-My 18 year old brother threw out his girl friend.
I instantly knew with my sister that she (the girlfriend) must have done something terrible for him to throw her out bse he is the nicest thing we know in the family and beyond. It got us curious and probing, until we discovered what she had done; she had asked for 'some'.
Note to self;
Something must be seriously wrong with my brother so keep an eye on him the next year to be sure all his faculties, especially the sexual ones, are in proper functioning order.
-I think my 13 year old brother is having sex; he's got a girlfriend and my sister says she discovered a stash of porn. mags under his mattress. I can't quite recouncil the the young boy who cried and cringed to his mommy when we dropped him off to begin his senior one about a year ago with the one that has a girlfriend, porn mags and a much deeper (uneven is more like it) voice...
Next year, work on seeing your youngest brother in a more manly and not boyish light, therefore, act more warmly towards his girlfriends, stop grouping him up with the children when there are visitors and maybe stop sneaking up on him to check the age limit for the television programms he watches.
Gonna be one hell a challenge, but hey, he sneaked porn mags past all of us so...
Monday, December 29, 2008
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
"i'm in a hole today....
...and one (the hole) too small to accommodate me
yet i want to curl myself up, until i can all disappear into it"
That's the best way i can explain how i'm feeling like today, although on the outside i seem completely normal; just a bit subdued.
When i mentioned it to my neighbour at work just now, he looked at me like i had taken my clothes off right there in the newsroom with everyone present, then asked,
"have you taken your medication today".
stupid neighbour. At least he made me smile.
So anyway, since the xmas spirit continues to elude me
i have skipped to next year, and I'm right now at that point where you lay down what you want to achieve next year. i don't do that, i never do it; i figure it would only be fair if the year laid before me what it has in store so i could plan along that. but since it doesn't, i dont want to spend it fighting to fit my resolutions into all the unplanned for events. plus, when other people are weeping about the failures in their review reports for the year gone by, i'm comfortable in the jubilation of whatever little i have achieved that i didnt even plan to achieve.
This time round however, there's only one resolution all of you should hold me to;right here, on this blog i shall post a picture of a metal; expensive, shiny, round and all, exactly the size of my left hand middle finger, by the end of 2009. OK, maybe somewhere about mid 2010.
I will need to find that person that can afford it though, and since my choice is only limited to the human male specie, i have a lot of work, and probably fighting, to do; apparently there's more women than men in the world (i see a survival for the fittest situation here; so first step, enrole into a gym).
I'm off looking y'all, greet xmas for me, tell him/her sorry i missed him/her but couldn't wait any longer. i'v a resolution to work towards.
PS: oh by the way girls, i saw him today, he looked hotter than ever, he said hi, lingered about even. i succeeded at not telling him he looked hot and asking him whether he didnt miss me. By a whisker. But I succeeded. THAT COUNTS FOR SOMETHING, RIGHT?
yet i want to curl myself up, until i can all disappear into it"
That's the best way i can explain how i'm feeling like today, although on the outside i seem completely normal; just a bit subdued.
When i mentioned it to my neighbour at work just now, he looked at me like i had taken my clothes off right there in the newsroom with everyone present, then asked,
"have you taken your medication today".
stupid neighbour. At least he made me smile.
So anyway, since the xmas spirit continues to elude me
i have skipped to next year, and I'm right now at that point where you lay down what you want to achieve next year. i don't do that, i never do it; i figure it would only be fair if the year laid before me what it has in store so i could plan along that. but since it doesn't, i dont want to spend it fighting to fit my resolutions into all the unplanned for events. plus, when other people are weeping about the failures in their review reports for the year gone by, i'm comfortable in the jubilation of whatever little i have achieved that i didnt even plan to achieve.
This time round however, there's only one resolution all of you should hold me to;right here, on this blog i shall post a picture of a metal; expensive, shiny, round and all, exactly the size of my left hand middle finger, by the end of 2009. OK, maybe somewhere about mid 2010.
I will need to find that person that can afford it though, and since my choice is only limited to the human male specie, i have a lot of work, and probably fighting, to do; apparently there's more women than men in the world (i see a survival for the fittest situation here; so first step, enrole into a gym).
