.

While the action of the Church in opposing an abortion for a young rape victim is not unprecedented, it has attracted criticism from women's rights groups in Brazil.

Ideals outside reality. Food for thought.

Vatican backs abortion row bishop

Cardinal Re said the attack on Brazil's Catholic Church was unjustified. A senior Vatican cleric has defended the excommunication in Brazil of the mother and doctors of a young girl who had an abortion with their help.

The nine-year-old had conceived twins after alleged abuse by her stepfather. Cardinal Giovanni Battista Re told Italian paper La Stampa that the twins "had the right to live" and attacks on Brazil's Catholic Church were unfair. It comes a day after Brazil's president criticised the Brazilian archbishop who excommunicated the people involved. Brazil only permits abortions in cases of rape or health risks to the mother.

Doctors said the girl's case met both these conditions, but the Archbishop of Olinda and Recife, Jose Cardoso Sobrinho said the law of God was above any human law. He said the excommunication would apply to the child's mother and the doctors, but not to the girl because of her age.

'Sad case'

Cardinal Re, who heads the Roman Catholic Church's Congregation for Bishops and the Pontifical Commission for Latin America, told La Stampa that the archbishop had been right to excommunicate the mother and doctors. Life must always be protected, the attack on the BrazilianChurch is unjustified "It is a sad case but the real problem is that the twins conceived were two innocent persons, who had the right to live and could not be eliminated," he said.

"Life must always be protected, the attack on theBrazilian Church is unjustified."

The abortion was carried out on Wednesday.

Brazil's President Luiz Inacio Lula da Silva, himself a Catholic, said on Friday that he regretted what he described as the cleric's deeply conservative attitude. "The doctors did what had to be done: save the life of a girl of nine years old," he said. The girl, who lives in the north-eastern state of Pernambuco, was allegedly sexually assaulted over a number of years by her stepfather, possibly since she was six. The fact that she was four months' pregnant with twins was only discovered after she was taken to hospital in Pernambuco complaining of stomach pains. Her stepfather was arrested last week, allegedly as he tried to escape to another region of the country. He is also suspected of abusing the girl's physically handicapped 14-year-old sister.

I will be very cruel. Food for thought, for my idealistic big lil sis. Food for thought.

This only works if you are not afraid to think. Or afraid not to think outside the box. Interesting. Because, in this day and age, it is important to notice that people do believe, and strongly.

Sad case? Not realy. Eye opening reality. When we 'idealists' become more cruel than the devil, all in the name of god. Or our ideals. Food for thought.

gug

Debate

2009-01-25T10:18:00.002+03:00

We’ve been having an interesting debate over at Princess’s blog.

Old issues. Americans call them the ‘cultural war’ –the abortion debate. A misnomer- many, and diverse people are united, and divided by them. You may not believe it but GWB and Osama bin Laden are both pro-life, as is, for your consumption, Museveni and Besigye. And on the issue of us homos, they see eye to eye.

Princess started it off.

She was in church, and, was introduced to a rabidly pro-choice doctor. [pro-choicers, for the un-informed, believe in the woman’s right to choose, on an individual basis, in matters of sex and pregnancy.] And, pro-lifers believe that the right to life is absolute. A mother has no choice to the new life that is in her, at pregnancy.

Princess is very Ugandan. She was pro-life before, and what she read or was told at church sickened her, and strengthened her belief in pro-life issues. She blogged about it, and I stumbled on the blog post.

I, the devil’s advocate, don’t like nice cut and dried things. Pro-choice and pro-life seem to be nice, parallel roads, leading in opposite directions. There is no middle ground, for proponents of either view. And, to supporters of one point of view, the others are devils and evil incarnate. A clear cut choice?

I am not so sure. The evidence out there, seems to suggest that there are some good arguments for either road. They are not simplistically parallel. There are lots of gray areas, and a lot of good people are on either side of the debate. And, lots of evil people championing either one or the other, happy in the division, lampooning the other side as evil and devilish, and that ‘we’ are on the side of angels.

And, why not? We are all human being, with the intelligence and capacity to think, in distinctly logical ways, getting to distinctly different, and even opposed conclusions.

Princess, (lil sis as I used to call her then) once asked me whether I was pro-choice. I didn’t answer. [Maybe this post will tell her whether or not I am].

I dislike mental strait jackets, thinking constraints that are defined as ‘truth’ and ‘faith’. I like the gray area, the road verge defined by the conclusions I can derive, and believe. If you have a right to faith, I have a right to believe in the derivatives of my thought.

So, most Ugandans are ‘pro-life’. They believe, without question, that the right to life triumphs every other choice. It is an instinctive belief, for most, without having thought through the pros and cons. Uganda is a religious country- whether it is the Christian Pentecostals, Orombi’s protestants, or the Tabliqs, they all believe fervently in their religions. Even the much maligned believers in traditional religions are also there, sacrificing humans for wealth, prescribing ‘under-the-lake rituals’ and the casting of the ‘evil eye’ on our neighbors. [Maybe the true statement is that Ugandans are very superstitious, not religious.]

The result is the same,- most Ugandans have pro-life sentiments. One time while listening to a Ugandan fm station, I eavesdropped the dj musing; apparently someone had calculated that more than 200,000 unsafe abortions were done in Uganda annually. And the dj was disgusted. What was the police doing? Why weren’t all these abortionists in prison, she demanded.

But that does not look at the other side of the coin. What are the figures for availability of contraception? What kind of contraception is available, and how expensive or cheap is it? How many mothers die of abortion and pregnancy related complications? I have heard at least one doctor lament that we have one of the highest maternal mortality rates in the world. Must have been Ian Clarke or someone like that… Or maybe he doesn’t matter because he is not Ugandan and only Ugandan women die in that way…!

Museveni (and Nadduli) have been quoted telling the population that they do not believe in contraception. Oh well.

Pro-lifers who are weirdly weird? I will roll into the same breath the Pope, who believes that despite not having sex, he can outlaw the use of condoms- to the people who kill doctors for doing abortions. Did you know that it is the medical doctors in Uganda who actually are at the forefront of the support for the legalization of abortion?

And the pro-choicers?

Someone made a sweeping statement on Princess’s blog. If you don’t want a baby, just don’t have sex. Really?

[Poor me, I want a baby, and have been practicing all these years, and have no baby!!!!, but I am bringing my sexuality into the debate, which seems to anger many people. Ha!]

Sex and babies. Seems to be intrinsically linked, huh?

Bad beginning. To the argument, I mean.

I once saw this photo of a woman in the depth of Africa’s villages. She was hugely pregnant. She had a baby suckling at her breast, and one on her back, and a kid about two or three holding her hand. She was dressed in rugs. Sigh. Did that African woman really have any choice at all? I have blogged about the Saudi girl who was married off at 9 years of age to solve her daddy’s debt problem. Her distressed mom took the case to the Saudi courts, which upheld the marriage. Only one caveat. The 45 year old husband was not to have sex with the child until she had passed puberty. Translated, till the first menses. Does this girl-woman have any choice?

What about the 12 year old girl who was convicted of adultery in Somalia, and stoned to death in a stadium, with 1000 people looking on? According to her mother, she was raped. The court of laws refused that defence. Was Sarah Palin right to keep the pregnancy when she knew the child had Down’s Syndrome? Was she right to convince her daughter to keep the pregnancy when she was going to become a teenage mother?

I am being intentionally obtuse in my arguments. Who needs an essay that is factual and well argued in this polarized debate? Of course, by now, you the reader has gotten incensed at my point of view, or the lack thereof. GWB, in the first days of his presidency, signed a presidential order denying… Why am I going into that? Obama has reversed that order, almost as quickly, days into his presidency. I do not happen to be any kind of expert into the details of the abortion debate. All I really know is that there are some true areas of craziness.

So, am I pro-choice, or pro-life?

Why, do I have to make a decision on that? It is a false choice. I don’t want to, nor do I need to decide to be on any side of that debate. Conditions differ, and I certainly do not want to be drawn into the ‘cultural wars’ of this planet. Life is too complex to be resolved into the various labels that are so easy for those who think they are thinking… or that they know what they believe.

And, after all, I am gay. Devil incarnate? Maybe. And maybe not.

GayUganda

The Literary Blogren

2009-01-22T01:56:00.002+03:00

Lucy at where beauty lies has issued a challenge: write a short story, on a theme to be decided, for inclusion in an anthology of works by Ugandan bloggers:

i was wondering if we could all,as blogren write a short story anthology.
i was planning to do one solo and thought i would pass on the idea and say use one theme... like 'a cup of tea' or something like that so that it rotates around one theme but various voices..

...

can we do it? lemme know
and we could do our own blogeren collection

ummm pick a theme, the most voted for theme will be used and deadline for stories should be 30th april this year. i will deal with the publishing and stuff pass it on to the other bloggers. thanks...
thats if you are game

1. a table for two.
2. i call it war!
3. when love loses meaning.
4. the punctuated letter.
5. a lot about life
6. urban afternoons
7. over a mug of coffee
8. did you hear that? (collection of ghost stories)
9. i didnt die (horror and macabre stories)
10. when we say goodbye. (as long as its sad, death of people, heartbreak etc)
11. Lover's rock (about love)

Head over to the original post to vote for your favorite topic, then start writing.

2009-01-17T12:50:00.002+03:00

A POETRY RECITAL:

Owing to the smashing success of their first poetry recital, the The Lantern Society of Poets, under their name "The Lantern Meet" will be hosting their second ever Grand Poetry Recital.

For One Night. And One Night Only, "The Meet" as its known by insiders will be holding a grand recital under the theme "The Campfire". With over 50 pieces of poetry, music, prose and verse to share, the Meet seems pretty sure they can repeat their last feat: keep an audience entirely entertained and thrilled through uncharted territory for three hours!

As if to dare the fates, like they did before, the show is free and they actually plan to start the event on time! This, from an almost diabolical amalgam of law students, engineers, sociologists, doctors, and the ocassional journalist, presents for humor and some tear-jerking moments. For the first time, they will be presenting in the National Theatre Main Auditorium! And yes, all the work they will recite is generated by members of the meet. Add to this guest appearances by some truly gifted; discovered and undiscovered talent, and its really a quetsion of Deal or No Deal?

The Lantern Meet of poets is a group of young poets who gather fortnightly to share and critique poetry. Now entering its third year the meet has grown to have over 50 official members and a whole lot of auxiliaries. The idea behind the meet was born by some students who thought about the need to revive the love and use of poetry in our literal and often bland societal confines. What started as a cell of guys meeting in a friend's room to read poetry has now grown to a fully registered and recognized association.

When the first Grand poetry recital was held in August, it was a nouveau, if even, near-exclusive idea. The idea had been to invite a few friends and have a night of readings. It turned out to be a packed house of 120 people in a room planned and meant for only 80-90 people!

With fresh zeal, the Lantern Meet is back once again in a new theme, brand new poetry from its bumper of litanies, odes and dirges. And all the laughs we had before! Telling stories, compelling poems, demanding guile; all the features that made grandfather stories so irresistable! Around the campfire we will gather, you should too.

Our rich man Zuch surrounded by the Mistresses of Micah in the performance last August

What: The Campfire; A Poetry Recital

When: Friday, 30th January 2009

Time: 6:00pm -9:00pm

Where: The National Theatre, Main Auditorium

Entrance: FREE!

To register your attendance:
On Facebook
On Blogger
Or just show up with your love offering for a night of fun and laughter.

A Sunset from Namirembe Hill

2008-12-01T18:50:00.004+03:00

gayuganda

A Dusting of Rain

2008-11-28T13:55:00.002+03:00

From a sky clear of clouds-

sunny and blue and bright,

through the air, clear of dust-

clean and clear and bright,

drops a sparkling drizzle of rain.

It will not last long, no clouds holding

buckets and buckets of water-

indeed the sun’s rays are strong and golden

from a blazing blue sky

but from thence come the drops of water,

glinting and golden, sparkling

like diamonds-

children play in this, a dusting of rain;

bright and cheerful, happy and content.

Unusual happening,

the rain and sun mixed,

sun not too hot, rain a sprinkly drizzle,

balm on the skin that it bathes,

quickly warmed and dried by the

golden sunshine-

It is beautiful, a

dusting of a drizzle of rain,

all mixed and sprightly with

the sun’s golden light and rays

a dusting of rain to polish the mind

and lift the heart to holy high praise.

©GayUganda 28 Nov. 2008

Err, this is not a dusting, but a deluge, more common than not in Kampala.

Book Swap

2008-10-08T15:14:00.003+03:00

Do you like to read? Do you buy books a lot? Do you wish you could trade with someone else for books you haven't read?

Image respectfully ripped from www.bookmooch.com

I will be organising a bi-monthly do, where if you fit the criteria mentioned above, we will meet and swap the books we have read for those we want to read.

If you are interested, send me an e-mail to darlkom@gmail.com

Nice reading!

Not a good weekend

2008-10-06T18:50:00.002+03:00

Not a great weekend to be a Ugandan ragga star. Bobi Wine's show was cancelled for fear of terrorism, and then Chameleone had a serious fall from a third-storey hotel window.

More as more becomes available.

Wine or Owiyo?

2008-10-03T20:45:00.002+03:00

Suzanne Owiyo is coming to town. She will be at this months Zamani concert. Emin Pasha. Go check it out.

Here is her on youtube, so you can listen to samples if you are one of those heathens who has never heard her sing, and here is the Monitor's Rafsanjani with the story.

It's either that or Bobi Wine's Mazzi Mawanvu concert.

