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.
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.
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.
“But I can give thee more:For I will raise her statue in pure gold;That while Verona by that name is known,There shall no figure at such rate be setAs that of true and faithful Juliet.”Rome & Juliet: Act V Scene 3 William Shakespeare. In the streets of Verona, the mongrels still tussle over old scraps … Continue reading THE RED MORNING
In this Think-Like-A-Man world, this Fault-in-our-Stars universe, it embarrasses me to say that I am inept at love. Falling in love is something most people have to resist. Shaking off suitors should be as easy as wearing lipstick. I am still staggering in nine-inch heels when it comes to understanding how romance works. I believe that my inefficiency at … Continue reading UNDER THE WOLF’S BONNET
Kumbe these skills had already been made in Uganda by 2011!
The birth of the Kalashnikov did not give birth to war.
Do not be fooled.
Neither did the uprisings of protestors marching change any verdicts for any trial.
We are not in control.
Martin Luther King did not bring freedom for the westernized slaved men
And Mandela did not do shit for his kinsmen.
Screw the Obama craze of “yes we can“
And all of those nonsensical slogans.
Be gone with all your Greek mythology,
All your maths, physics and biology.
I want to know about me,
The wars, the Majimaji
The Mythicals, the Bacwezi,
My roots, MY reality.
BUT the reality IS THAT
We have lost our identity,
Our souls, our heritage,
Our ancestors’ stories now slowly fade to the back with the black lost ghost of self.
Left behind in a map and fled to a foreign land to try and understand why he couldn’t…
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Hey. Thank you for the shoutout on my flash fiction “Boat Drowns Lovers”. My eyes are saucers right now.
Articles submitted to magazines are often renamed before publication. Publishers frequently publish novels with different titles from the ones dreamed up by their authors.
Titles are rarely counted as part of competition or submission wordcounts. With a limit of 101 words, this title was cleverly used to signal what the story was about. Without it, I might have struggled to understand the narrative.
So how can I find a killer title?
When I struggle to find the word I want in the pea soup that is my…
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“When a man is born, the human race as well as the individual, he is thrown out of a situation which was definite…into a situation which is indefinite, uncertain and open. There is certainty only about the past — and about the future only as far as that it is death.”- The Art of Loving … Continue reading To You, My Sister and Sisters
This essay was first published in the Kalahari Review platform on 25th December 2019. “Away in a manger; No Crib for a bed. The little Lord Jesus lay down his sweet head. The cattle were lowing, the baby awakes But little lord Jesus, no sound that he makes. The little lord Jesus, asleep in the … Continue reading A Very Weary Christmas
I live in Uganda. It is an unpolished pearl sliced in half by the equator. In Uganda, we don’t trust numbers, statistics, or headlines. However, every morning, you will find us squinting at the rack of the dailies we don’t intend to buy, reading the many versions of the truth cooked up by the media, … Continue reading The Pearl Of Many Colours