I'm off looking y'all, greet xmas for me, tell him/her sorry i missed him/her but couldn't wait any longer. i'v a resolution to work towards.
PS: oh by the way girls, i saw him today, he looked hotter than ever, he said hi, lingered about even. i succeeded at not telling him he looked hot and asking him whether he didnt miss me. By a whisker. But I succeeded. THAT COUNTS FOR SOMETHING, RIGHT?
Friday, December 12, 2008
i miss xmas
Right now, my head feels like there is a mountain exploding in the sides but my skull is too thick to let it splatter through so the pressure is all in there
My nose feels harassed My eyes are ablaze Gleaming thru an ashen face and its taking me longer than it should to finish writing this bse i have to reach for my hanky every so often to ease the nose of an unsustainable load
if i were i scientist, i would want to see what features the flu virus has; they must stick out like daggers. must be a furious bugger this virus; tirelessly aiming blow after blow on its victims....
anyway, someone just asked me what i have planned for xmas and i realised i didn't have the slightest clue what. i realised i plan more for my brothers birthday 7 days before xmas than i do for xmas.
but it wasnt always that way
when i was younger, xmas was real; there was the tree which was what i understood as xmas for sometime, the new cloths, knowing mum would be in the kitchen; the guaranteed rice and chicken meal (the xmas one always tested different, good), biscuits, sweets and the festive feeling that came with the xmas visitors
There was xmas then, you felt it in the air without having to plan or make an effort to
Now, when i don't buy myself a new dress no one does, i know the xmas tree for what it really is; a tree with shinny decorations, rice and chicken is not as exciting anymore, and the visitors are all old and bored; none brings u any gifts beyond cards.
where is the grown ups' xmas? what is it? when does this transition btn childhood and adulthood which doesn't seem to have xmas come to pass?
My nose feels harassed My eyes are ablaze Gleaming thru an ashen face and its taking me longer than it should to finish writing this bse i have to reach for my hanky every so often to ease the nose of an unsustainable load
if i were i scientist, i would want to see what features the flu virus has; they must stick out like daggers. must be a furious bugger this virus; tirelessly aiming blow after blow on its victims....
anyway, someone just asked me what i have planned for xmas and i realised i didn't have the slightest clue what. i realised i plan more for my brothers birthday 7 days before xmas than i do for xmas.
but it wasnt always that way
when i was younger, xmas was real; there was the tree which was what i understood as xmas for sometime, the new cloths, knowing mum would be in the kitchen; the guaranteed rice and chicken meal (the xmas one always tested different, good), biscuits, sweets and the festive feeling that came with the xmas visitors
There was xmas then, you felt it in the air without having to plan or make an effort to
Now, when i don't buy myself a new dress no one does, i know the xmas tree for what it really is; a tree with shinny decorations, rice and chicken is not as exciting anymore, and the visitors are all old and bored; none brings u any gifts beyond cards.
where is the grown ups' xmas? what is it? when does this transition btn childhood and adulthood which doesn't seem to have xmas come to pass?
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Recap
This Ex is listed under the category 'I want back in' in my archives. This conversation takes place about three days after I meet his current girlfriend and I succeed at not making a fool of myself (from my point of view anyway);
Me: so, does she know about me?
Ex: she does but she only put face to name that day
(After an awkward silence)
Ex: does he know about me?
Me: yes he does. Did she talk about meeting me?
Ex: Yes. She thought you were pretty
Me: Imagine. How did you guys get to discussing my looks?
Ex: she saw you and went 'is that the ‘SilverBow’?', and am like yep. then she said 'I think she is hot'. And am like I know but you are hotter
Me: do you believe that? Or were you just being nice to your girlfriend and mean to your ex?
Ex: You are hot, but man, I don’t want to be caught giving you compliments in her face. I bet you know what I be talking about
what i really bet is that he didn't want to be complimenting her to my face either. or should i be revelling in this compliment? do you figure there is any hope here for me?
Me: so, does she know about me?
Ex: she does but she only put face to name that day
(After an awkward silence)
Ex: does he know about me?
Me: yes he does. Did she talk about meeting me?
Ex: Yes. She thought you were pretty
Me: Imagine. How did you guys get to discussing my looks?