THe Maurice Kirya Experience

2008-09-29T11:53:00.002+03:00

Fans of artsy-fartsy, neo-soulish, acousticky songs, or simply fans of good music should fuel up their Coronas in anticipation of this month's Maurice Kirya Experience. Every last Teusday the kid and his guitar, plus special guests do their thing at Club Rouge, and tomorrow is the last Teusday.

That is September 30th.

Here is Maurice's Myspace page-- It has some streaming music, and here is his Facebook group. (Hoping that Facebook groups link. If not, just log on and search for Maurice Kirya Experience in the groups.)

Cabinet Court Jester.

2008-09-24T11:16:00.002+03:00

I am the Devil's Advocate, so, you will all allow me a licence to humour.

I have been keenly following the Nsaba Buturo statements over the years.

I have, because he is so 'anti-gay'. So, perforce, I must know what my enemies are doing. I am aware that he is a PhD in Economics. Presumably that means Doctor of Philosophy. It was awarded by a prestigious British University.

The President of the Republic appointed him, at first, State Minister for Information. That was not long ago. He was the official government spokesman, and we got used to his severe, unbending, unsmiling face articulating one thing after another.

He did so well at that post that, in the next he was appointed to a higher post. More in fitting with his high moral standing and political force. He became Minister of State for Ethics and Integrity.

Nsaba Buturo is an intelligent man. I do not doubt that at all.

But his severe court jester face is puzzling me. Or, is it meant to puzzle us?

Is he just playing the game, apparently from off the pitch but actually well within the playing field? The NSSF scandal is a hot potato at the moment. Huge.

A cabinet minister is involved. A potential heir to the throne. Billions in workers' pensions. The opposition, the parliament. Everything.

Then how come the Minister of Ethics and Integrity is, of a sudden, interested in 'miniskirts causing accidents,' to the point he wants them banned? And the stamp down on prostitution to the point of chasing the buyers, and shaming them. Of course the sellers are shameless. Check out Speke Road at 10pm a Saturday night.

Red Herrings, jammers, diversions, distractions?

Could it be that the Honourable Nsaba-Buturo is actually just trying to create a diversion in the heat of the moment? Laughable? Well, I would not put it past him.

The guy is clever. He is no Ssempa. Despite the fact that they both claim PhDs. There are some very significant differences between Ssempa and Nsaba-Buturo.

So, why is he acting the fool?

Nsaba Buturo, Member of Parliament, Minister of Ethics and Integrity- is he also the official Court Jester? A very deliberate Cabinet Comedian?

GayUganda

Bloggers Happy Hour

2008-09-21T23:54:00.002+03:00

This Thursday is another Bloggers' Happy Hour.

The date is 25th September, the time is 6.30pm and the place is Mateos.

If you are a blogger and you find yourself in Kampala on that date, feel free to drop by. We just might be talking about the NSSF scandal or Big Brother or the new mini-skirt ban in the works. Then again, maybe not. Do drop by and see for yourself.

Rain in Kampala

2008-09-21T11:56:00.002+03:00

[I wrote this yesterday. Today, Sunday, it is a very beautiful sunny morning. Though, as I speak, there is a hint of water in the air. Soon, it might rain. Just wanted to share this with you out there!

Its raining.

A warm, slow rain.

Was raining when I woke up. My lovers warm body was too tempting. Too tempting by half. So, set off almost late for the morning. It was a drizzle then, but once out, I could see the dark thunderclouds to the east and I knew it was going to rain. Just prayed I would be able to get to work before the heavens opened up.

And they have, when I was already at work.

Rain over Kampala.

The sun is a favorite season, with the heat, and the brightness, and the sheer sense of light all around. But the rain is also a favorite season. True, the roads become ribbons of red mud, and we have to pick and choose where we step. The light is lost, and the overcast is usually heavy. But, usually, it does not last that much, which is a fantastic thing. Yet, when it is raining, the gentle drops on the roads, the splash of water as the vehicles go by, everything. It is a beautiful season.

--

Poetry, to me, is a wish, a desire, an itch

To take the world around me

Put it in words-

Not immortal, not transcendental,

Just words

That will lift from the spirit of the moment

Wrap in words to communicate;

Take muse's guidance

And make it sparkle and spin in words.

Take the day, today-

Grey skies, pregnant and heavy, releasing rain;

The mist of the morning, drizzle that will not let up,

Making so many of us, Kampalans

Uncomfortable with the, unusual wetness;

It is a bane

And a boon-

Muse's stirred, and listens

To the movement of the earth,

The faint stirring of the waters, though it be far off.

There's something in the air that I would put in words

Something in the skies, the dark clouds, the heavy mist

The traffic on the roads, the splash of rain on the streets;

The squish and squelch of water underfoot-

Common, common things

But nothing is more uncommon

Than me being here, listening to it, with the heart, the mind open.

Even my soul listens

To the mood of the moment-

Sombre ecstasy, the power of living, that of breathing-

There's something in the rain

And the skies, and the mood-

The heavy cars, rushing people

There's something beneath, that has muse stirring.

©GayUganda 20 September 2008

National Book Week Closes

2008-09-19T20:03:00.002+03:00

The National Book Week was here, and is gone. It closes tomorrow.

Blogger Ugandan Insomniac, (ugandaninsomniac.wordpress.com) who should be canonised for her efforts, has been championing the cause fervently.

Meanwhile, in the Monitor, Dennis D Muhumuza rounded up a few people who have a professional or personal stake in the culture of reading and asked them why they read. Story here.

Ummmmmm!!!

2008-09-15T00:57:00.003+03:00

How to reply to a writer like so, and not seem like an ass? I am supposed to reply to this post.

If I try my best, I will come off looking just like an ass. Or a gorilla. Or, a baboon, like my dear sister kindly reports of me. And she does have a good insight into the workings of my poor mind. So, I will try my level best NOT to confirm her opinion of me, as well as make the ‘World’s like best humourist’ [according to 27th] look like a fool.

I am the Devil’s Advocate. And, it is just my self elected job to punch a few holes in the arguments presented, and then, of course, ask any and sundry to hold the two of us to your ridicule or praise.

First, Baz, that is a beautiful article.

Well written, well researched, well presented. I thought you would be taking a different point of view, that is why I accused you of lying. Well, I am quick like that. [by the way, Princess tells me that you have put me up for an award. I hope it is complimentary. But, well, I don’t expect it to be so!]

As I said, I am very quick at judgement.

And slow to anger, and with a low boiling and melting point.

That is with praising me.

You do love your work, don’t you Baz? You trained for it, and put in hours, and go on to get do it to the best of your ability. You know where it falls short. But like a child of yours, you love it nevertheless.

So, it seems so natural to you to compare blogging to journalism. ‘Citizen journalism’ you call it. And that is where I get you, my dear.

Diamonds and charcoal, they are made of the same thing.

It is true. They are both made of carbon. Yet, Baz, you will pay through the nose to get a diamond to put on your lover’s hand. Common charcoal, the one that you get from the roadside vendor to cook your supper, it is made of the same thing. Baz, would you dare compare the two?

Can you compare blogging and journalism?

Surely yes? Because both things are writing. That is what you seem to imply.

That, of course, it the problem with the Monitor article which set this thing off. Someone decided to state a false thesis. And, because it seemed superficially true, he built a castle of reason around it.

Unfortunately, the bloggers who felt insulted, never even thought of attacking the central thesis. By being on the defensive, they validated it. And held themselves to the problematic comparison.

Due to un-popular demand, this article has been shortened.

Sometimes one finds a level of meanness in one's self that transcends all desires and demands to the contrary.

Sigh, even I, the devils advocate, sometimes falls for that kind of thing.

Gug, Devil's Advocate

Kampala's pre-teen street preacher gets international spotlight

2008-09-11T19:18:00.001+03:00

If you have walked through one of the finest coffeeshops in central Kampala on an evening where you look even a bit iniquitous, you may have come across Muwanguzi Achilewo. He is the raspy-voiced kid who could claim to be the youngest of the city’s myriad street preachers.

In fact, if you have attended any of the monthly Uganda Blogger’s Happy Hour meets, you have definitely seen him.

Muwanguzi got Beebed this week: BBC reporter Salim Kikeke describes him as

“smartly dressed, wearing a faded denim jacket and holding a book - the Bible.”

He is energetically preaching to whoever passes him by.
"Let me be with you. Hurry up!" he shouts incessantly in a raspy mixture of English, Kiswahili and the local Luganda language, over the noisy traffic.
"Praise the Lord.

Check out the story here

Update:

But Lil Achilewo isn’t the only one— Francis Sebunya, a ten-year-old had been preaching daily for three months when the Monitor found him and got an interview earlier this year. Story here.

Uganda the Beautiful

2008-09-11T12:16:00.003+03:00

In Uganda the Beautiful,

it’s the fresh beauty of spring

and golden heat of summer

all through the year;

knowing not the harshness of winter,

nor its great gray strangeness,

but touching all the rainbow shades

of sunny lovely weather.

©GayUganda 11 September 2008

Bloggers, Citizen Journalism and The Truth

2008-09-10T20:29:00.005+03:00

Uganda has had blogs for some years now, but it was at the peak of
riot season last year that we saw the most exemplary work of citizen
journalism. It was when the chaos surrounding the Mabira Forest
giveaway rocked the city centre. All over town people were worried and
afraid. A little less worried were those of us who knew about the blog
of a young Ugandan whose office was on the upper storeys of a city
centre building. He was posting updates every hour of what he saw from
his window.

The mainstream media is larger and more powerful, of course, than
amateurs with blogs, but like any large and powerful machine, it is
slow to turn. Bloggers are like quick zippy drones that can switch and
adapt quickly. That is why this sort of citizen journalism thrives in
moments of chaos. Such as the post election violence in Nairobi. While
the mainstream media focussed on the fighting in the streets and
villages, bloggers told us about the silent homes, supermarkets,
kiosks and bars; the mainstream media told us about thousand people
who died during those dark weeks and they are justly to be mourned,
but the Kenyan blogosphere also gave us an insight into the thoughts
of the hundreds of thousands more in Nairobi city who lived through
those weeks, and gave us a fuller picture of the situation.

But does this manoeuvrability mean that citizen journalism—blogs--will
ever replace the mainstream media? No matter how easy it is to be
excited about it, it is doubtful.

The mainstream media has a number of flaws. Being slow is one, but
being a business is another: Every media organisation that carries
adverts is compromised. The only question is to what extent. Plus,
competition in the open market means you have to pander to the
customers and give them what they want, even if it isn't necessarily
what they need. These media products also cost money in the cases of
newspapers and cable news, so they only inform those who can afford
it. It looks like tiny, independent, free blogs which are beholden to
no one, would be easily superior.

But for all its weaknesses, I still believe in the ideals of the free
press. I believe in its standards and its traditions and its methods.
I believe in impartiality, in full disclosure, in seeking both sides
of the story, in checking and cross checking and in training and
qualification. I even believe in the parts we don't like: I believe
bylines are not about ego- bylines are reporters staking their
reputation on their word. I believe in the photographer taking
pictures of the mob justice instead of trying to stop it. I believe in
putting the bad news on the front page before the good news. I believe
in all of it. Because when it works, when the principles are followed,
then it goes beyond just information being conveyed. A wonderful thing
happens: Truth is told.

But blogs don't have theses standards. They are not accountable to
anyone, not even themselves. With citizen journalism, you remove the
weaknesses of the traditional media, but you also remove its
strengths. Bloggers are notorious for spreading rumour and
half-truths, for being used by one party against another, for pushing
dark agendas. If you want examples of how the blogosphere can spread
falsehood and deceit, ask Barack Obama, who has suffered all campaign
long from smears and lies against him that spread from blog to blog.
Of course there are blogs that are run by responsible and competent
people, who uphold the principles of honourable newsgathering, but
dare we expect that these will change journalism in Uganda? Typically,
if anyone has the time, resources and skills to practice proper
journalism, that person already has a demanding full-time job
practicing proper journalism. The number of blogs started by Ugandan
reporters and editors that are only updated once in a months is
testament to the fact that the good stuff is still in the papers.
Meanwhile half-informed, conspiracy theorists and rumourmongers, and
even outright liars, continue to thrive under the pretext of
practicing citizen journalism.
And that underscores the difference between citizen journalism and
professional, dare I say, REAL journalism. Whereas bloggers can,
should and do write on their thoughts and views on whatever issue they
chose to take interest in, be it entertainment, lifestyle, religion,
business, technology or news, actual journalism is a calling and to
serve as a journalist you need to dedicate yourself. It will be a long
time before amateurs clicking away on their coffee breaks will be able
to usurp the position of the traditional professional media.
After all, I myself work at a newspaper, and even I find it hard to
get the time to do a post for my blog that can beat a published news
story in terms of information content!

This post is published on behalf of Ernest Bazanye, who (on top of being The World's Like Best Humourist) seems to have misplaced his password for getting into this here group blog.
~ The 27th Comrade

Neighbour

2008-09-07T10:17:00.000+03:00

In a world that is all honey sweet,

where does all the pain and rain fit in?

©GayUganda 05 Sept. 08

Brk’n English

2008-09-06T14:02:00.000+03:00

Nonsense, or non-sense verse?

See, it is not my language-

nor is it of my people, nor of my will,

that I had to ‘master’ it.

No, so I’ll take the liberty, and excuse of the foreigner;

So, what if I mangle it, in tense, accent, usage?

I am a foreigner, you see?!

I’ll strangle, throttle, mangle and murder it.

