Changing Lanes

Going by the thousands of rules of social etiquette, I think it’s time for many men to just throw in the towel and retire altogether. In this fast age, the girls are either disregarding this rule or they are just not made like they used to make them anymore.

There was a time when everything was slow. The males of the species did not have to work themselves to death trying to live up to the expectations of society. They did not have to pretend that they were loaded and that they could take out Miss Muppet to the pictures anytime she felt like it. The males of the species just did what was possibly human; trotting around the place like Superman. Alas, being Superman turned out to be not enough.

The problem is that the females of the species started turning away from what was important. They looked away from the brilliance of their guys and they saw what they thought was utopia. Talk about the serpent targeting their great, granny; he knew where the weakest link lay. (yes, I just said that). So its sad that things are now the way they are but we seem to have gone so far, there’s no hope of return.

Now they want to propose! They want to go the whole twenty feet; the expensive wine, the expensive restaurant (damn those giddy romance novelists), and the crowning moment, the ring. They actually want to go through all this saying, times have changed and so we have to change with the times.

Did these poor people never learn that they cannot reinvent the wheel? I mean, seriously, who else but a man can be suave enough to effect that timeless gesture; sweeping the ring out of the coat pocket into the lucky woman’s hands? Which female can go from sitting position to kneeling position in one flawless motion? Some things are clear cut and no matter how we agitate for social change, they will never change.

And the funny thing is that the males are not going to put up a fight for their rights. They are not going to stage a highly controversial production up in the theatre about their body parts, no. They just don’t have the energy to waste. But some females just don’t see this. If they stopped for just a second, they would ask themselves why they are fighting for something that’s not worth fighting for. Because the status quo must never be changed. If it is changed, everything falls apart. Maybe that’s why the males are not fighting to defend the fort.

Point is, nature was cruel to them. They far out–number the males yet the males seem to see things in a different light. So they try to make them ‘see’ things in the correct light. They hope the guys will take a hint and realise that they want to get married and settle down and have children and…Phew! That’s a lot of stuff to be preparing for.

uuuuurgh!

these pangs! they just wont go away. it’s a sad affair to have food infront of you yet not be able to eat. uuurgh!

darkman/grey man

What do you know? The president-in-waiting of this country is sitting up, sipping on coffee with Andrew Mwenda. A chick I was chatting with just a moment ago snidely commented that we were just looking on a grey man and getting excited. That there was really nothing too earthshaking about a grey man (and she gave reasons why this guy is grey. something to do with medicine and all that…).

Yes, they are having quite the time of their lives. Laughing away and making Ugandans wonder if he’s Superman or the dumbest jerk that ever lived. I mean, how could he say the things he has said about the lubengo man and actually come back here? Couldn’t he just stay out of our hair and…die in exile? Thats what all self respecting opposition politicos have done; Milton, Idi…and the other guy.

Whatever the case, there’s like a million and two Ugandans who actually think this dark man is going to be prez. In fact, there was an avalanche at the EC when the guy came home; suddenly, the voter turn up just went to 90%, it seems.

But who cares? At the end of the day, its going to be the story of another African leader trying to steal the cake out of the baby’s mouth.There’ll probably be tales of shadowy rebels and rumours of some guy who will come back and mete out misery on the baganda. oohps! that guy is dead and buried.

Oh, and Mama Winnie is also sitting up there trying to pass off as a quiet and soft woman in the shadow of her man. I wonder if they left Anselm in the trunk of the car, watching over the hammers.

Not gonna cry

How do you handle the death of a guy who was always around, a guy who had unknowingly become a rock in so many people’s lives? I promised myself I wouldn’t cry. I said I would not answer when someone asked me where this hommie went. I thought that maybe, there was a crazy chance, like those crazy things we keep on hearing about, dead guys turning up at parties, that this hommie would just pick up the phone and holla as only he could holla.

This hommie decided to give up. Like another hommie I knew, he also just slid off the edge. Didn’t even give any sign. The glint in his eye was as bright as ever and the jokes were getting even rowdier. That was a sign that he was back. The chemo was just a momentary thing. Joy would come in the morning and so on and so forth.

But the joke was on me. The joke was on us and it was a cruel one, brotha. How could you go and do that?

There were cancerous rumours. We all nodded and said some unintelligible nothings under our breaths. Because deep down, we didn’t really believe. In fact, when that good lady doc said it was a form of cancer that would cure, we all said that maybe, this judgment was closer to the mark. But still, we believed that the diagnosis was flowed. There couldn’t be cancer in that young bod, surely?