Ex: she saw you and went 'is that the ‘SilverBow’?', and am like yep. then she said 'I think she is hot'. And am like I know but you are hotter
Me: do you believe that? Or were you just being nice to your girlfriend and mean to your ex?
Ex: You are hot, but man, I don’t want to be caught giving you compliments in her face. I bet you know what I be talking about
what i really bet is that he didn't want to be complimenting her to my face either. or should i be revelling in this compliment? do you figure there is any hope here for me?
Monday, December 8, 2008
can't figure out a title for this one
Right here should be an exciting post
telling of my great weekend; action packed party on Friday,
shopping with one of my favorite people in the world on Saturday
and a cool day in on Sunday
Only if i still had my wallet and all the money I so painstakingly saved
to buy myself 'something' i needed so badly,
converting it to foreign currency so I couldn't spend it
I fail to make up my mind which hurts the most;
-that a person i took pity on and used their service so i could pay them rewarded me by taking off with my wallet
-or that he was actually able to take it from right under my nose without me noticing
-or that i was stupid enough to be walking around with that much money on me; not for a day, or a week, but a long enough time to even ponder what would happen if i lost my wallet.
The only thing that consoles me now is the one thing i had been beating myself about before i lost everything;
that i had actually spent some of that money on completely unnecessary stuff. At least that means the burger is about shs.100,000 less.
telling of my great weekend; action packed party on Friday,
shopping with one of my favorite people in the world on Saturday
and a cool day in on Sunday
Only if i still had my wallet and all the money I so painstakingly saved
to buy myself 'something' i needed so badly,
converting it to foreign currency so I couldn't spend it
I fail to make up my mind which hurts the most;
-that a person i took pity on and used their service so i could pay them rewarded me by taking off with my wallet
-or that he was actually able to take it from right under my nose without me noticing
-or that i was stupid enough to be walking around with that much money on me; not for a day, or a week, but a long enough time to even ponder what would happen if i lost my wallet.
The only thing that consoles me now is the one thing i had been beating myself about before i lost everything;
that i had actually spent some of that money on completely unnecessary stuff. At least that means the burger is about shs.100,000 less.
Friday, December 5, 2008
To win or Bless a soul
At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves children with learning disabilities, one father told the story below about Shay, his mentally and physically disabled son;
"Shay and I had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, 'Do you think they'll let me play?'
I knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but as a father I also understood that if my son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps.
I approached one of the boys on the field and asked (not expecting much) if Shay could play. The boy looked around for guidance and said, 'We're losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning.'
Shay struggled over to the team's bench and, with a broad smile, put on a team shirt. I watched with a small tear in my eye and warmth in my heart. The boys saw my joy at my son being accepted.
In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as I waved to him from the stands.
In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay's team scored again.
Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat. At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game?
Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible because Shay didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball. However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing that the other team was putting winning aside for this moment in Shay's life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least make contact.
The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed.
The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay.
As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher. The game would now be over. The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman.
Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game.
Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the first baseman's head, out of reach of all team mates. Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, 'Shay, run to first!
Run to first!'
Never in his life had Shay ever run that far, but he made it to first base. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled. Everyone yelled, 'Run to second, run to second!'
Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to the base.
By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball . the smallest guy on their team who now had his first chance to be the hero for his team.
He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher's intentions so he, too, intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman's head. Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home. All were screaming, 'Shay, Shay, Shay, all the Way Shay'. Shay reached third base because the opposing shortstop ran to help him by turning him in the direction of third
base, and shouted, 'Run to third! Shay, run to third!'
As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams, and the spectators, were on their feet screaming, 'Shay, run home! Run home!'
Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the grand slam and won the game for his team
'That day', said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, 'the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world'."
Shay didn't make it to another summer. He died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making me so happy, and coming home and seeing his Mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!
Now, one question; Would you have made the same choice?
Disclaimer;
i wasn't at this fundraiser, and in fact, i didnt even hear it from someone from that dinner; someone forwarded it to my email and after reading it i didnt know what else to do other than share it with as many people as possible.
bse like this father said prior to this anecdote, 'when a child like Shay, mentally and physically disabled, comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes in the way other people treat that child.'