Just consider it, well, a privilege

if a sense of what I mean you gather;

but, dare not, upbraid me not-

for speaking a foreign tongue so well!

©GayUganda 01 Sept. 08

Devil’s Advocate

2008-09-04T22:41:00.004+03:00

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.

And I?

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 27^th. 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 27^th. I am no judge. But I think Princess can write. Though she is better in the dialogue with others, role playing. I think 27^th 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.

The others?

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 Uganda. And well, if you do not want my gayness in your face, no one is forcing you to read my posts! I do not beg you to do it. And if you do it and you have a problem with them, well, come and say so. Ha ha ha.

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.

GayUganda

Ugandan bloggers gone crazy

2008-09-02T01:07:00.003+03:00

I have broken my sulk.

You see, I used to post here. Then someone commented on my posts, and I went away in a sulk.

Now, sweet revenge. Someone has decided to comment on the blogloren in Uganda. And they are miffed. Here is the article.

Citizen journalists have taken the world by storm providing an alternative source of information on their blog, but Ugandan bloggers are not standing up to be counted, writes Dennis D. Muhumuza

On the evening of July 31, a short woman in blue compact jeans chased a beefy man around a bar table as she mirthfully pleaded to have her phone back. Patrons raised their eyes from their drinks and watched on mystified, wondering if this “run-and-catch” was part of the entertainment menu.

The players were members of the Ugandan blogging community who had just gathered at the Turkish restaurant, Effendys, with the rest of the inner circle for their monthly meet-ups – what they call the “Happy Hour”.

Before arriving here an hour or thereabouts, a debate had raged between two bloggers and a visiting American: Are all Ugandan bloggers okay with taking their meetings to a bar? And what’s the whole essence of having a Happy Hour? Is it just to celebrate life by drinking expensive coffee and beer, fraternising, raising money for an orphanage or engaging intellectually say on the rising food prices?

With Michael Jackson’s Thriller playing in the background, Thomas Smyth literally shouted his order, for that was the only way the waitress was going to hear. That’s about when the two adults pursued themselves around tables. It was the beginning of a shocking evening for the American.

Soon, girls were eyeing him surreptitiously and whispering (possibly about his towering height) and taking pictures with their phones. Thomas Smyth gulped his drink and left the Happy Hour prematurely. He had come with a hypothesis: That this community of erudite bloggers was going to transform the Ugandan society but a few minutes with them and he began to doubt.

He didn’t know that a clever Ugandan blogger, S.A.G.E, had in August 2007 summed the Ugandan blogging scenario as “the theatre of the absurd” for which he incurred the wrath of the “blogren.” Blogger Savage had called him “a waste of space on earth and a disgrace to the entire human population” and insulted his parents saying they would have done the “world a huge favour had they decided to have a good night’s sleep instead of engaging in hanky panky the night” S.A.G.E was “conceived.”

Ironically, Savage’s attack of S.A.G.E drew a backlash as equally inane. One blogger Keitetsi said Savage sounded like “a menopausal goose” and that if his comments were “on paper, it would be the kind of stuff people in jail use to wipe their butts.”

As drama ensued, the personalities of many Ugandan bloggers were exposed to a level where the discerning would no longer find it confounding that a woman would for example upload a picture of her g-string on her blog and ask if the readers like it.

A June 30 blog entry boldly titled “Boobs!” by Ugandan blogger Carlo, contained four pictures of women’s cleavage. Her blog soon jammed with comments from men and women begging with desperation to know to whom the ample busts belonged – Carlo’s or her sisters. Only a few wondered if she was crazy to flash such erotica.

“My blog is called Carlo’s for a reason; it’s all about me, so I put up what I want,” she defended herself. “I put them [cleavage] there to attract attention as a light-hearted beginning of a week so we’re not totally focused on serious issues but can laugh sometimes and be ridiculous, you get?”

While it’s true it’s the blogger’s prerogative to fill their blogs with whatever material, those creating blogs are prompted to restrict their sites to invited readers or to put a disclaimer that the blog contains adult content.

From S.A.G.E’s understanding, bloggers are supposed to update their lives and voice their opinions on things they strongly feel about to provoke intellectually stimulating debate.

“But in Uganda, it’s more of who’s more dirty,” he says. “They are not going to be interested if you don’t tickle the bad boy and the bad girl in them; so girls talk about the first time they lost their virginity in the shower room, and boys about how sweet sex in the morgue is and everyone cheers and their egos are massaged. Their superficiality comes to the surface as they smite those that would rather tell them the truth than hype them.”

Journalist Rodney Muhumuza agrees. “We don’t seem to have a lot of reported blogs in Uganda, which is very disappointing. In America, bloggers investigate and conduct interviews to scoop The New York Times but most Ugandan bloggers that I know care about life at its most basic,” said Muhumuza, who writes The Kampala Review blog. “It’s more often about sex, sex and more sex. It’s hardly the stuff that will inspire a sober mind.”

Could it be that they know they write banality that they hide under pseudonyms? Rather than heroes, you meet unrepentant cynics and provocateurs that spend a bulk of their time venting, fantasising and gibbering about trivialities with unflagging devotion.

Writing about life in the Internet age, David Kaiza dramatically captured this in the June 30-July 6 issue of The EastAfrican by noting, “The culture (of blogging) puffs out like a hot air balloon; directionless and pointless.”

It is this lack of focus that has left Ugandan journalist and blogger Benon Herbert Oluka disappointed: “I would expect people to use their blogs to give more insight into everyday happenings because I tend to get hooked to thought-provoking articles than someone whose blog is about where they hang out last night and blah, blah, blah.”

One of the most popular and respected Ugandan bloggers, 27th Comrade, thinks many Ugandan bloggers are “simply not interested in serious discourse; it’s not a bad thing; it’s just different.”

Flipping the other side of the coin, there are also purpose-driven bloggers, however few, that command the respect of the intelligent and educated alike. Tumwijuke of the Ugandan Insomniac blog is for example loved for her ability to “poke the social conscience of people”.

Writing with zing and flair, she has almost single-handedly cracked into the dominance of traditional media by arousing discussion on issues of national and global importance, for which she was in February this year voted Uganda’s best blogger by fellow “blogren”. For some however, the uniqueness of blogs is the greatest thing to happen online.

“Bloggers don’t have to follow conventional rules like the newspapers and that’s what I love most,” says Jared Ombui an avid reader of blogs. “Writing for them is a heart thing and often you find closet stories; the kind you will never see in our newspapers. I love that they are usually short and funny and also the comments from readers are hilarious.”

For blogger Denda, it’s the spirit of comradeship that he loves about blogging. “It’s like neighbours checking on each other,” he said. “I knock on your blog anytime and find out what’s going on in your ‘house’. During the Happy Hour we share ideas and swap books and meet some of the bloggers we love to read –that’s the whole beauty about blogging.”

It’s a positive sign especially in this era where blogs are increasingly being seen as points of reference. Already, there is a heated debate on the Internet that they will soon replace mainstream media which shows the power blogs possess.

Still, if the world’s best comic-strip artist was to invent something that best depicts the Ugandan blogging experience as whole, it would not be the kind patriots would like. It’s only after we have revolutionised the way we think and blog that people like Thomas Smyth will not leave the Happy Hour with inhibitions.

Apparently, I am too insignificant to be commented on.

Funny, being a gay Ugandan, I thought I deserved a little bit of mention, given the ire with which the other bloggers are lacerated and dissected.

Maybe I survived that microscopical examination because I am gay. But I do have a feeling that it is because of the 'gay' in the GayUganda that I missed out on the, er, verbal dissection!

If it was, well, COWARD! But it might have been the 'editor'. Should I cry more shameful 'coward'?????

Sorry for being so off topic. Next time I post, I will try to be more relevant.

For those who were praised, good for you. For those who were not, my commisseration. For me, I do not exist, so, I will be happy with my invisibility.

Princess tells me that the bloglorens response and comments are hillarious. they are! Including mine!!!!

gug

Uganda Barcamp Event a Big Success

2008-08-31T10:31:00.002+03:00

^{Welcome to Barcamp}

This past weekend, Makerere University's Faculty of Computing and IT allowed the first ever barcamp event to take place on it's campus. As a result nearly eighty people participated in the first ever open forum for technology professionals and enthusiasts in Uganda. It was liveblogged on the micro-blogging service Twitter to an international audience that included twenty people, including several from Silicon Valley (Paulo Alto, Ca, U.S.A) who asked questions to the audience and had them answered in real time.

What is a barcamp? That question came up quite often through out the conference. Barcamps are ad-hoc unconference events that put everyone attending on the same level. Novices, professionals, students, CEOs, they're all one audience giving insight and perspective to various debates. The presenters all volunteer, discussions are largely democratic and the ebb-flow of the debate often leads to the structure of the overall event. For instance, the questions from Silicon Valley that came in during the conference were responded to immediately.

Joseph Mucheru from Google East Africa provided insight into the East African Venture Capital scene growing in Nairobi. Other industry insiders attended including James Wire who made an strong argument about the ethics of software use and obeying international copyright laws. Renier Battenburg, the president of MountBatten Web Hosting, did a presentation on optimizing websites for low-bandwidth users. Simon Vass of eTech presented on the functionality of eBox, an affordable Linux-based network solution.

^{James Wire asks a question.}

At the beginning of the conference the floor was opened up to the attendees. They were given the opportunity to state their interests and expectations from the conference. The organizers of barcamp attempted to address each concern. More often than not, someone else in the audience had an answer. That's the spirit of the event, leveraging the assets of your peers.

In full disclosure, I was one of the main organizers of the event. I founded a small group called Appfrica.org that organizes events like this for the benefit of software entrepreneurs in Uganda. Upcoming events include a Facebook Developers Clinic and a Mobile Application Workshop. But what the Kampala barcamp highlighted for me was the wealth of un-nurtured talent here. Many of the more advanced students are already looking at schools abroad because for those thatstay (even the best), the job market is bleak. Quite a few students are eager to learn the bleeding edge development tools and programming languages but no one facilitates them. How do they work on projects after University hours? How can they take personal initiative to create things on their own if they don't have access to the tools to do so? At the very least, hopefully this barcamp will encourage the spirit of collaboration in the Ugandan tech community that is essential to helping markets grow.

Slides, photos, video, and notes from Campala2008 can be viewed at http://wiki.appfrica.net

Citizen Media and ICT in Uganda

2008-07-29T15:00:00.001+03:00

After I had received a bunch of inquires from people around the globe about Citizen Media in Uganda, I thought it best that I start a list of all the people I know who are or may be interested in such things. I don't want to be the only one speaking about the topic since one principle of Citizen Media, as I understand it, is that many people should be able to participate in a dialogue.

I have no aims or objectives for this group other than the idea that if a bunch of people had a better forum to discuss things and get things started, then maybe more things will be discussed and more things will be started.

So, let the dialogue begin! Email me at glennagordon [at] gmail dot com for more information.

My very first Google Group: Citizen Media and ICT in Uganda.

BHH

2008-06-23T12:09:00.002+03:00

The Bloggers' Happy Hour, this time round, is on Thursday 26th June at Mateos. 6.30pm.

Do be there.

"Such a limitation is not demonstrably justified in a free and democratic country like ours"

2008-05-28T08:13:00.004+03:00

Just so nobody pretends we didn't see this, I'm putting it in a long link.

The Constitutional Court yesterday nullified a law that made it mandatory for Ugandans to seek written permission from the Inspector General of Police before holding an assembly or forming a procession in any public place.

Voilà! Read the story in its entirety at the Monitor. Basically, we can expect more demonstrations, now.
The only real trouble, now, is that there may be too many impromptu demos that have the easy capacity to turn into bad things. Since Police will not know about which demos are going to be where, any case of distracting public peace can be passed off, when prompted, as a demonstration.
I'm hoping this won't happen, hoping that we will be responsible with the power to demonstrate as soon as the urge hits by not demonstrating whenever any urge hits. But if it does happen, I guess we would slide back to requiring the state to be notified, which will have been a failure of this particular freedom; an experiment that didn't work.

I like the judge's words: "Such a limitation is not demonstrably justified in a free and democratic country like ours, therefore that provision of the Police Act is null and void."
Cool. Now, friends, let that closeted anarchist within you fly! Get on the street and demonstrate against something! :o) Kidding. Notify me first, okay?

Book Club - TUESDAY, 27 MAY (ie, tomorrow)

2008-05-26T16:28:00.001+03:00

The long awaited book club arrives.

The onus is on me to pick the location, I guess, and I was thinking Iguana, but that's so not central. So I have to fall back on the default Mateo's. We can discuss a different place for next time....

Tuesday, 27 May, at 7 pm, at Mateo's

Come. Invite friends. Bring books.

I'm guessing there will be a blogger or two there, since the only way this has been discussed is via blog, so maybe we can also talk about meeting during a different part of the month next time, not so close to BHH. (I'll miss it, again, next month. Is the media establishment at large conspiring to make me constantly go up country on assignment during BHH?)

27th Comrade - this is on the day of the month dedicated to you. I think this means you should come.

Blogger's Happy Hour

2008-05-26T13:07:00.005+03:00

It is upon us again, another BHH.

Date: 29th May

Place: Mateos (we really need to find a new hangout)

Time: 6.30pm

See y'all there.

Nagenda Art School Opening

2008-05-23T16:25:00.000+03:00

Just wanted to plug an event taking place this weekend...

La Fontaine, Kisementi, Saturday, 24 May

Nagenda

This one-night-only event will act as a fund raising event to help Nagenda International Academy of Art and Design (www.nagenda.org) open its doors in September 2008. Our featured artist is Kizito Maria Kasule, Makerere University Professor and Founding Director of NIAAD.