Because this guy was still strong. This guy was still too young to even be thinking of the things people think about when they get the beginning warnings that there is such a thing as the Grim One. Well, as the chaplain stressed at the funeral, he didn’t leave a seed. And he said is so often, probably the Honorable would have struggled him gladly, only that he did not have the strength.

He was the sort of guy who would push his way into your heart. There are two kinds of people; those who have the personality of a steel beam and those who you just cannot ignore. This guy was the latter kind. He was everywhere at once and in your thoughts. His loud voice and the warmth in his laugh were things we would not admit to missing when he took a sojourn somewhere. And he was off often; globe trotting and doing things for the site…

Since back in the day, everyone knew him. From the days when he was in Kitante to the first days of secondary school, to the days after uni, when people had grown and forgotten what it was to be alive. He never forgot how to savor every moment. He was the guy to see if you needed inspiration.

While his pals from primary school were causing havoc in Mwiri, he was into more mature stuff. He was looking ahead, already having seen his dream. He wanted to be in music and even at that age, he was to be heard beat boxing and singing away. I shall never forget those days when one would not be sure if it was Paul singing or Keith Sweat. One could never be too careful guessing.

Then there were all the crazy jokes from Hannington House and you have to give it to him, he was the soul of the party. Because you could throw any kind of jibe at him and you never saw a guy who could take a joke better. Even when the tide seemed to be against him, this guy would simply go over to his locker, grab a mug and prepare a heavy one of Kyugi. Then he would be back, throwing jokes and tearing the roof off.

His A Levels were the most memorable. It was whispered that he could or could have not been part of the clique that finally brought BF to his knees. Of course, those who knew him will laugh off such allegations. This was Mr. Smooth and his talents took his attention away from petty issues like that.

And his talents were born of his dreams. When he started to talk about his dreams, there was always a glow about him that was as infectious as it was subtle. The way he joked about, one could easily dismiss what he said as the prattle of an overly excited kid. But he was mature beyond his years. Even as we called him all those names in reference to his idols, he was always P-Tech. The music community came to know him as such.

But maybe they never really got to realise how strongly he had impacted the industry. Up to now, condolence messages are pouring in from all over the world. Even when he is misrepresented in the media, Paul will always remain a shining example to many other entrepreneurs out there. And for the record, Paul didn’t suffer with cancer for 5 years. He suffered for 5 months. It was a rare form of cancer that was supposed to be non fatal. But then we cannot have everything we wish for, can we?

When the time comes for us to meet up in that place that the bards have sang about for eons, maybe we shall sit down and reminisce about so many things. We shall then ask him how he could have foreseen that he had a short time on earth. Because many of us are still waiting for the right time do the things we dream of. Many of us think we still have the time to plan and to make our mistakes and to rise up and dust ourselves up…

Paul probably didn’t think about death when he was setting up musicuganda.com. He was not thinking of dying at 25 when he was setting up his disco for hire. We can however stick our tongues in the face of death and say we beat him square on that one. In 25 short years, Paul had achieved what many Ugandans out there are only dreaming of.

“…pour out a little liquor…” Tupac

Paradigm shifts

Okay, finally, Apollo Milton Obote is off the front pages. The M7 could not stand there and pretend anymore. Probably, as the rest of the country went about it’s celebrations and wailings, the M7 was thinking of a way to push his old nemesis off the front.

And he came up with the perfect one; shuffle the army! Ah ha. So he went and shook up the army. Problem is that he did not really do anything out of the ordinary. So all these generals got new letters to proceed their names, so what?

Nyakairima is the greatest. He stayed up there even after all those bad things that The Red Pepper wrote about him. Proves to the world once again that what the celebrities say is true after all; don’t read the tabloids.

And back to the AM, by the way; do you realize that Obote was from the center of Uganda? Contrary to what we were told as kids, he was not a Northerner. Heck, he is not a Northerner because…how do you refer to the AM in the past tense? He’s more than that garbage about Father of the Nation; he is an institution. Obote will bring the Congress of the People closer in death than he did in the quarter century he was in Lusaka.

Akokoro is situated on Lake Kyoga. It is smack in the middle of the country. Check it out in your atlas. Go on.

