This story is dedicated to anyone who has never read Adam Bede by George Eliot. I hope this story inspires you to pick it up. It's also dedicated to good fathers, headstrong women, and memories that stay alive in perfume bottles. Reading has always been Ssalongo’s second love; never mind that his wife Nnalongo abhorred … Continue reading Sweaty Roses
Running from God
'What are you so afraid of?' he asks me. 'You,' I murmur nervously, examining the fat stones on my fingernails, 'Obviously!' 'I am the most un-scary person I know!' 'You know what I mean.' 'You can't tell me no other man in Kampala has told you he loves you!' 'As a matter of fact, every … Continue reading Running from God
The Black August
“This I know: to be murdered is to become eternally more interesting.”Kate Morton, The Clockmaker's Daughter I used to think we died the way we lived. I thought if a girl whittled away her one life puffing smoke at the blackening sky and posing for one weed-selfie after another knowing that her head-dress-wearing aunts gnashed … Continue reading The Black August
Those little things we do to or for others that shape our destiny…
I want to consult this blogger on his days as a school merchant.
In deed, the little things we do to or for others can determine who we’re and or shape our destiny. I recall sometimes in the year 2008 or thereabout when I was in form three, I unknowingly landed on my first client. It was in RE; TENGECHA BOYS’ HIGH SCHOOL VS. JAPHET THE HEAD BOY & 2 OTHERS AND RAYMOND MISOI ~EX PARTE APPLICANT.
I appeared for the Ex Parte Applicant. The respondents never entered their appearance to answer my Client’s claims.
The presiding Judge was our class teacher, Mr. Chirchir who doubled as our English/Literature teacher.
Back then, the school monitors/prefects had immense and unquestioned powers that they could even beat up fellow students.
They happen to beat up my good friend (My client) for unknown reasons. In fact, they brutalized him with a broomstick🧹. I knew nothing about the law relating to human rights but according to my…
View original post 1,043 more words
Meg Jay | The Defining Decade
I should reread this. I was forced to the first time.
Title: The Defining decade, why your twenties matter and how to make the most of them now
Author: Meg Jay
Published: 17thApril 2012
I read this book about a week ago, one of the first I have read after revamping my reading culture. It was a recommendation from a friend and I can not be any more glad that we initiated a conversation that led to him telling me about it. Most people that know me are probably tired of me telling them about this book, because of my love for it. I so much want every twenty something to take a trip through these pages. Sometimes I feel like I should force them. I couldn’t be any more glad that I read it soon enough. I read it in two sittings but over the weekend, I went back to it which prompted me into penning down.
Flipping through…
View original post 1,626 more words
A Toast to Irene
This poem is inspired by a wedding I attended where one of the bridesmaids got her foot in her mouth and spilled secrets. It is about much more, though. It is about our sisters and daughters. Our mothers and best friends. It is about forgetting your worth when you love somebody so much--too much. It … Continue reading A Toast to Irene
Of Savannahs & Kings
“My stories,” he vows over strains of jazz music in the candlelit room, “will jolt readers with lazy imaginations from practiced stupors.” She sips her Four Cousins in a whisky glass. “How so?” “If we were characters, today’s reader would not imagine us as we are—brown Ugandan faces with impossibly big dreams.” She takes in … Continue reading Of Savannahs & Kings
A Prayer to the God of Scent and Stench.
Dear God, It’s your Ugandan daughter, with the 4C hair. As you know, I was born in Mengo Hospital between day and night. My mother grumbled often that I was a literal pain in her gut. I was yellow like custard as a newborn bun. Four years in the sun quickly remedied that. I have … Continue reading A Prayer to the God of Scent and Stench.
NOVEMBER 3RD, 2020.
I have suffered from writer's block since the clock struck midnight this year. It is not new for anyone who claims to be a writer. Today, for the first time since that night, my fingers are pleading. They beg me to immortalize this night. As I begin to type, it is 7:54pm Ugandan time--East African … Continue reading NOVEMBER 3RD, 2020.
HUSH.
This is a work of fiction. Any spark of resemblance between the characters and any persons, acquaintances or exes of the reader (or writer for that matter) living or dead is purely coincidental. One day in May, after weeks of postponing the inevitable, I edited my relationship status on Facebook from In a Relationship to … Continue reading HUSH.
SMOKE & LEAVES 