A poets Bridge

Its  tragic to what happened to my iconright  here at my nose strings. Ijust heard that Uganda is now being called " that thing"  and then i wonder, how many things cangive you hieghts here in my mother land?

Once thing for sure, every five people you meetin this capital, one person knows a weed dealer or consumer.

Us the social rites do know that our artistshave at most doen a good public relations of what heights one can have withweed, some say it boosts confidence... so they get all blazed for their fans, butme a fan, never really like what these guys do under influence while onstage... atleast you too have seen a moment...

from the time when Jam session at the only goodpublic theater was haulted because the crowd at the time not only smoked weedbut started to through microphones around each others as some fought.

The funny thing is that to Iryne, only coolpeople are the ones who take weed. at our first meeting, because i weardreadlocks, i was wearing a skirt at that time and she said that i dont look akind who wears  skirts. I smiled atit and blushed it off... Later in the day, she said she had some weed andwondered if i wanted to smoke with her.

We were seated by the camp fire on the shoresof lake victoria. when i asked where it was for me to try...! she said i hadnow registered in her cool list. This to me came as a suprise!  which cool list? i asked

"To every one who wears dreadlocks, its cool, to those who wearcasual *jeans and moccasines ... thats a cool list and those who smoke weed! thatsa better cool character" she replied

*i never got to finish this article. but this kind is what is featured in the column in the Life ,Magazine "Dimensions" or Women about town... dont judge me. its the society that i write about

The Agony of being human

Such a word forgiveness is so strong

Such a word forgiveness though right is so hard…to embrace

The lies of life flow into our heart’s vessel like a tea drop

There goes the…wicked smiles of malicious people dinning with our good people

The glasses tossing. Wines popping

Little do we know we are dinning with the one planning a coup de-tat

Ask Obote 1. His copse still grabbles to why he ever trusted Amin for general.

My mind just slid at the thunderstorm strikes

Depopulating owls that found refugee from the palm tree

All human lost. We hear that the rains have begun

Always carry your rain coats’’ the astrologists advise.

The blood streams through my medullar fast.

Popping my head gears in pain

Extracting my energy…denying my visual functions…replaying on my visual images of 2010.uganda.

To those times the sun was our witness; saw Teso complain of jiggers.

The politician lobbies for the area to be declared a national disaster.

We both know they don’t care…they want to use the opportunity

To get rich by the donor money for They fund in dollars

That’s when you hear of another Luwero triangle

Another Luwero massacre

In the moments when we remember the victims of Luwero triangle

The Government peace talks spark Green

Our children have been crippled

Our children have been murdered

Our children turned into solders

That’s when the law says make peace with the rebel

Death seems to be the ear beats of the LRA

Kony seems to revenge on his own people

Instead of fighting the war load… the law says you have got to make peace talks.

Peace….and talks….p…e…a…c…e with that who massacred a 1000women

With that who raped, battled and killed our young generation…

Such a word forgiveness is so strong

Such a word forgiveness though right is so hard…to embrace.

That can pass… time has passed…then we receive a death bill on sexuality

I go dumb.

The blood streams through my medulla fast.

Popping my head gears in pain

Extracting my energy…denying my visual functions…replaying on my visual images of 2010.Uganda.

 A baby has been born in Bududa

Glory washed away by the mad slides…politicians call them… people slides

Hats buried with their landlords. Now the tenants are relieved of a month’s pay

The politician says we should strike against the provisions by the government

So what will we use if we strike?

Red Cross supplying basics… fought by the locals

Two Local leaders imprisoned for embezzling relief property

So what were they doing with the government’s funds of pre-Bududa people slides?

My guess is a vice grows beyond taming as exposure enriches.

To some we wonder what happened to our weather man?

As the daylight seizes to being.

Sees our sisters parading on street corners awaiting for servicing brothers

The nights work brings on pregnant sisters…the marrieds demanding for a redLight district.

Their customers in parliament deny of their importance and so do the general public- if that doesn’t include me and you

Instead of tabling issues that we know have been a result of poverty.

Why don’t we empower the citizens to do away with the vices?

Let me not remind you of your role in society…to yourself…to the world

If I can be what they tell me to be for money then Africa needs to halt…and check its surrounding’s impacts before calling for more donors.