NIAAD will be the first of its kind in East Africa! Slated for official opening in September 2008, NIAAD will be a self-sustaining institution where local and international artists will hone their creative and entrepreneurial skills. Located on the edge of Lake Victoria, NIAAD will provide a lush backdrop for students, instructors and volunteers to gather at a top-notch facility. Artists will be inspired to promote local arts and crafts techniques; learn cutting edge design technology and encourage one another through a network of alumnae and international artists. NIAAD is a fully registered community-based organization within Ssisa sub-county Wakiso District in Central Uganda.

NIAAD's mission is to establish a continuous and self-sustaining center where mediums of artistic expression will be learned and appreciated. Their objectives include:

1) to establish a local and international arts training center for people of Uganda and beyond;

2) to preserve, promote and utilize indigenous art and craft skills through training and research, fostering a sense of community pride and shared history;

3) to create employment in the arts by training school dropouts, orphans and other disadvantaged people;

4) to provide art training in a high-caliber academy setting to students whose primary and secondary schools cannot employ art teachers;

5) to provide and equip ordinary people with art and designing entrepreneurship skills which they can use to market their art and craft products.

NIAAD will not open its doors without the help of art lovers like you! Please join us for this special event and schedule your tour of the NIAAD center with us!

Book Club

2008-05-16T12:01:00.001+03:00

But, I promised a book club/book swap, and I intend to keep that promise. I propose:

Tuesday, May 27, at 7 pm, location TBA

We will all bring a book, and then swap. We can discuss the possibility of all reading the same text for subsequent meetings. If you've already told me you want to attend, then I have you on a list. If you are hearing about this for the first time or suddenly have the desire to part with an Aristoc purchase, feel free to let me know and I'll add you to the list.

The Bathroom Scale Beggars

2008-04-22T11:13:00.000+03:00

Mateo’s bar, in the middle of Kampala. Usually after 9pm, onto past midnight, that is when you will see them. Kids, boys, age range ten to early teens. Each with a bathroom scale, accosting the customers on the roadside bar.

Ostensibly, they are providing a service. They ask whether you want your weight taken. If you do, they put down the scale, and you step on it, and in return give them a coin. 100 Uganda shillings (about a twentieth of a USD) is their prize.

In fact they are begging.

The crowd is affluent. Mateo’s is mid to upper class. A popular hangout. Doesn’t hurt that it is on Parliamentary Avenue, in the middle of town, and that it spills out its clientele on the roadside, with the new Chogm lights giving the place a kind of open door ambience. Drive in, with cars carelessly packed on the street, lining it. Turning it from the hectic business district that it is during the day, to a hangout. Popular and populated.

So they take advantage of it.

Or rather, their parents take advantage of it. A well dressed crowd pouring out money on drink. Here comes a kid, scruffy, armed with a bathroom scale, and asking to weigh you. They are persistent. You look down, and there he is, by your side, cutely looking up in your face, thrusting the bathroom scale at you.

‘Want to know your weight?’

Of course we are all soft hearted towards kids. Some will look away, and the kid will take the hint. Some will look in surprise, brush him off with a coin, or, intrigued, he or she would discover that they do want to know their weight there, right then, on a Saturday evening when they were out chilling. And of course, if one does, why not the whole group? The kid smiles, and rakes in the loot. Ladies, they do look put out if they don’t get to know their weight at that particular moment. Make sure the poor kid goes home with at least a coin in hand. And there are others who just give them the money, without the excuse of knowing their weight.

Life is full of challenges.

I wonder what would make me send out my child to beg? What kind of necessity, but a desperation that I have yet to really understand.

The bathroom scale beggars are fairly well off. The families of women and children that man the streets downtown during the day and early evening are more chilling. They line the streets, at a regular 5 meters or so. Children, 2, 4, 6 years of age. Clearly a family. Ragged clothes, the older girls babysitting a toddler, and the mother, somewhere within the vicinity. A suckling infant in her arms. Where are the men? Bad question.

The bouncers (security) at Mateos know the kids. And they play a game of hide and seek, cat and mouse with them. When they are busy, the kids slip in, under the rope, to get to the customers tables. When the bouncers realize that they are there, they take a few steps towards them, and the children disappear- as quickly and silently as they appeared.

The more regular customers kind of brush them off. Too common a sight, they are invisible with the familiarity of the common. But they will usually manage to get a few coins. Which reminds me of Sherlock Holmes’ beggar. Begging is a lucrative profession, if you can but manage to do it.

Err, bloggers are having their monthly bloggers hour. At Mateos at a very unfashionable hour. Thursday at 6 pm! You guys are just nerds or what? I can understand Princess being reluctant to take the alcohol laden breaths at other times, but 27^th? Revolutions are made in dinky, smoke wreathed rooms, with lots of alcohol.

I cant promise that I will be there, or not, but mind reserving a chair for me, 27^th?

GayUganda

BHH

2008-04-19T15:21:00.002+03:00

It's time, once again, for another BHH. This time it is at Mateos on the 24th of April, that is this Thursday. Be there.

Life is life

2008-04-05T17:47:00.001+03:00

Life is life, life’s no politics

But a strange, pulsing bloom

Whose mysteries a lifetime unsolved are;

Nor can they be by one pair of eyes,

One mind be known.

Life’s a liquid bird note call,

The scent of orchid in bloom,

A mysterious night flower unfolding,

A dream with beginning and end-

Going trillion miles between.

Life’s a living moving river

An ocean caught up in wind,

Life’s the soft sunlight in the morning

The blaze of noonday heat,

The dusk with bird and bat call,

Moonscape with stars twinkling aloft;

Life’s a wondrous open dream,

That I will dare to dream this day.

© GayUganda 05 April 2008

Its a Rainy Day!

2008-03-27T13:06:00.002+03:00

It is raining outside. And I am warm and cozy inside.

I wish, I would- translate the beauty of the rain, to living dew on the page. Living, because it is life giving, and not but life can give birth to life. The city is bathed in rain.

Yes, it is not such a blessing to those who are in the valleys. Because the water is in the houses, and they cannot go out to play, nor stay in to sleep. Kampala is a city of hills and valleys. And when it rains, the valleys flood, and water everywhere is a sheet unbroken, flooding the ground.

I have lived in this city for most of my short life.
Yet there are some things which I am yet to see. Like the misery of the plain slums, not those of the heights of Naguru. But I have heard of the rumors, of rain and sun that makes this paradise a hell for some.

Money. Life’s apparent oil.

Yet, to think of it, us privileged few are not as adapted as those who have to sludge it out day after day. In mines, in poverty, in rain and sun, in the cold when it snows and when it rains with no shelter. Harder life than mine, but they have survived it.

Papers. Took a flat 2 minutes to pass through the New Vision.

No news, is good news? 30 something pages of soon to be toilet paper.

Maybe it would have been better not to come to work. The cold is too much, my nose overbearing, heavy, blocked. Cant work much. Cant stop looking out at the rain and cars and traffic and people. A sumptuous feast of eye candy.

The Cartoon? Its from the Monitor newspaper. The caption says, “Almost daily, humans and Marabou Storks fight for fish leftovers dumped at Kasenyi landing site in Entebbe, probably for food.” Would it be more amusing if it was not true? I doubt it. That is real life, unencumbered by the many ideals which we want to load it with.

GayUganda

Is Night

2008-03-22T18:04:00.000+03:00

Is night, and I am beautiful-

graced with all the beauty

the alcohol suffusing your veins

can credit me with.

Come morning,

the alcohol burnt off-

all my blemishes seen,

morning breath on my kiss;

will you love me the same

Oh love of the moment?

©GayUganda

For some reason this reminds me of Iwaya. I penned it in a bar.

Museveni and Gaddafi

2008-03-21T10:08:00.002+03:00

Life is not without its very light moments. M7 and Gaddafi, our dear leaders.

Think two bulls in a kraal.

Bulls are animals, (like humans). They are polite. They tend not to invade each others private spaces.

Two bulls in a kraal is an entertainment.

Firsts. Make sure that the fence between you and the bulls is strong enough. Or perch somewhere out of reach. Or, make sure that you can take off like the proverbial wind.Bulls are polite. They will announce their intention.

Paw the ground repeatedly. Trumpet their challenge to the world, and turn to face each other. Then each will go back to the end of the enclosure, paw the ground, and charge. The joust.
We humans are less polite, and more intelligent.

We don’t go in for jousts between the bulls. Underlings do the physical scuffling, while we look on- in approval?

Two huge egos meeting. Inevitable that they should clash, and they did. On, what else but, who is bigger than the other? Who takes the precedence!

And of course they fight. Forgive me. Proxies fight it out. 3 or 4 times during Gaddafi's visit, the respective personal bodyguards fought it out in very public view. I mean fists, and throws, and slaps, and pulling the clothes, with the press taking photos. I swear it is true. Just read this Monitor article.

Now, to crown the visit of this leading politician on the African continent, he took a swipe at the Scandinavians, (printing Mohammed Cartoons), the Arabs (monopolizing the Kaaba in Mecca), and his Christian hosts (falsifying the Bible to remove mention of Mohammed). His host is a nominal Christian, and he was seated in the congregation, listening to the sermon, the Gospel according to Brother Gaddafi.

To shorten the story, he went off in an apparent pique. Guess he will not be soon invited back. And if he is, he may not give his royal assent.

Sigh, aren’t we relieved!!

GayUganda

The Obama Speech

2008-03-19T08:58:00.000+03:00

I am at home. Just finished dinner. A great meal. He cooks very well indeed. Very well.

I have not been so into politics, the great live show happening in America for some time. Afraid I do have a short attention span. Bored by things which go on for a long time. And this endless election cycle has simply worn me down. There are some more interesting things.

Like Castro leaving office!

Anyway, I have been shaken out of my lethargy. Obama has given a speech, and of a sudden, I am listening to a politician.

I cannot bear speeches. Most political speeches bore the hell out of me. I try my level best not to listen to them, even when my friend is glued to the TV because the president is speaking. I hate them, with a passion.

I have read Obama’s speech, from beginning to end.

Why?

I guess because it is not just a speech. He does not speak like a politician.

He has reminded me. Long time ago, a very long time ago, my idea of perfect idealism was the great romantic story of the American revolution. I believed, with a fervor that was at once uncritical, and complete. Sigh. Youth and innocence seems such a long time ago!

Anyway, I grew up, and disillusioned.

The Iraq war happened, Gulf 1, and then 2…

I have listened to snippets of Bush, the 43^rd.

I have tried my best to avoid all those of M7. They are profoundly sedative in delivery.

I do remember I was spell bound, for all of 2 minutes by Blair…

Guess that is the full extent of my ‘experience’ in speeches.

The Obama speech? Is it a politician speaking, or is this a normal person? Politicians are not normal. They live in never-never land, where problems are solved by the politician being elected to office.

I guess one has to read it in full by ones self. Yeah, it is a great speech. The understatement of the evening. Why is this guy running as a politician? He could be elected a deity by popular acclaim. Well, the Dalai Lama is threatening to ‘resign’. Maybe there will be a vacancy awaiting him soon…

GayUganda

Close as Death is...

2008-03-16T19:31:00.002+03:00

Kampala, as lazy and dull as usual, meaning the morning was crisp and cold, with rain in the night, and it threatened to rain till noon. Now, past noon, inching to evening, the strength of the sun is unquestioned, the overcast is thinner, and it is warm and humid.

We have been having snarling traffic jams. ‘taxi’ fares jumped, as did those of the boda-boda motorbike taxis. The reason for the jams is fairly simple. The city council woke up and decided that a number of roads needed repair. So they are closed for repair.Apparently, all those roads seem to be around the New Mosque, so it was not a surprise for me to learn that Col. Gaddafi of Libya is expected in the country. We only repair the roads when we get a visitor. The last time it was the queen, that was less than 6 months ago, and we had a major do over. We don’t respect Gaddafi that much, so it is only around the mosque that we have done some work. Apparently, he is to visit and dedicate the Gaddafi National Mosque.

Lovers’ tiff yesterday. Went out together and I came back mad. Mad enough to sleep in the guestroom. But in the wee hours, found that the anger could no longer warm me. So I crept back to my side of the bed.

Heard the song ‘Double Bed Mazongoto’? ‘Doctor’ someone or other, one of our irascible local artists. Well, I did discover in practice that sleeping together, the reasons for anger seem to vaporize. So woke up late in the morning, wrapped up round him, very thankful for another Sunday morning in bed, with nothing on schedule. Nothing but a lazy morning, and to dream in the warmth of my lover. Perfect way to begin the day, the week.

Have been having an interesting experience of my extended family.

Have an uncle. This is where the inelasticity of the English language fails me. Father’s brother, so an uncle, but very different from mother’s brother, because he is more than an ‘uncle’. He is my father, and I am a son.

Guy is terminally ill. Knew about it when he was in the village, back where my father came from long before my birth. They were born 2 boys, and a gargle of girls. Males are ‘important’, in our patriarchal society. But this uncle was the ‘black sheep’ of the family.

Anyway, the guy is sick. Terminally ill.

He was a player in his youth, one of his black marks. Fathered more than 23 children (that I know of), but many are alienated. Lives with his nth wife at the moment. Lost count when it became impossible to know who was who.

So, when he is sick and dying, his family alienated and run off, he falls back to his extended family. Which means his brother, and his brothers children, us. And the beauty of family- it does deliver.