Rainy mood

It’s raining and I have to get inside some nook, anywhere. Industrial area does not offer many of those so I am drenched by the time I discover this tiny place. I enter and there’s no announcement of my arrival. Don’t care. All I want is a warm meal and a place to sit.

But the action is unfolding in a queer way. The chicks that are supposed to serve me are looking at me like I am the human equal of chicken pox. I feel like it would be better for me to go back into the rain; maybe I will feel even warmer.

This place must be a private thing; in-crowd and all these beefy guys strutting around in oily overalls. The place has fish smells mixed with car smells and that must be the reason the mechanics like it so much. Or it could be because it is right in their back yard.

The huge blue flies are part of the establishment (which establishment?) and they too seem to be regarding me with suspicion. Who is this new guy who thinks he can just walk into this place and take up space? The level of interaction must be higher than this, surely, on days when I am not here.

The waitress takes her sweet time. But that’s what waitresses do in Uganda. Must be one of the things they learn in Waitressing 101. She drags her feet and sets me thinking of bad things; where has she been just before she walked in? In fact, I saw her coming out of the dark place just over there. And just behind her, a huge guy came out looking sated.

Anyway, when she comes over, she raises her brow and tries to be Dwayne Johnson. Bad stunt. It instead comes off like she is in pain and the source of her ailment in right in the middle of her head. She cannot reach it to rub the pain away and the best she can do is grimace.

“What do you have, Madam waitress?” I ask.

“Emmere eweddewo,” she replies

“Okay what can I have as I wait for the heavens to give up this ridiculous game?”

“Tulina chips n’obunyama.” Now that is scary. Have I come to one of those whispered about places that slaughter all sorts of meat (probably even human) and sell it to their customers then they run and hide behind the blinds and giggle as the customers wolf down the food?

“Okay, since you don’t have proper food, give me that chips and obunyama”

Grate, grate, grate, her slippers go, as she moves back to wherever she came from. I wait and look all around me at the wooden thing under which I am sitting. The wind seems to be on the verge of crushing this thing any time now. Should I wait for the food, really?

Some guy comes in and he asks for food. Sorry mate, you are l.a.t.e. But what do you know? The guy gets a full plate of steaming stuff! Can u believe? I get the bunyama and this bloke gets royal treatment? I’m walking out. I’m protesting…but it’s raining and I stop at the door. Can’t move in this rain. As I turn back to my low bench, my gaze collides with the cruel stare of the waitress. There’s something in her eyes like “Sit your skinny behind down, you punk. You aint going nowhere.”

Stupid in superhero capes

When super hero movies are mentioned these days, there may be a weary look on the faces of many, especially parents, who are expected to take the kids to watch them. Many of the films that have come out of late, maybe apart from The Incredibles, have been different from what we have grown up expecting from the genre. So probably, Sky High should help resurrect the trust the people had in these movies.

Will Stronghold (Michael Angarano), is the son of the greatest super heroes in the world, The Commander and Jetsteam (Kurt Russel and Kelly Preston) and there are a lot of expectations; from his parents and from the world around. He must surely be the ultimate hero, given his father’s super strength and his mother’s flying ability.

But high school comes and Will has not discovered what his real powers are. By the age of fourteen, every kid from a super hero home knows what they can do. What makes it worse is that while many other kids have only one parent as the strong one, Will has two of the best in the world.

Sky High is the new school where the fresher, Will must learn to relate with a whole new set of friends (and foes). Will is first bundled with the nerds or sidekicks, the guys who have lousy powers or (in Will’s case), don’t know their powers. A cafeteria brawl with his bitterest enemy, Warren Peace (Steven Strait) unleashes his real strength. Suddenly, he is not a side kick any more. He is at once one of the most popular kids.

Meanwhile, as this self discovery is happening, there are forces watching Will and his parents, bad guys who have an axe to grind and they want to take a decisive revenge. Also, meanwhile, Will is falling for the wrong girl and ignoring the right girl, who has been right in front of him the whole time.

From the beginning, one gets the sense that they have not come to watch a film in the line of Sideways or The Girl with the Pearl Earring. The cartoonish beginning and the way The Commander and Jetstream dispense of the huge robot that has been terrorising the city will put you in your place. Even Russel seems to be finding it hard to keep the smirk off his face as he goes through the motions.

The costumes in the film (along with the music) are pure 1980s. The only thing they left was probably the hair styles. The super hero capes are ugly, that’s true. Probably, Batman and Spiderman would have a field day laughing at Kurt Russel in that bulky thing he has on. And the colours…okay, this is a film for children.