"Shay and I had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, 'Do you think they'll let me play?'
I knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but as a father I also understood that if my son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps.
I approached one of the boys on the field and asked (not expecting much) if Shay could play. The boy looked around for guidance and said, 'We're losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning.'
Shay struggled over to the team's bench and, with a broad smile, put on a team shirt. I watched with a small tear in my eye and warmth in my heart. The boys saw my joy at my son being accepted.
In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as I waved to him from the stands.
In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay's team scored again.
Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat. At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game?
Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible because Shay didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball. However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing that the other team was putting winning aside for this moment in Shay's life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least make contact.
The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed.
The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay.
As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher. The game would now be over. The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman.
Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game.
Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the first baseman's head, out of reach of all team mates. Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, 'Shay, run to first!
Run to first!'
Never in his life had Shay ever run that far, but he made it to first base. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled. Everyone yelled, 'Run to second, run to second!'
Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to the base.
By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball . the smallest guy on their team who now had his first chance to be the hero for his team.
He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher's intentions so he, too, intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman's head. Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home. All were screaming, 'Shay, Shay, Shay, all the Way Shay'. Shay reached third base because the opposing shortstop ran to help him by turning him in the direction of third
base, and shouted, 'Run to third! Shay, run to third!'
As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams, and the spectators, were on their feet screaming, 'Shay, run home! Run home!'
Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the grand slam and won the game for his team
'That day', said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, 'the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world'."
Shay didn't make it to another summer. He died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making me so happy, and coming home and seeing his Mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!
Now, one question; Would you have made the same choice?
Disclaimer;
i wasn't at this fundraiser, and in fact, i didnt even hear it from someone from that dinner; someone forwarded it to my email and after reading it i didnt know what else to do other than share it with as many people as possible.
bse like this father said prior to this anecdote, 'when a child like Shay, mentally and physically disabled, comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes in the way other people treat that child.'
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
abomination
Having spent a whole six years of secondary school education in a muslim school, living among the Holy people of Mohammed, i didnt need to read this story to know how many astagafurahis must have flown in the air the moment the forbidden creature appeared in their midst.
In their HOLY Place!????!!!! Man. That pig wasnt serious!
And God forbid if the chaser was stupid enough to follow the creature into the Mosque.
I can't read this story; i cant take the misery of a man loosing his 'things' unwillingly.
Anyone have enough guts to read it?
What happened?
Extract from The New Vision, saturday 30th (or 31st November 2008, kampala-uganda
Friday, November 28, 2008
BHH
Hiii all,
I’m that stranger that appeared from nowhere at the last BHH. That skinny thingy with a small cute head? A ka-female-ish? Yah, that’s me. I have no idea what we were supposed to be doing at BHH, or if there’s anything specific we were supposed to be doing anyway other than supporting the Mountain Dew cause, but I was there and I was observing; first the guys, then the girls, then the guys.
So, there’s these two things that have been bothering me, more like I have been wondering about them really, and mostly because they are likely to affect my way of life;
This whole thing about all the females (girls, women etc), at Blogville looking like they each walked straight off a Cosmo issue; I’m supposed to believe it is all coincidence, right? Or is there some vetoing process I’m yet to be subjected to before I can officially reside in this ville?
Someone better tell me soon enough so I can start to work towards that interview because I most definitely have a long walk ahead.
Then, Blogville is Hook-up Ville, right?
So where does that leave me, the new comer? Are there any new single males ( males alone) joining the club or do I have to seduce someone off someone else to belong?
I would need to start fundraising for apparatus for the latter purpose.
I need answers. I feel like I am about to have a personality transplant for joining the Ville so you guys at the least owe me prior warning.
I’m that stranger that appeared from nowhere at the last BHH. That skinny thingy with a small cute head? A ka-female-ish? Yah, that’s me. I have no idea what we were supposed to be doing at BHH, or if there’s anything specific we were supposed to be doing anyway other than supporting the Mountain Dew cause, but I was there and I was observing; first the guys, then the girls, then the guys.