He doesn’t look very good. Fact is he is very ill looking. But coherent, and still alert to the best deal. He is reconciled to the fact of dying. Something which the rest of the relatives are yet to deal with. One can feel the shock when another first lays eyes on him. They are literally speechless, coming face to face with one about to die, and looks it. Personally, I think, for the close companionship that death is in our lives, we are very naïve in the way we think about it, traditionally. But all communities have their own coping methods.

He is sick, and dying, and knows it. He has fallen back to his extended family, and they surround him. Reconciled to death’s appointment, he can even afford to crack morbid jokes, alarming and embarrassing the relatives who are distraught and fearful.

But he is ready, and I hope when mine comes, I am as ready! Morbid thought, on a beautiful evening.

The sun is setting just about now. Hidden behind a hill from my view. But it will be light for at least another 30 minutes . Dawn and dusk, daily times of change, beautiful when one has the luxury to sit down and appreciate them.

Have a beautiful evening, and may the week be good to you.

GayUganda

Sunshine

2008-03-12T12:07:00.001+03:00

A dusting of sunshine on the street.

Don’t know whether there is any other way to put it. But a dusting. Or a mite more than a dusting.

Certainly it is a stronger sunshine than that in colder lands, but here, it holds promise of a blazing hot afternoon. The kind for one to throw off confining clothes and work, skin breathing and glistening with sweat, in full freedom.

Writing that, you can imagine my envy of a person who can do that. I am in the confines of an ‘office’. A prisoner till the end of the shift. All starched up and proper, deferential and smart. Ugh! Whereas I would have the freedom of my time, the needs of the body demand otherwise.My jailer has given me a great view of the city outside. So I can work, longing for the freedom of the street.

Yesterday I was walking through my valley. I fell in love again. With beauty.

There is so much beauty in the day to day things which we fail to see. I certainly fail to see it.My memory of these places, when I was walking from school, hot, tired, bothered, hungry, mind focused on getting home and some food into the stomach. I never bothered to look and see. So it is in the morning.

Rush hour we call it. Always rushed. Little time to stop and laze going to work. Letting the business of busy flow about us a cataract turbulence that bothers us not. I tried that today, coming in to work. Left home earlier than usual. Came walking the first kilometer. Relaxed, watching the rest of humanity rush by to school and work and the myriad other things that make people rush in the morning.

I found myself relaxed and good tempered, though I knew I am in for a long day. Doesn’t matter, I can still enjoy it. Freedom is of the mind, and here, on the blog, I have the freedom of cyber.

Listening to the news this morning, I realized that the land wars are becoming heated. We are a fractured society, and the deepest cracks are according to our ethnicity. The wounds are glaring open, wide, and the leaders are steadily ferrying us to the cliff.
God help Uganda.

I am worried, but I may not be able to do anything.

The people who can do something are not talking, and venom comes out when they breath. And a military man is threatening force, the usual ‘solution’ which incenses others. And others are looking on, not likely to step in between these raging elephants. Uganda, after a few years of ethnic peace, is tittering on the verge of rupture. At least that is what I see, but my leaders? Well, the ego is a wonderful thing.

Wish I could get the beloved leader by the ears and shake his bald head a bit. When a general in the army threatens military intervention in the parliament- something is going wrong.

Oh well, life will continue. Hopefully, sense will return to us. The probability of that is low.

So, I will continue looking out the window at the sun, which has now strengthened and is well into midday heat. The afternoon will be sizzling. Yes, it will be.

GayUganda

A Lazy Morning

2008-03-04T10:03:00.000+03:00

I woke up, with the distinct feeling that it was not time to get out of bed.

The sun was up, my valley in the shadows of the hills surrounding it, but cool and wrapped in morning sun on the leaves.

Beauty. It is a perception, in the eye of the beholder.

My spirits have soared with the promise of a day of sun.

We live in a global village. Yesterday, I decided to take a walk round my valley. Shocked me to realise that it has been years since I explored it. Typical urbanite. I wake up and work, go to work, or play, or go out- without knowing what is happening in my neighbourhood. Its too close for me to see. Like a huge bolder perched on my nose.

I walked the roads. Thick red dust, each footfall followed by a small dust-storm. Sun was brilliant hot. Yet not uncomfortable. Kampala’s equable weather.

I took the paths I had not taken since I was a child, and found that I have been living blind. The places where we used to hunt for mangoes, the open spaces where we used to play hide and seek- (not true, where we used to go digging), they are gone. There are houses everywhere. Even where I did not expect them to be.

The city has sprawled out, eating into the trees, which are now the orphans. I think I am just lucky to still live in the garden of trees. Or maybe I am not. Even where the houses are piled up together on the hillsides, the trees are still hanging on.

Kampala is bulging at the seems. Wrong, she bulged and spilled over in tangible waves of humanity.

The people are poor. But the children still play and laugh, unrestrained. There is evidence of cottage industries at every road junction.

My wanderings led me home- where I grew up. Maama was not around, but the old place was as usual. And I remembered to pack my bag full of avocado fresh from the tree. My lover loves it.

Our world is a global village- had not realised how crowded it had become.

Of the papers, the red rug seems convinced that the end of the world is near. Means there is no juicy scandal. The EastAfrican is a weekly, so it presents history instead of news. How Kikwete of Tanzania managed to breakthrough the deadlock in Kenya. I dislike political spin. Museveni stepped on his toes congratulating Kibaki, and then intimated he acted as a peace broker. No, what I dislike is someone trying to insult my intelligence with political spin.

Speaking of politics, Hillary is throwing the kitchen sink at Obama. I am glad to know that stupidity is not the reserve of our African leaders. So, she is tearing the party apart, in the name of winning. She is a throwback to our politicians. If it had been in Uganda, Obama would be in prison. Imagine, an upstart against a former First Lady!

The land wars are ongoing. The Kabaka vs the President. I really love logic. It seems to sort through stupidity very quickly. But logic is a perception. So, it is a matter of fact that what I think is logical to me, the Kabaka and President may think it is stupidity.

Oh well, life continues.

I can rail at all that is wrong with my world, and forget the things that are right with it.

My thanks to all of you who have commented on the matter of faith and the gay Ugandan. Truth to say, I was not aware that I was so worried. Concerned.

Maybe I should have trusted my lover more- but again, is there any logic in religion?

He could not sleep last night. Worried about a business deal. I held him in my hands, just happy that I was with him.

Life is quirky, not easy. I was worried about the religion thing, because it strikes at the heart of our relationship. (Yeah, had a lover who told me that it was a sin to make love. I felt like I was a piece of dung at that moment. Degraded. Why should my love be a sin?) My lover was not so worried. He is more concerned about the more practical things of bread and butter and food on the table.

It is a beautiful, brilliant hot day out, and I am grateful for that.

GayUganda

UBOB Awards

2008-02-29T19:59:00.012+03:00

** You might have to click on the results to be able to view them clearly.

The Uganda Bloggers' Society is proud to announce this year's winners of the annual Uganda Best of Blog Awards.

Here to present the first category is ((drum roll)) ............. Me

Me: The award for Best Photography goes to Ugandan Insomniac for Arbitrary Beauty II.

And here to present the award for the category of Best Design is...... Me again.

Me: The Uganda Best Of Blog Award for Best Design goes to Citizen Uganda.

And to present the award for Best Writing is ((drum roll))........ my alter ego, Me v.2

Me v.2: The winner, no I mean the person taking the award because every one is a winner, is I Am Ernest Bazanye.

To present the award for Best Overseas Blog is my accented self, Mrrrre

Mrrrre: The awarrrd forrr Brrrest Orrrverseas Blorrrg goerrrs torrr Returrrn orrrf thrrre Phoerrrnix.

I am back to present the award for the category of Best Blog in Uganda which goes to Ugandan Insomniac.

I am tired of the formality now so the Best Post went to Ugandan Insomniac for Dilemma of a Gorgeous 30 Something.

And now for the big one and it might be surprising to some but there was a tie. The Uganda Blog(s) of the Year are Ugandan Insomniac and I Am Ernest Bazanye.

And that my friends was the ceremony we all wait for with bated breath every year. Go out there, write stuff and be nominated next year.

Now over to you Baz for the awards after the awards that make the awards look like they shouldn't have been awards to begin with.

** The winners will all receive a text widget to put up on their blogs. I will send you each mail using the addresses you have up on your blogs. Hope they are the right ones.

BHH Feb 08

2008-02-25T13:27:00.004+03:00

It is time once again for Uganda Bloggers Happy Hour. If you can
remember, when I put up the announcement for last month's BHH I mentioned that February's BHH would be on 28th Feb 2008. Same place, same time. Mateos at 6.30. On the agenda is discussing switching the day we meet and the place. I have had a few people say to me we should think of different things if only to make it more interesting. I can't wait to hear from y'all what y'all think.

Also, of course, the winners of the Uganda Best Of Blogs will be announced. I will tell you now that it is a very close one for most of the categories but you will have to wait till Thursday to find out. Winners will be presented with a virtual award you can put on your blog for all your visitors to know just how accomplished you and your blog really are. It is basically just a text widget but it looks cool, we have Ivan to thank for that.

See y'all Thursday. I personally can't wait. (A round on me, [not really])

Poem on my Mind

2008-02-24T10:54:00.000+03:00

Woke late, a poem on my mind.

Sunday morning. That means late out of bed, and even when it is as beautiful as it is today, still I was late out of bed. Spent some days not getting up with the sun. Bad habit- that of missing the dawn. Some of the best thinking seems to come with the change of night to light.

But Sunday morning has to be in bed. Obvious reasons.

Yes, it was a late night. No, I did not attend the UB40 show.

Was at Mateo’s a good part of the evening.

Mateo’s. It is a favourite for quite a number of people. The football, the crowd, the noise and music, the packing. And the feeling of freedom under the expanse of sky. I think part of the reason the city crowd likes it is the fact that it is not too open. Yes, the bar spills over to the sidewalk and beyond, but then it is like the whole street becomes an extension of the place. With the tall buildings a ‘wall’, confining the view in the distance. I was struck by the way that the deep brown bulk of ‘UCB’ building (Cham Towers) seems to fade into the black blue of the sky. Maybe it is my eyes, but it was a striking sight- the sense of a mammoth building blending into the dark of the night. A bulk barely noticed, more noticed than visible.

The papers?

They are there usual depressive selves.

Why do the stories of the rampart corruption depress? Because they are reported day to day, and everyone knows that nothing will be done about them. Even the most blantant, barefaced, stealing. As long as it is the government that loses.

Check out these headlines in the Monitor. Govt paid Asians twice for properties; Finance pins hopes on police in pay scam. The New Vision is …

One good thing, the rebels in the north have signed a permanent cease fire. What is not so good about it- it is apparently the fourth time that they have signed such a deal. We will wait and see.

Yesterday, at Mateos, was looking at a kid, boy about 10-11 years, lugging round a bathroom scale. He puts it on the ground and whosoever wants steps on it. Payment 100 Uganda shillings per person. About 0.05 USD. (Sorry, I don’t know your ‘cent’ system. Only metric…)

Not the usual street urchin, dirty clothes and all. The clothes were a bit smart, casual like. Shoes on his feet, school socks. Most likely a school going kid who has to work for the family’s needs. Time check, inching to midnight, Saturday.

Yeah, life is rough. I was struck by the thought that my pity is useless to the boy. Yes, some of the guys and girls were definitely cheating him. Not giving him the money, and he was having to beg for it. The whole thing is thinly disguised begging. But remember that the kid is, at that particular moment, surviving. Doing what he can for his family, aiding in the survival game that is so central to life’s continuance. Thinking of that, I found myself saluting him. I did work as a child, true. But I am proud to remember that I did contribute to the survival of my family.

Yes of course, the street urchin’s chances and risks are not optimal. I would like to improve them. I cannot. But I cannot just cripple him with my pity. The strength which he has found to do something to survive is laudable. And instead of pity, I should be happy for him.

Not condescending happy. But acknowledge the fact that, he is a child, in worse conditions than I am, and surviving.

So, the day being so beautiful, I will enjoy it.

Be well, and smile, it is a beautiful day out.

GayUganda

When's The Next Hour?

2008-02-21T19:13:00.001+03:00

When are we having the next Uganda Bloggers' Happy Hour? I can't seem to find any links on it anywhere. Even though I am fairly certain I am the only one who doesn't know. :o)

Tell I in the comments, s'il vous plaît. (And someone set it, if it is not set.)

Kampala Beauties

2008-02-16T09:51:00.000+03:00

I must confess today I was feeling lazy. Not want to get out of bed.

But there was the added incentive. His warm body besides me.

Nothing like waking up in the morning, feeling new, and happy with love. I held him in my hands, loving him.

It wasn’t enough.

Slid onto him, hugging, skin to skin, feeling the thud of our twin hearts. Together.

I marvelled at how come it is that I still love him, love him so much, this long since we first met. Its like I would pull him close into my very skin, wrap my heart or let it kiss his, side by side as they pulse this life.

But the morning was also beckoning.

Fresh, a new morning.

Stood in the open doorway, letting the freshness displace the night air in the house. Moved out of the house.

The usual perch on the veranda from where I watch the birds was suddenly not enough. Inspiration struck.

I picked up my pen, notebook, and walked out. Been walking the roads, like a mad man, (my friend would say), stopping now and then to write down something. From the feel of the sun on my skin, to the diesel and petrol fumes poisoning the morning air.

Came back feeling up to tackling the world out there.

I respect Americans, but why do their children attack others in class? With guns.