The allusions to other films are numerous but maybe we, as Ugandans, will mostly see Power Rangers on the silver screen. They even have the annoying sidekick to the main villain, snort and high pitched laughter to boot.

Sky High pushes you back into the Elegant Eighties, yet the story is as fresh as can be. The big theme True, from Spandau Ballet and Everybody Wants to Rule the World got sections of the audience humming, probably thinking of those days long gone.

The young cast is good. They handle their roles well and probably understand what is at stake. Angarano and Strait seem to have a future in the movies. They will be household names before long. It is Kelly Preston who does not really do justice to her role. As a mother, she does not seem really concerned about her son’s insecurities but maybe, that’s what superhero mums are about. This film could start you off on a great week.

Gimme ya number

Progress in life may sometimes make us as primitive as Zinjathropus and the sad thing is that we do not realize it. We applaud every stupid thing that those of us who are looked up to as the geniuses of our race come up with. So when a country makes weapons that are used to obliterate their cousins, we cheer them. We are fighting to get on the cheerleaders’ team.

And we pick up every habit that is written about as the best. This phone number swapping thing, for example. What makes people think that just because Nokia says we should store each and every phone number that we come across, it is true and correct? But then, it doesn’t seem to register that we are going too far with this copying thing. That is why whenever we meet strangers; we think it is the civil thing for us to get their number even when we are never going to call them.

That cool ad on CNN shows this pretty lady leaving on the train and the dude who wanted to talk to her a bit too late. But not to worry, he pulls out his super slim gadget and by remote; he gets her number simply by pointing his in her direction. Cool, huh? I wish the world were that beautiful.

But then ads do not show you the after. We do not get to know if the guy called her up and she turned out to be one of those local babes who go like, “whaaati?” loudly in your ear. Maybe they met the next day and she turned out to be a former Jehovah’s Witness who suddenly decided that she wanted to try out Haitian voodoo. The possibilities are infinite. And we never get to know about all that. Just goes to show you the west has colonized the minds of every able minded person you know who claims to be an enlightened Ugandan.

One thing that is made fun of but which is actually true is that when the cell phone has too many numbers stored, it becomes heavy. I swear! Mine gets heavier every time I add a number. And the weight depends on the gender of the person whose number I am entering. I thought it was all in my head, just as most of you will think, but after carrying out a small research, I realized that it is a hundred percent true; when I enter numbers of men, my phone gets twice as heavy as when I enter female names. Call it kajanja or whatever. I call it new age technology.

Everyone should get such sets. There is a limit to the number of male names that should be in your phonebook. It is not good for your health when there are more than five. There should be space for your dad, your two brothers and your two cousins. Having more than two brothers is a sacrilege. You deserve to be banished to a far away land for trying to tip the scale of nature. Everyone knows that there are supposed to be more females than males in the world. There is a girl everywhere, even on the moon. Ask Lou Bega.

From now on, you must desist from picking up whatever lousy number you come across. Some of them are for lousy networks. There are networks that are an embarrassment to the cell phone owner. These will be the first to be chopped off. Any number that starts with 07… and whatever crazy number that follows will never enter your phone again. This is for your protection. It has been reported that these weak numbers have viruses that could affect your phone and even go further and get to you. Now you don’t want to have some parts of your body transferring to your face. Some things are better left unseen.

But all this could be avoided if you just stopped telling people on the roadside to give you their phone numbers. You would have cut off the menace of beepers and lost–sheep callers who call at midnight to ask for Muzamiru. The only thing that evil needs to thrive is for good men to do nothing.

suprises!!

thought there was something to be awestruck about in this place. found out that there’s none. now i wish i had stayed with that guy’s proposal. anyway, now i have to bring myself down to the level of many of the guys here. man, the editor of this section really has maturity problems. now i think i know why The One did not take the bait when it was dangled in his face.

but if there’s a chance to make a difference in the world, world peace and blah, blah, blah, fast forward to two years from now; i want to be in my own outfit. its a stunt these days to die young. the craze might just catch up with me before i get things out of the way…

doodles

suddenly, there’s the real sound of music in the air. the birds actually make music! i thought it was just some old wives’ tale but they do.

soon i shall be writing again. this stuff thats eating away at my time is soon going to be history. then i can hang with the boys again. Sup, Frank?