So, there’s these two things that have been bothering me, more like I have been wondering about them really, and mostly because they are likely to affect my way of life;
This whole thing about all the females (girls, women etc), at Blogville looking like they each walked straight off a Cosmo issue; I’m supposed to believe it is all coincidence, right? Or is there some vetoing process I’m yet to be subjected to before I can officially reside in this ville?
Someone better tell me soon enough so I can start to work towards that interview because I most definitely have a long walk ahead.
Then, Blogville is Hook-up Ville, right?
So where does that leave me, the new comer? Are there any new single males ( males alone) joining the club or do I have to seduce someone off someone else to belong?
I would need to start fundraising for apparatus for the latter purpose.
I need answers. I feel like I am about to have a personality transplant for joining the Ville so you guys at the least owe me prior warning.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
a tale of three friends
Friend A (on the left);
1. A small man, much smaller in real life than i can
illustrate in a picture.
2. attracted to B
Friend B (on the right above);
1. Hot
2. unavailable
Not to worry though because;
1.B had another friend, C, who;
2. was available
3. B was sure would be interested in meeting A.
So;
B would be sure to bring C along the next time, so they could hook up with A.
And she did bring her along.
A however took one look at C and took off without even saying hullo.
Ladies and gentlemen, Friend C (in black below) who was supposed to hook up with A above;
1. A small man, much smaller in real life than i can
illustrate in a picture.
2. attracted to B
Friend B (on the right above);
1. Hot
2. unavailable
Not to worry though because;
1.B had another friend, C, who;
2. was available
3. B was sure would be interested in meeting A.
So;
B would be sure to bring C along the next time, so they could hook up with A.
And she did bring her along.
A however took one look at C and took off without even saying hullo.
Ladies and gentlemen, Friend C (in black below) who was supposed to hook up with A above;
ok seriously, how 'hot' do you think B's brains are? or not hot.
PS: I swear this is no work of fiction.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
competition
In 1994
In one of the 'cream' boys' schools in this country
through which a good number of the men that rule this land have come;
A group of young men
stood in a line in the bathroom
most evenings after classes
with all they have in them drawn.
They were in a competition
There was no trophy to take home
but still it mattered to win
Reputation's sake i guess.
I imagine
each of them standing head thrown back
gadget in hand
neck, arm and thigh muscles sticking out
and probably gleaming with sweat for those
who had prepared for the competition,
breath held, eyes closed in concetration
Waiting for the start whistle to go off.
And each putting their best skills to work
to be the one that cums first.
They were in a wanking competition.
I know some of these men today
You do too. You just cant imagine them at it
In one of the 'cream' boys' schools in this country
through which a good number of the men that rule this land have come;
A group of young men
stood in a line in the bathroom
most evenings after classes
with all they have in them drawn.
They were in a competition
There was no trophy to take home
but still it mattered to win
Reputation's sake i guess.
I imagine
each of them standing head thrown back
gadget in hand
neck, arm and thigh muscles sticking out
and probably gleaming with sweat for those
who had prepared for the competition,
breath held, eyes closed in concetration
Waiting for the start whistle to go off.
And each putting their best skills to work
to be the one that cums first.
They were in a wanking competition.
I know some of these men today
You do too. You just cant imagine them at it
Thursday, October 30, 2008
My patients are dying
I’m a writer
It’s my profession; it’s what I do for a living
In my own way I’d like to believe that
I offer healing, soothing, encouragement, inspiration
I influence justice…
In my own way as a published writer I try
I have sat across from a child not so much older than I that has courted death every waking hour. Knowing he would never be called daddy, hubby, grandpa
Living each second with the knowledge that he was dying
http://www.monitor.co.ug/artman/publish/health-and-living/With_leukaemia_everyday_is_a_miracle_71666.shtml
I have wiped the tears off another young woman’s cheek
who in her prime woke up to find each of the bricks she'd so carefully laid to build her life
In a heap at her feet http://www.monitor.co.ug/artman/publish/health-and-living/The_Rhesus_factor_One_lady_s_devastating_experience_65838.shtml
My heart has gone out to them and their likes As I listened Knowing that in my own way
I was easing their pain Letting them vent Calling out to the world to hear and help out
It was the least I could do
These people become my patients.