Am a little puzzled. Some cases I can understand. Love spurned, maybe. One 14 year old killed a 15 year old because he was gay? In a way I can understand that. My sexuality does scare people so. And of this one, the one in Illinois who just walks into his class and opens fire? No motive. Least that is what they say. Or he may be off his medicines.

It is a crazy world.

Nothing made me as angry and self righteous as this. Read it yesterday, and I thought, this is a must blog issue. With no comment!

Unused hospital razed in Nigeria A fully-equipped hospital the government refused to open for two years burns to the ground in northern Nigeria.

I can imagine, a fully equipped hospital, un-opened for two years, because the President had not come to visit! Talk about Imperial Presidencies.

And in Uganda, Kampala. Another riot, this time in Makerere University. And, of course, Ugandans have been a bit slow in setting up their own Barack Obama support group. Sigh. It is done now.

(Maybe the fact that Bush is visiting Africa and not visiting Uganda has something to do with it!)

While walking this morning, looking at all the early risers, intent on getting to work, I was a bit saddened.

It is true that I have always had the same attitude. Too focused on getting to work to really look and see the beauty of what is around me. But that does not excuse blindness to beauty.

Wherever you are, remember that you do not need to look too far to see beauty in your world. It is there, unappreciated, till you open your eyes and touch it with your heart.

Have a great day.

GayUganda

Dawn

2008-02-12T08:30:00.000+03:00

Dawn came with the alarm.

No. I set the time to later. Dawn is not as early as it used to be. Six is when I want to be out of bed. Six thirty is when it is light enough to read.

I don’t want to read by the harsh electric lights. At dawn, they break the peace. An intrusion into the softness of everything. So I switch on no lights when I wake.

Today the alarm woke me.

And as I turned over, I remembered that he was supposed to wake at six too.

Woke him up. An early morning appointment, and he was soon out of the house.

I love this part of the day. Stood in the doorway. Read a poem as I gazed out. And wrote one. And another. And I liked them.

Switching on the computer is an intrusion. Welcome as my mind seeks the world to know. Again.

I am a news junkie.

As stated, my MP was charged. As was another opposition MP.

The Kabaka, king of Buganda, is also on the war path with the central government. One of the other things that I have not been blogging about. I have written posts about it, which I feared to post. The closet is not only for those who are gay. Freedom is clipped everywhere that it is. Yet, why should I be restricted? The world that I live in, it is the real world. A harsh reality that will not be softened by the beauty of my perception.

The Kabaka of Buganda has been on a cold war with the central government for a few years. The war is heating up. Gradually, but dangerously. Another, very tribal conflict is looming. Or already is.

Beautiful Uganda. You make me cry, you are so beautiful, and so intent on self injury!

In Lira Hospital, the medics went on strike. And are still on strike? A small matter of unpaid wages. And patients are dying.

Life is the most precious asset that we are handed at conception, delivered at birth. We value it, apparently very little. Yet we do not have spares to it. And there is little that we can do to repair it in Africa, in Uganda, when it is broken. Sad that we handle it so flimsily.

My lover was looking over my shoulder, and is scared that I am putting these things on the blog. Why? Because I am skirting the ‘permitted’ edge of my freedom to be, as known by others.

Yet, I jumped out of one closet, I have realised that I am in another one when I do not have the freedom to think.

Freedom. It is a wonderful concept, yet most of the time, we do not realise that we are behind bars. Even those of thought.

It is a lovely morning, out. I will hold him in my arms, and hope that the sun shines always. On my country, and on my city.

Well, even if it rains, I will still hold him close. I love him.

What is more beautiful than love in life? I know little else. I am content.

GayUganda

(PS. Is there a code here not to blog about politics? Am I breaking any unspoken code of conduct? Sorry if I am. Send me an email to enlighten me, or do comment. gug)

Book Review - Sons & Other Inflammable Objects

2008-02-11T07:41:00.001+03:00

Number of Pages: 396
Publisher: Grove Press, New York
Year: 2007
Reviewed By: Dennis Matanda

Every dysfunctional family has a unique story to tell; and so you will be pleasantly delighted when you finish Porochista Khakpour’s first novel. This book, almost breathlessly written, literally flows through and around three Iranian immigrants – Darius; aptly named after the Biblical King Darius, his wife Lala [although we all scoff at this Americanized version of her Iranian name] and their son Xerxes [Pronounced Zerk – Zees].

Between our equal male protagonists, simple Father | Son secrets, tiny errors and realizations lead to painful separations, intense spoken and unspoken hostility and a warrior like love that affects everyone they meet between California and New York. Throw in the events around 9/11 and Suzanne, Xerxes’ girlfriend and you have a book you will take to work, to the bathroom and to bed.

Ms. Khakpour does not come to preach; however, you will taste rich Persian history and want more, empathize with how people grapple with the American Dream and the nightmares therein and of course, the selfless intimacy with which she shares her characters. In its complete and yet unsatisfying ending, you will, on your own, understand why Xerxes, Lala and Darius do the things they do.

This novel starts humorously slow, gains speed around the middle with a few colorful people and then leaves you - impatient and angry - looking for family solutions that could well be your own. Watch out, World, for there is NOW an American response to Zadie Smith and Chimamanda Adichie Ngozi!

dmatanda@gmail.com

Content

2008-02-10T11:26:00.000+03:00

I would live on a desert island

alone with my thoughts,

a book of poems-

a pen that runs not out,

and paper to write;

I would live like a king

alone in the majesty of words

and not a drop of water

or handful of food would I crave;

though my body pines away

to the dusts of the air

I would live, content.

©GayUganda

New for 2008

2008-02-03T21:49:00.000+03:00

The poll is over, and the people have spoken. Those of you who voted showed an overwhelming fondness for The Kampalan. A slight majority want to narrow the blog's focus to entertainment and city-specific information, while forty percent of you like things just the way they are.

For those of you who are happy with The Kampalan as it stands, keep writing, keep posting, and enjoy yourselves. Your personal reflections and quirky questions make this space a unique reflection of the Ugandan blogosphere.

For those of you who want something a little different out of The Kampalan, here's what we need:

The K'la Insider
Have connections? Bad at keeping secrets? Write for us. We're looking for a writer who not only knows who's who but also who's dating whom and who's saying what about whom. The only secret we want you to keep is yours — whether you're male or female, expat or local, student or vendor of jackfruit. Keep us guessing while you dish up the goods on everyone else.
Suggested reading: Jezebel, Perez Hilton, Defamer

The Political Pundit
Politics your thing? Dying for a place to take the New Vision to task over the latest Parliamentary proposition? This is the spot for you. Get down and dirty with the inner workings of the State House and tell us what you'd do with the nation's top job.
Suggested reading: Daily Kos, Wonkette, Politico

The News Junkie
Can't get through the day without checking on the Monitor, the New Vision and Bukedde? Know what the papers are going to say before you even open them? Be our media maven. Round up the biggest stories of the news cycle in a paragraph or two and let fellow Kampalan readers know what they should be paying attention to today.
Suggested reading: Midnight Poutine's Morning Brew, Slate's Today's Papers

If any of these (unpaid) positions interest you, e-mail me and we'll get you set up.

I cannot not hope

2008-01-29T08:27:00.000+03:00

News out of Kenya is grim. At first we thought that, maybe, just maybe, the handshake between the politicians would solve things.

Well, I was mistaken. Maybe the rest of the world was too. I should have remembered that in 1985, Nairobi was the site of the Uganda Peace Talks between the then guerrilla leader Museveni, and the military junta in power in Kampala. Ugandans called those peace talks the Nairobi Peace Jokes.

Yes, maybe I should have remembered that.

Africa is bleeding. And I am hurting. I feel the pain of the Kenyan as the brother raises hand, machete, spear and arrow against brother. I feel the bewilderment as children are burnt in churches, and neighbour burns neighbour for being the wrong tribe. The bullets flying, the meaningless talk, the pain and fear and the displacement. The loss of life and property and livelihood and hope.

Africa is hurting, and I cannot help but feel the pain.

Yet I cannot give up hope. I must hope.

I cannot not hope.

I will not be wrapped in the pain of despair,

or let the desert chill of hopelessness overwhelm my soul.

I will sow hope, a seed of faith,

broadcast over all the land.

I will plant and toil, sing and cry;

I will labour and water with my tears,

But I cannot not hope.

Hope is the river that waters my heart

that sustains me through thick and thin,

that lays siege to despair and pain

knowing, despite the heaviness of night;

despite the darkness, the mud and pain;

day will come, light broach the night,

the sun will rise,

and my tears of pain will in a face of happiness turn

to tears of joy raised in a face shining with hope

beaming with happiness in the sun’s warm radiance, glorious promise.

I just cannot not hope.

©GayUganda

Uganda Best of Blog Awards.

2008-01-28T03:56:00.000+03:00

Please do not vote for Semambo.wordpress.com. He requested to be removed from the nominees. Thanks.

Charisma, People of Charisma

2008-01-27T19:05:00.000+03:00

I have followed Barack Obama's riocheting rise to prominence in world politics with a bit of awe. Must admit that there are few people just like him. Made me to start thinking of the power that some people have. The power of Charisma.

What is Charisma?

Dont know whether I can put a finger on what it is. To me, it is the power to sway others. Maybe with intellect. Albert Einstein had that, I think. Maybe with oratory- Churchill?, maybe with writing- Shakespeare, to me at least. And Wordsworth.

Or the force of personality.

Where does Obama fall?

Some are gifted with charisma, and do use it to make others their slaves. Slavery of the mind. I am thinking of the guy who led his cult to death, giving them 'Kool Aid'. And of course the Kibwetere of Kanungu in Uganda. He burnt them dead.

Martin Ssempa is definately charismatic. Yes, and it is our problem that we are up against him in Uganda. Us as in Kuchus.

It is interesting to realise the power of a charismatic person. Ssempa is a case in point.

I personally do not like the guy, so what I am going to write is highly suspect.

Ssempa is a handsome, personable man. Very well spoken, articulate, and knows his way round the field of people politics. He is a 'pentecostal' pastor, with a Church at Makerere University which he founded. He is charismatic, and here lies the danger of charisma.

Ssempa is vain, and not a good man personally. He does love power, and seeks it. He is not very clever. Well, I must admit that he says he has an MPH and PhD. The honorary kind, if I am not mistaken. But I might be.

Because he is charismatic, Ssempa jumps up and down on his stage and preaches to his enthralled flock about the beuties of sexual abstinence, how masturbation is a terrible sin, and how Uganda has made its name on the HIV front by following the godly family values of abstinence and being faithful. And this to twenty something zealots.

Ssempa is so illogical in his logic that many laugh at what he says. One has to laugh, but when you hear the fervour of his flock, you cannot help getting concerned. They believe in him. Simply, without thought, without criticism, without any fear.

They are willing to injure me, in the name of their god and Ssempa, yes, because one of the things that Ssempa is rabid about is my sexuality. Homosexuality.
Think I am lying? Check out these posts. One and two. That happened in November 2007, and yes, I had no doubt that Ssempa's flock had no qualms about hurting me in the name of their god.

Maybe that is my definition of charisma. The quality to sway other human beings to follow you in a certain direction.

Told you that I do not like Ssempa. He sincerely believes that he is my friend. And I believe that he believes so. He believes that the best thing for me is to die, (maybe be imprisoned, at least) all in the name of turning me away from homosexuality. Yet he is my 'best friend'. That is according to him. His very words.

But all that is charisma, yet used badly. Is there a person who used it well? Jesus of Nazareth. Churchill. Is Nelson Mandela charismatic, or is it the charisma of hype that surrounded his 27 years in prison?

There is one guy that I have no doubt was charismatic. And he was intelligent enough to use this for the good of his nation. As he saw it.
An unsung hero, to most of the world. Reviled by some, revered by others. Julius Kambarage Nyerere. First President of the United Republic of Tanzania.

I know most in the west have barely heard of him. And those who did, heard that he was a 'communist' and thus 'bad'.
I did have the luck to know a bit more about him. And I must say that I was struck by his charisma.
I am not a Tanzanian, and what I write about him are things which I picked up as I grew up.

Nyerere was a school teacher. He led his country of Tanganyika, to independence. And he was President for 26 years.

Yeah, you may say, typical African strongman. President for life.

But that is where you would be very wrong. Nyerere was indeed a highly intelligent and charismatic, and human person.

He had a vision of the unity of Africa. Negotiated the union of Tanganyika and Zanzibar to make the Tanzania we know.
His was the time of the cold war. And the turbulence of post independent Africa. The west courted him. Kenyatta of Kenya was amenable to the west. Nyerere prefered his independence. He did not like the USSR. And, in the cold war, he embraced China. Instead of USSR. He kept his country truly free.

In that day of ideological wars, Nyerere liked socialism. I think it appealed to his sense of duty to the country that he led. But he did not want to embrace it as it was exported from USSR and China. He developed a political philosophy of his own. African Socialism, or Ujamaa.

Our nations post independence were nothing like they are now. Disparate ethnic groups united by a conqueror called a Colonialist, and then left on their own in 'independence'. Zaire, or the DRC has never got over the post independence convulsions, to date. In Kenya, an 'African Strong Man', took over, saw his opportunity, made himself rich and powerful and have a dynasty etc. And they were never truly united. What is happening today in Kenya is basically a symptom of that. Kikuyu against the rest of the country. Reprehensible, but reality.

I was once in Tanzania. One thing that impressed me, then, as ever was the unity of the country. They are Tanzanians, and they know that they are. We Ugandans, are Ugandans second, but either Baganda, Basoga, Alur, Iteso, etc etc first. Our ethinicity is something which we strongly believe in.
The unity of Tanzania, I have no doubt, was Nyerere's doing. His long reign. Oh yes, it was a reign. His ideas, his promotion of one language of unity. Swahili. And his charisma.