Such a word forgiveness is so strong

Such a word forgiveness though right is so hard…to embrace

Before dawn a sexuality question is tabled.

I keep my mouth shut!!!!!!!!!!

The blood streams through my medullar fast.

Popping my head gears in pain

Extracting my energy…denying my visual functions…replaying on my visual images of 2010.uganda.

The freedom of speech…the freedom of media.

Elections boycott…electro being slandered.

The opposition not learning from their mistakes

Still over looking at the law .the same law they say they will protect when voted in power.

I wonder what 2011 will bring.

Coz though we need a new face.

Will the new face bring anything new to my menu?

I have my knees bow down to the pulpit

Can’t seem to erase the wild hands panting my face

And one two three of them racing on me apart

My tears dropping down my cheek.

One for my sisters killed at the race

Another for my other sister murdered for not giving in to the race

The other for Peace….one love

Such a word forgiveness is so strong

Such a word forgiveness though right is so hard…to embrace

The blood streams through my medullar fast.

Popping my head gears in pain

Extracting my energy…denying my visual functions…replaying on my visual images of 2010.uganda.

Earlylife Radio is a new online platform i have created to bring together young people all over Africa and the World to share ideas through getting involved in citizen journalism.

Earlylife Radio has already started operating and is a nominee of the Young Achievers Awards 2011 which were presided over by the President of Rwanda and Uganda His Excellence. Robert Kagame and Yoweri K Museveni Respectively.

Soon, the platform is expanding to other continents... You too are welcome to join us by visitng www.earlyliferadio.com

more links to my Weekend Column in Monitor (Life Magazine) at http://mobile.monitor.co.ug/Life/-/1055104/1283526/-/format/xhtml/-/y7o43l/-/index.html

http://mobile.monitor.co.ug/Life/-/1055104/1301196/-/format/xhtml/-/jvi1hdz/-/index.html

http://www.monitor.co.ug/artsculture/Relationships/-/691230/1305848/-/dbplk8/-/index.html

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A heart Crash into a Crush.

All first times come in a flash

Its feels verge

Immature sometimes

Or even crazy to some

But my first time i knew it was just like

Any other attractions to the masculine

Or his affirmations in his speech.

And like all first times i hint it off my mind

‘Now i am thinking like a piece of cramp’ and it flashed

The night was a recap of the day

A knock at my door, his entry and my blushing face

His face lowering for his lips to touch mine.

Then the alarm clock. Its 7:30.

And i don't want to be late for another session

I guess second days are a bit confusing

With mixed thoughts of... was it happening ?

Would it happen? What if it happened?

Another flash of ‘ït's just an illussion’.

The day light passed with out a sight of the him

In the evening; he sat by the barbeque

His fork switching from his plate to his mouth

And as he sipped on his Club Beer.

He let his hands massage through his hair

‘did he notice me watching him?’

My eyes turned to the Nile beer in my hands

I sipped it to its last drop and knew it was time for my Me moments

Of tossing and turning in my bed

Of roaming up and about

Waiting on for something...eventually nothing.

And the logging dreams that saw me exhausted by day light

 To see his calm,polite and grateful face again

As if nothing was happening? At least not to me.

Day three...day four... and i knew this was a mind crush

And all the same...i had to flash it off with Gost ship

And all the horrors i watched before my dreams switched

From the holds and folds to the scolds and Blood.

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Inspired by the East African Youth Media workshop 2010 BY Open society Initiative for East Africa The rhythm of life is so theoretical even to the times people say we learn from it. Those that have lived many years than me will still tell you that you cant understand life’s ways.  This has made me to believe that life is an art not a science. You live it creatively even with different kinds of thesis, you will never solve the puzzle. You will die still wondering why things happen the way they do. My advice is; don’t try to know. Just blindly live your life. I have always educed my mind to thinking that I couldn’t sit fo

r more than an hour listening to a lecture. Don’t ask me how I did i it through my school times. Either way I managed unharmed.

Some times one doesn’t recognise the changes happening to one not until they give it a thought.

Half of my 10years in child hood I spent them thinking, less play and meditating with my imaginations. 10 more years spent living moments…having the enthusiasm of nature, its life and people. I always looked on meeting new people, making new friends…which meant I never cared about keeping the friends. It was never quality but quantity.