And I have failed them sometimes
Despite the number of those on whose faces I have put a smile
Whose minds I have eased of their worries even if for a while
reassuring them They were not alone They would be fine,
There were patients that have come through my 'hospital ward' and not made it back to their loved ones Better Healthier Happier
There are those patients I have worked on
And they have died
The 21 year old heart patient who died the eve of the day he was supposed to be discharged from his heart surgery ward Just a few hours after I had laughed with him on phone and promised to call in the next morning before he was discharged
And more recently, http://www.monitor.co.ug/artman/publish/news/Man_shot_by_CMI_guard_dies_at_Mulago_73922.shtml
These are the people that remain with me always
It is more about those people I’m given the opportunity to touch
And yet they slip right through my hands without warning and they are lost forever
At these times I feel like a doctor who has lost a patient
And it breaks my heart
It’s my profession; it’s what I do for a living
In my own way I’d like to believe that
I offer healing, soothing, encouragement, inspiration
I influence justice…
In my own way as a published writer I try
I have sat across from a child not so much older than I that has courted death every waking hour. Knowing he would never be called daddy, hubby, grandpa
Living each second with the knowledge that he was dying
http://www.monitor.co.ug/artman/publish/health-and-living/With_leukaemia_everyday_is_a_miracle_71666.shtml
I have wiped the tears off another young woman’s cheek
who in her prime woke up to find each of the bricks she'd so carefully laid to build her life
In a heap at her feet http://www.monitor.co.ug/artman/publish/health-and-living/The_Rhesus_factor_One_lady_s_devastating_experience_65838.shtml
My heart has gone out to them and their likes As I listened Knowing that in my own way
I was easing their pain Letting them vent Calling out to the world to hear and help out
It was the least I could do
These people become my patients.
And I have failed them sometimes
Despite the number of those on whose faces I have put a smile
Whose minds I have eased of their worries even if for a while
reassuring them They were not alone They would be fine,
There were patients that have come through my 'hospital ward' and not made it back to their loved ones Better Healthier Happier
There are those patients I have worked on
And they have died
The 21 year old heart patient who died the eve of the day he was supposed to be discharged from his heart surgery ward Just a few hours after I had laughed with him on phone and promised to call in the next morning before he was discharged
And more recently, http://www.monitor.co.ug/artman/publish/news/Man_shot_by_CMI_guard_dies_at_Mulago_73922.shtml
These are the people that remain with me always
It is more about those people I’m given the opportunity to touch
And yet they slip right through my hands without warning and they are lost forever
At these times I feel like a doctor who has lost a patient
And it breaks my heart
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Saving virginity Losing face
The first time I received a love letter
It was from a senior one student
I was in primary five
The house girl found me on the verandah crying
“I would like to have sex with you”
The last line in the letter had read
Sex was wrong but even scarier
How dare he even suggest it
House girl laughed at me and I was puzzled
But he said he wanted to….
I argued
So? she countered
It’s up to you to say yes or no
Two years down the road
I was wiser
I’m not ready
I would always say to my S.3 dude
Whenever he asked for some
So dude
Who had been patient with me for about a year
Lost his patience and called me in one day
Again, Seriously this time
he asked for some
I’m not ready, again I said
When you say you are not ready
What exactly do you mean? Is there some thing you need to do, buy?
Some kind of ritual you need to do to prepare yourself
I can sit here or step out while you get yourself ready
I may not have been old enough at 12 to defend my stand
But I had enough brains to know that I had come to the end of this rope
And had to move on
Fast
I took off
from right before his eyes
As if the devil was right at my heels
and didnt stop until I was safely locked in my room at home with my V. intact and safe
Never saw dude again
I made sure of it
I also never stopped imagining him trashing me to his friends either.
It was from a senior one student
I was in primary five
The house girl found me on the verandah crying
“I would like to have sex with you”
The last line in the letter had read
Sex was wrong but even scarier
How dare he even suggest it
House girl laughed at me and I was puzzled
But he said he wanted to….
I argued
So? she countered
It’s up to you to say yes or no
Two years down the road
I was wiser
I’m not ready
I would always say to my S.3 dude
Whenever he asked for some
So dude
Who had been patient with me for about a year
Lost his patience and called me in one day
Again, Seriously this time
he asked for some
I’m not ready, again I said
When you say you are not ready
What exactly do you mean? Is there some thing you need to do, buy?