Multipartyism came to Tanzania in the late 80s, if my history is not wrong, and people found that they could talk about what they liked and what they did not like, openly. And they did.

At that time, Nyerere had stepped down. Voluntarily.

He allowed (true to agreement) the President of Zanzibar to become President of Tanzania. An imbecile, (I am allowed a personal assesment, aint I), if there was one. But Nyerere was the power behind the throne.

The country started to move towards multipartism. Slowly, hesistantly. And of course the powers that were felt threatened. They decided to renege on that promise.

Mzee Mwalimu Nyerere, revered Father of the nation (Baba wa Taifa) called a press conference. And at that press conference declared that multi partyism was the way to go. And that was it. When I heard that I was cynical. He had ruled without allowing dissent, but now was forcing his succesor to have an opposition? I thought it hypocritical.

But he was not yet finished.

The ruling party had to choose another man to lead. The imbecile (my pen just slips), was term barred. And of course there was jockeying for positions. Who would be the next man?
Nyerere looked through the list of the likely candidates, and was not impressed. He declared all of them unfit.

The country waited for Nyerere to play king maker.

Interestingly, the current president was younger but very popular. Nyerere rejected him. Too young, his words, I believe. So, he chose an unknown political entity, Benjamin Mkapa, and proceded to campaign for him across the country, and win him his presidency.
And, personally, I believe that this time the old man saw true. He chose a good man.

I once did hear Nyerere speak, in Swahili. I was amazed.

I did not know Swahili, and Nyerere was not president at that time. I was in a place that was a hotbed of dissent. Cross my heart and hope to die, I listened as this elderly, revered gentleman talked on the radio for over an hour. I understood nothing of the language. Tanzanian Swahili is very, very good. And too hard for me.

What I did understand was the rapt attention of almost everyone where I was. They were not forced to turn on their radios. Indeed, they would revile and joke about the sitting president's escapades and switch off the radios when he was talking. But when Nyerere decided to talk non stop for a full hour plus, on radios which the populace could switch off if they so wanted; they broadcast it, to their neighbours and friends who did not have one. They listened, and listened in the heat of Dar-es-Salaam. Those doing work did their work quietly, listening to that charismatic man.

I must admit I was deeply critical of the man at that time. Well, in keeping with the environment I was in. But, despite my lack of comprehension of the language, I noticed the thrall into which it seemed everyone was. A magic spell that settled on all the listeners.
Baba wa Taifa, the Father of the nation was speaking. And literally, the whole nation stopped to listen. And they did listen.

Nyerere is now dead. Still as revered as he was. In keeping with his frugal style, he never amassed the wealth that his neigbours did. When he decided that the 'socialist' way was not the way for his country, he relinquished the reins, into the hands of an (imbecile) but still oversaw, for 8 long years. And during that time, he personally steered the country towards a market economy, and multi partyism, and a democracy, the African way.

Yeah, I was impressed by the man. Incidentally, besides writing his own philosophy of leadership in Africa, I hear he translated the full works of Shakespeare into Swahili. Truly a man of many parts.

(I must confess when I heard about the translation I was deeply prejudiced. I was younger, and demonstrably more stupid than I am at the moment.)

Anyway, going back to the subject of charisma, Is Barak Obama in the mold of a Nyerere?
If he is, with all his idealism and talk of hope and charisma, well, maybe the US will have a president they will respect, and indeed hold in the awe of JFK. If he becomes president.

If he is indeed as charismatic as that, I do not envy Hillary Clinton's bid to beat him. Even if he is still the underdog.

GayUganda

Grey Day

2008-01-26T10:00:00.000+03:00

The day is grey. Really grey.

I mean, the sun is not to be seen. A haze has settled over the valleys of Kampala, and even the hills seem to be wrapped in it. I am downtown, looking out towards Old Kampala hill. Cant see the green of the trees. It is a dark, shadow that sits where-ever the trees should be.
Grey Kampala. But bustling all the same.

It is supposed to be a national holiday. The ruling party. Odd. The party in power does have its own National day.

But there are quite a number of vehicles on the streets. And people. And movement, and- Kampala is its usual bustly self. I came with an umbrella because it was drizzling when I left home. Noticed that most people did not have them, and rightly so. My weather sense was telling me, despite the heavy overcast, the mist, and the drizzle, that it should be a hot and bright day. Yet to see whether I can still read that right.

Grey day.

Does not reflect what is in my mind. But there is a friend who seems to be having a grey time.
Iwaya. A cyber acquaintance. Met him here, and have been visiting his blog. Following his posts.
These posts, they reveal so much and so little of us. He was working in Southern Sudan, Juba. Seems both to love and hate the place. It is a tough posting. Rough place with minimal government. And we seem to have problems, as Ugandans working in Sudan. Horror stories.
Followed his posts through a return to Uganda for holidays, an apparent break up, returning to Sudan, and then the horror of a house fire where 8 Ugandans were burnt to death. 2 of them were his friends.

He writes beautifully. Lyrical. Kind of hard sometimes to know whether the emotions expressed are his. Yet they are too intense, too heartfelt to be someone else’s. In prose and poetry, he has told a story of his life. And he is in pain.

I feel it, too. Through his writing. Hope you’ll be okay, Iwaya. My prayers for you. May the problems be solved.

GayUganda

The Day

2008-01-23T15:12:00.000+03:00

Sun is not going to be out today. Least, does not seem likely.

Low overcast cloud. The trees and leaves green and turgid, stirring fitfully in the cold uneven breeze.

Kampala, as I know it, is a very bustly city. People moving everywhere, goods and services on the sale at every corner of the street and in the middle of the roads. All is movement, and bustle, and noise, of car horns, cars engines and the tangy stench of exhausts.

A cold Kampala is not made much better by the lack of sun. One feels the cold, cutting, in sympathy to the usual blanket of heat teasing sweat from our glistening bodies.

But today, today, it will not be so. Today the sun is hid, and maybe unhidden only in the afternoon, if it does.

Have just done a bit of work. One of those days, when words seem to flow smooth, and life has that edge to it that makes it worth the while to sing about its oil of happiness. Reading Charlotte Bronte’s poem, ‘Life’ this morning, I am minded on how fitting it is. Life is not a dream dark. Life is a flow of river, sometimes quick, sometimes a cascade, sometimes slow and lumbering, always flowing.

And today, it flows. Though it is true that the sea is the final destination, yet I will take joy in the song of the bird, the strains of music in the air, the tang of cold on my skin, and the news of a football match on the other side of the continent.

The Kenyan convulsions have eased, a bit. Though we are still taking the aftershocks. Have heard of another world wide convulsion in the stock markets. Had never heard of something that is called ‘sub prime’ loans and things like that. I will not swear to knowing the definition, even now.

But I know that in this global village of our, that unknown thing may affect how I do the things that I do.

A day with the adrenaline coursing near the skin, yet I cannot help yawning. It is beautiful, how many times can I emphasize that without being repetitive?

GayUganda

UB40 at Lugogo Cricket Club - February 23th

2008-01-22T13:46:00.000+03:00

This is not big news, and a little early, but apparently UB40 is playing at Lugogo in a month.

VIP tickets are 125,000.
General tickets are 25,000 ugsh.

Red red wine, baby!

Yet another BHH

2008-01-11T14:59:00.000+03:00

We didn't have one for December (thought we deserved a break) but we are back for yet another Blogger's Happy Hour in January.

This time around it is on Thursday 24th January 2008 at 6.30pm at Mateos, as usual.

It is also time for the UBOB. For those of you who do not know what this is, it is the annual Ugandan Best Of Blogs Awards. Please e-mail your suggestions for categories and nominations for the ones suggested below to darlkom@gmail.com or come with them to this months BHH. I am putting up the parameters we used for the awards last year, please let us know using the comment section if there are any particular changes you want to see.

The first annual Uganda Best of Blogs competition was based on the following categories

Ugandan blog of the year — open to any blog written by a Ugandan or focusing on Uganda

Best post — The single best piece in the Ugandan blogosphere

Best blog in Uganda — Written by anyone living in Uganda in 2007

Best overseas Ugandan blog — Any Uganda-focused or Ugandan-authored blog written in a foreign country

Best writing — Intelligent, witty, feisty, eloquent or just plain funny

Best design — Best overall design and layout

Best photography — Best photo taken by a Ugandan blogger and posted on his or her blog

To be considered for the 2007 Uganda BOB awards, blogs must fulfill the following criteria:

Have dated entries

Have existed at some point during 2007

Be written by a Ugandan, by a non-Ugandan living in Uganda, or be focused on Uganda

In the nomination phase,

URLs are required for all nominated blogs

The maximum number of blogs you may nominate for a category is two (2) for most categories and three (3) for Ugandan blog of the year

You must nominate at least three (3) different blogs total — no flogging of one blog for numerous categories

You may nominate your own blog, but the nominations for your own blog must be less than one third of your total (legitimate) nominations

There is no limit to the number of categories for which a blog may be nominated

Nominees have to fit the category they are placed in

After BHH, the nominations will be open for one month, till the February BHH on 28th February 2008.

the Audacity of Hope

2008-01-08T21:29:00.000+03:00

a man- of soaring eloquence;
in whom the pulse to life
throbs, near to surface,
fascinating, ensnaring, empowering-
any, all that dare near
the sun to fly, never untouched.

the audacity of hope-
Hope, that the sun will rise,
though darkness threatens-
the moon her brilliance touch
to full, the skies to clear,
a man, woman to know God-
in depths of despair, the world
to change, retouch, renew;
not a lifeless bauble-
a living, life giving mother to us.

the audacity of hope, giving hope-
world over,
not a Ceasar to rule, I pray
(human is fallible)
but a man, who dares to hope and
this world reach, turn to stare
and, dare to hope...

the audacity of hope, rising
in our breasts, my breast, yours-
in Africa, America, Europe;
hope soaring in Asia, Australia
-the audacity of hope.

Dare to dream, a man that
dares all to dream, to hope
the Audacity of hope.

(c)GayUganda

Funny. I have never read the book.

I am an African. He is American.
I do not like stereotypes, shortcuts to thinking. But I recognise the overwhelming feel of good that seems to float from him. Not because I can try to claim him an African. Fie on that.

Because as a human being, he is a charismatic one who is holding the hope of using that power to sway for good.

The poem lacks a lot. True.

Yet, as flawed as it is, I think it tells something of what I felt yesterday, thinking of his suprising win.

GayUganda

A Thought for Africa

2008-01-01T09:32:00.000+03:00

Chains?

they’re on my body,

not my mind-

I’m free, where it matters.

©GuG

It’s the new year, 2008.

Beautiful outside. Dry weather, a bright sun promising heat in the day. Heat there is now, a nice, dry feel to the skin. The kind which would have me throw off my shirt and labour under the sun, skin glistening with glorious sweat running down my back, muscles rippling and dancing under my dark skin, swinging an axe, or hoe, pulling at stubble in a field, in the hope of rain far off in the future.

Africa. Beautiful Africa.

The new year has dawned as the old did. New and old are mixed, despair and hope.

Another African leader has betrayed his people. This time in Kenya.

Swindling a poll? Maybe he did not. But there is so much circumstantial evidence that he is guilty till proven otherwise. Like our president, he came in on a wave of promise, five years ago. Popular support, acclaim, for a new Kenya, a jewel in Africa’s crown.

Like our president, again, he has turned a horrible new leaf.

Chains? Yes, they are there. But we are free. As free as we will allow ourselves to be.

Sometime ago, I would wail and cry at what has happened in Kenya. The betrayal of trust. The mindless deaths. Unreasoned, unreasonable actions.

Yet I have to admit that I hold too closely to the values which are foreign to my culture. They are good values. But not enough of us hold them to make them African. They evolved in the thinking of years. In Africa, in Kenya, some steps forwards were taken, now we slide back.

Yet these chains are on our bodies. We are still free.

And it is that freedom that I am carrying on in the new year.

I do freely admit that I am stubborn enough to hold onto my convictions. I am an African. A Ugandan, living and working in Uganda. I will, and do, borrow and steal and take from all over the world. I will not be constrained by the trappings of culture. And I will not accept, as seems reasonable, that conventional, western thoughts are the norm. I will think, and reason, and argue, and say, that which my mind deems to be right.

That is freedom. That is freedom of the mind.

There are chains of poverty, of ill will, of greed, of corruption and despair all around me. Death seems a constant companion. Life’s cycles seem corrupted by pain and despair.

Yet I know, believe, that I am free. Because I am free.

Beautiful Africa. My beautiful world.

I know you are hurting, your children hurt, your earth raped, your forests naked and stolen and hurt. But thank you for the gift of life, and freedom of the mind that I celebrate of now, in this new year.

And thank you for a very beautiful morning, dawn, and weather promising a beautiful day today.

GayUganda

Kenyan Convulsions

2007-12-31T08:48:00.000+03:00

Our neighbours to the east are convulsed in tears of pain, more characteristic of Uganda.

They have been good neighbours through the years. Stable, fair, open minded, to our clannishness and self serving spirit as Ugandans.

When I heard that Kenya was going for elections, I was not worried. When I heard that the leader of the opposition was leading opinion polls, I was envious of Kenya. It has one time peacefully voted out a ruling party. To elect an opposition coalition.

The polls were calm, very surprising to me, a Ugandan. Polls are not supposed to be calm, at least not in my experience.

I really started taking note when the results were being announced.