My first 20’s saw me meditating once more.

Evaluating on my life’s goals of my 20 years living and creating a force with in me to have an achievement by my 21st birthday.

I must recognise the inspirations I received from Hilda Twongyeirwe…who encouraged me to keep writing and contributing to Uganda women writers association of which I am a member. Through FEMRITE I met the Lantern meet of poets and Bavubuka Foundation.

For the first time, I had achieved something of worth to my legacy.

The new media simplified my networking with other international writer groups where I was able to make my publications with in their anthologies by the time I celebrated my 21 birthday.

Whenever I memorise the achievements that I have made with in one year,its like a dream come true. This has made me to believe that life is about that moment when you make an affirmative, stretched step

I must say every other more year traces from the lay back character in me and the loose free other me.

That’s gets me back to my Media moments: From the time during my primary four when the eclipse of the sun occurred. The science teacher told us that it was because a high ranking officer in the devils network was on trial. I turned to whisper to my friend what I had listened over the BBC about eclipse of the sun. I was spotted. Mr. Musa demanded to hear what I was to tell my friend; I earned myself kneeling in front of the class for the rest of his session.

 To the time I was in my senior two, the head teacher beat me for not reading “Think big” by Cason since it was a rule that it was a must read by every student. Little did I know that my reading culture had just begun, with the added punishment of dusting the computer lab… it added to my knowledge of computer with typing in Microsoft and playing games.

 This added to the many awards I got through my junior level with reading. My parents though teachers, they always had more time for other peoples kids compared to me and my brother. The only time I read was in front of the mid 30 year old woman who revised with me and my brother. The reading processes would be filled with fear for any mistake made would earn me 2minite handful squeeze to my ears. I must say though rough, it worked .Now, I don’t only read but write too.

My brother Aloysius has always been keen with new technology; he helped me open my first accounts on yahoo and my space on my 16th birthday. This was seconded with computer lessons he offered me every evening he got home by 21 hours. I miss the argument that would arise if I wanted to chat at the time he wanted to use his computer to the times when he got mad at me for being a slow learner in Microsoft excels.

I have always been a fan of jerry Springer show ever since I watched a Briton fail to spell a word “bitch” to beach. I too was a bit spectacle to have to seat with my dad and watch people make a fool out of them selves…which to Jerry its expressing ones emotions…and then I got hooked, reality TV is now part of my favorite sport apart from Tennis.

Gone is the time my first article was discarded by a news paper and to be published by another. This improved my confidence in writing. Three years later my first poem “Home” was published in a FEMRITE anthology farming ashes which followed a great deal of other publications locally and internationally.

I now look forward to having more knowledge in writing, debating and “how to make Video and Audio”

By 14 days I will proudly see these days as my other life’s media journey remembered.

(memories By 0SEA) some of my publications are in; 

Farming Ashes,

Talking Tales,

Tolking tales,

A Dream in the Clouds,

Common Ground Review;summer issue 2009,

The Butterfly Dance,

www.neteral.com

www.sonicelectic.com

skype me:monieg3

You can find me on Twitter,Scribd,skype and Facebook

Board it, you will know the latest slags in down town,like maso awo meaning right  in front- but if you don't know the term ,you might think it means stop cause this ranges for one taxi driver to another.

my friend  Cannan was just setting in for up country and her first time she heard maso-awo ,the taxi stopped.

then she wanted to give it a try,the driver continued past  her junction then she said stop.

it did stop!

i then noticed that man keeps his or her mind in motion and every thing that comes up doesn't necessarily mean the same to every one in society for those that initiated that particular thing.