Some kind of ritual you need to do to prepare yourself
I can sit here or step out while you get yourself ready
I may not have been old enough at 12 to defend my stand
But I had enough brains to know that I had come to the end of this rope
And had to move on
Fast
I took off
from right before his eyes
As if the devil was right at my heels
and didnt stop until I was safely locked in my room at home with my V. intact and safe
Never saw dude again
I made sure of it
I also never stopped imagining him trashing me to his friends either.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Damned toilet cleaner
'Good beginnings guarantee higher chances for good endings'
that is what i believe
At least as far as the weeks are concerned
Normally therefore
I literally waltz into the new week
Grinning from ear to ear whether i feel like it or not
Stacked high with enough gusto to take me through the week
It’s not every Monday however that first thing in the morning I get my Jeans smeared in sludge on my way to work
Or that the stupid taxi driver sees it fit to drop me off
A zillion miles away from the park where i need to catch my next taxi
Knowing well that I can’t take a boda boda because of the mud.
Or that I walk in to do a story I was assigned at the last moment
By force
With a break neck deadline to go with it
Let’s just say
I got in here before 8am today and the only person
I have genuinely smiled at is the toilet cleaner
Because I hit her with the toilet door
What the hell was she doing behind the door anyway?
Can’t she find a way of cleaning behind it without being behind it?
(seething with fury, baring my teeth and claws. stay away)
that is what i believe
At least as far as the weeks are concerned
Normally therefore
I literally waltz into the new week
Grinning from ear to ear whether i feel like it or not
Stacked high with enough gusto to take me through the week
It’s not every Monday however that first thing in the morning I get my Jeans smeared in sludge on my way to work
Or that the stupid taxi driver sees it fit to drop me off
A zillion miles away from the park where i need to catch my next taxi
Knowing well that I can’t take a boda boda because of the mud.
Or that I walk in to do a story I was assigned at the last moment
By force
With a break neck deadline to go with it
Let’s just say
I got in here before 8am today and the only person
I have genuinely smiled at is the toilet cleaner
Because I hit her with the toilet door
What the hell was she doing behind the door anyway?
Can’t she find a way of cleaning behind it without being behind it?
(seething with fury, baring my teeth and claws. stay away)
Thursday, October 23, 2008
i have a plan
when i am not talking verbally
i am still talking;
with and to my brain
i guess its what u call thinking in your dialect.
for all the silent talk i do with my brain however
i find i have never really come up with any brilliant ideas!
and i have come to suspect it could be because
all i do with my brain is reminisce;
about the nonsense i have verbally discussed already
laughed at or gotten pissed off about
and crap like that
so i figured that if i could empty this nut of all this nonsense
there would probably be room for new,
and hopefully brilliant ideas.
so here is the deal;
i will do all this non-verbal talk here
with my fingers against the keyboard
and hopefully, i wont have to rethink what i have already typed!
Brilliant(already) huh, what do u think?
so anyway
whenever we meet here
it will be because I'm either
awfully pissed, overjoyed or flat out bored
it will be that you are sharing in my non verbal conversation
and I'm emptying my nonsense into your head
to create room for brilliancy in mine.
I cant wait.
Welcome!
i am still talking;
with and to my brain
i guess its what u call thinking in your dialect.
for all the silent talk i do with my brain however
i find i have never really come up with any brilliant ideas!
and i have come to suspect it could be because
all i do with my brain is reminisce;
about the nonsense i have verbally discussed already
laughed at or gotten pissed off about
and crap like that
so i figured that if i could empty this nut of all this nonsense
there would probably be room for new,
and hopefully brilliant ideas.
so here is the deal;
i will do all this non-verbal talk here
with my fingers against the keyboard
and hopefully, i wont have to rethink what i have already typed!
Brilliant(already) huh, what do u think?
so anyway
whenever we meet here
it will be because I'm either
awfully pissed, overjoyed or flat out bored
it will be that you are sharing in my non verbal conversation
and I'm emptying my nonsense into your head
to create room for brilliancy in mine.
I cant wait.
Welcome!
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)