Pure farce, and comedy, Uganda style.

When the ruling party is losing, some very interesting things can happen. In Uganda, independent radio stations that publish the ‘incorrect’ results are jammed. Illegally.

Their websites are blocked, from issuing any results. And so when their negative results suddenly turn positive for the ruling party, all protest fails to raise or turn a single hair. This is Africa, we are told, Uganda.

I am cynical of our dear leaders’ credentials to democracy. Fie, it is a ‘western’ value! Don’t get me wrong, it is a beautiful and wonderful concept. But we are yet to make it work in our nations.

What has happened in Kenya is typical Ugandan democracy.

The overwhelming lead of the opposition was slashed. A ‘Florida’ style (guess we did learn from the Americans that year, huh?) delay in announcing the results. Then when the final results come in, surprise, surprise. The incumbent is the president.

‘We are Kenyans, not beasts’ the Chairman of the Kenyan Electoral commission declared at the height of the farce. I was emboldened and cheered for the man. His sense of identity and pride as a Kenyan was evident.

Poor guy.

He did announce the results. Surrounded by police and ‘protected’.

Within the hour, the incumbent was sworn in.

And a taped ‘swearing’ in ceremony was broadcast on the national television. Behold, the incumbent has a new term. The king is dead, long live the king.

Who will believe in this? Who believed the Nigerian election results? No one.

Life goes on. Pray for Kenya, in the new year. The convulsions have just started. Ugandans are old hands at this. I would dearly not have wished this on Kenya. But it has happened. Life goes on, and brace yourself. Fasten your seat belt. Turbulent times ahead in the new year.

God bless Kenya in the trying time ahead.

GayUganda

Overhaul

2007-12-28T20:33:00.000+03:00

A lot of people have been wondering about this blog lately — why are so many of the listed contributors expats? Why doesn't anyone post? How do I join? What, exactly, is the purpose of this whole thing?

When I started The Kampalan, I envisioned something like Gothamist or DCist — a city-specific blog that would cover mostly arts and entertainment with the occasional news post thrown in to sober things up. I hoped people could check out the site to find something fun to do this weekend or see what the best new restaurant in Kabalagala was.

At the same time, I wanted to leave things open to the contributors, to let them decide where they wanted to take the blog. That approach has led to an eclectic jumble of introspection, how-tos and lists of wireless cafes.

Me, I'm all about structure, and I'd like to see The Kampalan morph into something more along the original guidelines I'd set in my head — a one-stop source of information, insider tips and news about Kampala's entertainment scene. But what do you guys think?

You have a month to vote. In the meantime, if there's something about Kampala you're dying to say, e-mail me and tell me why you want to be a contributor.

xo,
JF

November Blogger's Happy Hour

2007-11-23T18:14:00.000+03:00

This is a heads up. BHH, this thursday (29/11/07) at Mateos. 6.30pm.

See you there.

Me, I’m Just Asking

2007-11-15T20:35:00.000+03:00

Did anyone notice that nearly all the supposed main contributors of The Kampalan are, er, not in Kampala? Could we be dealing with a hidden spell on the blog? Join the list of contributors and promptly something comes up that compels you to have to leave Kampala? I’m just asking!

L'Heure Jolie

2007-10-25T11:54:00.000+03:00

Yep. The Uganda Bloggers' Happy Hour.

She be in-a de works. And she says, here (at the bottom), that "the event has been moved to the first Thursday of next month. That is, 1st November which really is Thursday next week. The monthly salary will have made it’s way to many people’s bank accounts so there will be lotsa drinks to go around. So yeah, next Thursday. Mateo’s. 6:30pm"

Now, if you miss, and I catch you. Trouble. Be there. Only three acceptable excuses - you know them: sex, baby, anonymity. Post a link or two to thine blog, s'il vous plaît. Do the propaganda thing. ;o) Baz, you are good at ads. Cummon, show me sum'n.

And I am falling off the radar, as it is. That Thursday night will bring in the day that will be the last at my job. No free internet in the slums, so I'm falling off-a de radar.

And I will be hibernating. Spending cents so they can stretch out to when I want to get back to working for other people. Or until the Revolution cometh, and all-a de people will be equal in a Communist utopia! :o)

Okay. There. I can vanish now. I will probably haunt other Happy Hours, but that's not a given. Heck, I'm even plotting for raiding another country for a while. Wicked stories should have piled up by the time I come back. Like the one about the Pretty Girl And The Camera. ;o)

Exeunt.

Headquarters Movin' ...

2007-09-13T07:30:00.000+03:00

What you are reading is my first post to The Kampalan. It is the first of a number. I am the acting organiser for the Uganda Bloggers' Happy Hour. And because I am letting my own blog hibernate (on top of it not being the best venue for what I'll be doing here), I am going to be putting any/all communiqués concerning the UBHH over here.
So ... dress up for the 27th of September, 2007, for on that fateful day, yet another Happy Hour shall touch the ground at Mateo's Bar. The usual time (starting 6:30pm, to when the last blogger leaves).

Okay, now ... some links into the Diverse Community that we are. Pernille left for Tanzania. The blog is no longer called I Left Copenhagen for Uganda, but the more-cryptic Louder than Swahili. If it hasn't changed yet ...
And, there is a Ugandan blogger who steals girl's lingerie. That is me. There is another who is a liar (especially about what he steals). That's me, again. And another, who is lazy at work. That's me again. There is a girl blogger who speaks too fast. There is another blogger who happens to have flown to Babylon of late. Another is located in India. Another is gay. Another has never really been in Uganda for a looong time. They are all different. One blog is hard to read, due to the theme. In the end, the blogs and their bloggers make a very diverse community. Different people, different blogs, same community. The point of this paragraph was to introduce that said gay blogger. He blogs here. He is, probably out of obvious necessity, anonymous. Still, you may want to check it out. Or maybe not. You get to choose.

Being Back Home

2007-09-05T20:27:00.001+03:00

Being Back ... Is like seeing the arms of an old Lover;
Seeing your space and comfort zone still there;
Knowing the warmest and darkest corners to run and hide;
The brightest and best things being and coming free;
Understanding the norms; feeling the forms;
Being and seeing and happily living.

But this Old Lover still has the same faults;
The things we fight about all the time;
And She says I have changed - just because I met new Towns;
Towns that are in lands far, far away - too far for Her.

And my heart breaks for my Old Lover, Friend, Foe and Lover;
For soon, after Being Back, I have to Love Her and Leave Her.

Resistance Is Futile?

2007-08-27T13:35:00.000+03:00

It's not that I have better things to do. Or I do not have access to MNet and that channel that brings us Big Brother Africa. I had simply chosen not to watch Big Brother because I did not think this version can bring anything I did not see the other time round. And My God, did anyone try to watch the Big Brother Nigeria? I doubt if even in Nigeria they watched it though someone keeps telling me it had tonnes of fans. I believe that not!

Now I think my vow not to watch this version of BBA might not stand much longer. I mean how am I supposed to resist when someone calls me in the middle of night breathlessly informing me Maureen (the Ugandan representative) has slept with Code (Malawian representative)? When I get to work I’m met by a girl besmirching Maureen, “How can you allow your mum to see them doing you?” before she flounces off to watch the Shower Hour on.

Yes, we have this DSTV thing where I work and lunchtime is BBA time! A comment from a woman when they were watching Shower Hour today, “Naye buttocks are ugly!” I say their, because I was only overhearing the comments from where I sit and have not yet given in to watching this BBA thing, this time.

It turns out that Maureen has not yet had sex with Code or anyone else. I know Countryboyi will frown when I say this, but Maureen only kissed Code, so far. I hear. I have not yet begun to watch. I still have not yet gathered the stomach to watch BBA or Shower Hour in particular. I happened upon a picture in Saturday’s Red Pepper of what happens during Shower Hour and I’m still trying to purge the image from my mind.

In My Head

2007-07-23T13:15:00.000+03:00

I wonder if it is possible to tag The Kampalan. Would it count? Who would answer the tag?
Did no one at The Kampalan go for the Blu*3/ Montell Jordon show?
Why is it so damn cold these days? Am I the only one buying more hankies and socks than I buy any other apparel?
What kind of person uses the word Aparel?
Did the August BHH happen already and can I resume my stalking role?
Am I the only one reading and in awe of the new greater Just Rich?
These kids, Ivan, Ishta, Rich, Sunshine-Esquire, Petesmama, what in heaven’s name are they on lately?
Whatever happened to Minty, and why does Degstar only just comment on people’s blogs, do the new bloggers know that once upon a time Jay was a legend and Baz gushed about him?
Ivan said it is possible to over-blog and I said it is not possible. I’m beginning to think that maybe he was right.
What do you do when you open your blog to google ads and blogger accepts an ad for red light districts to pop up on your blog?

Bonus

How many of you have met me and grinned knowingly?

WIRELESS AT CROC'S

2007-07-03T15:19:00.000+03:00

So here's the deal with wifi at Crocodile's: you can pay for UTL, 5k for 2 hours, or,

****search for LINKSYS and get wifi for FREE....

I hear macs can't access the signal... but I definitely was there and surfed on it all morning.

More wireless...

2007-07-01T15:37:00.000+03:00

Just a couple more places:

Rwenzori restaurant in Lugogo Mall (5k for two hours, I think)
Anonymous Internet cafe in Ntinda Shopping Centre (5k for two hours; no comfy chairs or food/drink, and not really fast... but only wireless in Ntinda area)

Remember the good ol' days, when wireless at Pap was free, and you could spend all day there blogging between some Ugandan business man and a crunchy foreigner with dreads and an iBook? *epic sigh*

Wireless Internet, Part II

2007-07-01T13:18:00.000+03:00

Scarlett Lion posted earlier about wireless internet in Kampala. Here are my additions to her list:

Just Kickin' in Kisementi (free for two hours)

Mateo's on Parliament Avenue (rumored to exist; rumored to be free)

Crocodile in Kisementi (5000 shillings buys a card that sometimes gets you an hour, sometimes unlimited)

Rouge, across from Nando's on Kampala Road (coming soon)

Iguana in Kisementi/Kamwokya (coming soon)

Get Your Groove On or Learn How To.

2007-06-26T15:37:00.000+03:00

I love to dance and also I love to learn how to dance so if you too want to learn there a bunch of places you can go. Like yesterday I learnt how to break dance at the Nsambya Sharing Centre, you can too and for free too. Mondays and Wednesdays from 4.30 to 8.30. If you are more into the ballroom type of dances, you can go the National Theatre where you will find Samuel. It is wise to call him first and there is a fee to be paid. His number is 0772328084. Happy Feet everyone.

Wireless Internet

2007-06-25T19:44:00.000+03:00

Now that I've rejoined laptop land *yeah* and another *yeah* to Rebekah for putting together this blog, I say we compile a list of all the places with wifi.

Here's my contribution....

-Cafe Pap
-Bubbles
-Effendi's
-My apartment (sometimes... and it's very, very, very slow...)
-Catch the Sun

Okay, now it's up to the rest of y'all to think of a bunch more places so we have the authoritative list of wifi in Kampala.

A Dispenser Story

2007-06-25T19:04:00.000+03:00

Unlike my friend Dennis who believes in flashing a smile at the service to get what he wants, I cannot do that. First of all, the service is male. And second of all, what if the service is over zealous?

I work at a place where the service is overzealous. Currently I’m engaged in a big fight with the guy who is supposed to boil water for making tea and the like because he is offended if I bypass the cooling water in the flask to get my water very hot out of the dispenser, clearly marked with taps for hot and cold water.

My efforts to explain that the dispenser was manufactured to provide hot and cold water simultaneously have been futile. He is convinced that I and the rest of the work-room- who snigger as I labour to explain to him each morning this technology was made to be used like that-are ruining the dispenser. He stands guard most mornings and evenings, hovering around the kitchen in the hope of catching anyone who will brazenly use the dispenser.

To get to that morning dispenser requires Jay-Z rhyming skill, “So I change styles every two rhymes,” remembering, “when I'm rhymin with remarkable timing.” Yup!

How to Get the Best Service in Uganda

2007-06-25T08:50:00.000+03:00

By Dennis Matanda

Of course you could decide to be a Muzungu and automatically get the best of service at restaurants. Or you could decide to hang out exclusively with the above mentioned people - and still get the word 'Love' on top of your latte. All this should work like a charm. But better still, you could keep your black birth mark and treat the waiters and waitresses with a little respect.

I am not saying go out and shake hands with them or ask after their shoes, labels and uniform. No. Just go there and smile and ask how they are. They should give you a generic blank answer. Because they are a little numb to pleasure and passion and all those things that are great in customer service, just goad them along with a non flirtacous smile and questions on their recommendations. I am sure they will start to warm up to you. The thing to remember is that a smile will bring out the brightest part of your dark face.

Waiters and waitresses are all the same around the world. Forget the ones Hollywood has on display. If you are nice to them, they will be nice to you. And I do not want to hear you Ugandans complain about customer service in these parts. What about a little client service?? If you want customer service, teach those people that serve you how you want to be served! I am sure you know that people will only treat you as well as you let them ... so there.

I am getting excellent customer service from the restaurants, pubs and other places of convenience [excuse the pun] in Kampala - which I think is a great thing. I am sure you can do the same.

welcome to the kampalan

2007-06-24T15:22:00.000+03:00

Welcome to The Kampalan, Uganda's first entertainment blog. Put together by expats, students, journalists and bloggers, The Kampalan is the best source for information about upcoming concerts, film festivals, theatrical productions, parties and more.

Want to contribute? E-mail Rebekah.