The mind is diverse.

so stop taking things for grated or you will find your self eating mold when you asked for dodo.

yesterday i got my self laughing when my taxi was in a jam as we reached Nakawa junction,the driver moved out to the side of the road to ease him self as the world watched.

it was 4:00pm,i guess to him it was already 9:00 pm but hu...llo, he went on and un zipped his trousers and let his way out "they say its their freedom for expression" but even to our green grass?

we watched in amazement .

when he was done he came back running.

at that time the cars behind were hooting for the taxi had been parked in the middle of the road.

he was lucky that kayihura's men did not have an eye on him to put him behind bars.

thank God i managed to reach home safely.

come on! i know you know this!

today i saw some thing that caught my eye.

that guy that will hand pick what was left in his tooth with his hands and then spit it at the neighbors back with out him noticing.

then, he nose picked to remove what was left and smeared the remains to the taxi seat.

why are people so ungrateful ,i wondered.

i guess the guy was so comfortable because he stated on a topic when he saw the guys who sell sugar canes along the road side" a bo= don't they have any thing to do"

and when we so some girls dressed to kill,there he smiled and said

"campus girls are back to kill us"

what is this guy talking about?

he is shit!

It’s not an every day thing that you can get access to a plate of food at only 1000 ugsh.

The Saturday of 11th July 2009, I and my friends couldn’t help the aroma that reached our nostrils .we decided to enter one kiosk along Kira road police station.At first we were not sure where the scent came from till one of the attendants called out on us!

Banyabo emele e’ lyeno’ (ladies, the food is in here) she said

We entered the small room with tinny benches and sat opposite each other.

Where I was seated I could see the view of the kitchen, then a woman appeared in a red wrapper and slippers to take our orders.It reminded me of a place in Jinja I had visited where menus were laid out on the tables for customers but they only had one meal available; matooke and beans

This time it was matooke, posho with gnuts.

Life couldn’t get worse after serving two plates; she broke it to me and jenny that the food was finished

“Banyabo wasigadeyo kawunga” (ladies, food is over but we are remaining with posho)

 ‘Did she think one would order posho with no sauce?’ we smiled it off and told her we were okay with the two plates

We asked her if it was possible for us to buy food from another place but she assured us that she was the only one with the food!

 ‘What time do people around here eat?’ I wondered. It was just 1:35 pm.

I watched my friends eat their share and we got out of the place with great memories.

‘Kiosk! I am coming back, this time at mid day.

 Thanks to Harriet, Jenny and Alal for making the day colorful.

 Compiled by Grace A., Harriet M. and Jennifer O.

For quite some time Ugandans have been classified to be bad readers and so we became reluctant to write.

Literature lovers have to struggle to get audience from their own country as organizations like FEMRITE (Uganda Women Writers Association) started to equip Ugandan women with skills of writing

The first books were inspirations of the experiences of the different women in the country and with time the writers formed the readers club which included both males and females with no age limit to come together, encourage, read and critic their writing materials.

 This resulted into the poster project with the publications of these meet up writers’ poetry to the first phase of Painted voices vol.one for 2008/2009.

It was a small volume with the fusion of art and poetry collection.Then painted voices second volume was published and launched in January to run in the period of 2009/2010

This has a bigger volume of the collection of art and poetry.      

then the embrace of Justice ogoolas launch!!!

Justice James Ogoola’s poetry book ‘The Songs of Paradise’: A Harvest of Poetry and Verse was launched on Friday at Serena Kampala Hotel.

‘AT his birth, the heavens grinned; a graceful grin," reads the opening line of one of the poems.It contains 52 poems and explores themes of humanity, love, justice, and governance.

“Songs of paradise is a journey of life. The life of a man with a lot of experience,” Dr John Kalema, a former lecturer at Makerere University and a friend of Justice Ogoola, said at the launch. The selected poems for the reading sessions reflected a variety of life's experiences, challenges and values.

 ‘Whenever Ogoola's literary muse sneezes, many catch a cold’. Justice Ogoola is the Principle Judge of Uganda and a Judge on both the COMESA and the East African Courts of Justice

 Prime Minister Prof. Apollo Nsibambi, who was the chief guest, complimented Justice Ogoola on his versatility and contribution to the reading culture of Uganda. “Many Ugandans suffer from a poor reading culture,” he said, adding; “I am delighted to note that Justice Ogoola who is a distinguished old Budonian, is enhancing the reading culture.”

Justice Ogoola pointed out that for some time people have related art and poetry to that painter in dirty shirts and jeans or t-shirts with paintings all over one’s face.

He expressed his fear that the corporate do not want to express them self through art and poetry which is a break though to any ones self

 He too addressed the question of poor African readership saying:

 “We don’t live to read. But we read to live.”