"A" FOR AMAMALICIOUS. YOU GOTTA LOVE MISS UGANDA!!!

It could not have skipped my poky self you say. I agree but I just had to tread this mash as I could carefully afford in order to get some kudos for political correctness or lack of it. (Whichever side eventually wins this social media rant). The weeks that passed, Uganda was engrossed with Amama this, Amama that; something that a certain fraction of the population hoped (albeit stealthly) would well-up for a clean oil spill into 2016 and perhaps beyond. The eviction of some Ugandan babe from Big Brother Africa House (even I can’t be certain I know her) and her rant about two weeks success at changing the world vis a vis Bebe Cool’s UB 40 year successful retention of the title of ever upcoming house owner…bla bla bla; did not help shift our focus from  Amama’s plead the fifth and play the piano bag of tricks. To think that a machine gun democracy preacher would be moved by this. It quacks, it is all duck but in name. Such is the paradox about Amama still running errands for YK and the annual leave that only matures after nine years, but again; I am the novice here so I will usher myself into the naughty corner!

Every time I watch a reality TV competition, some stupid dreams well up. (They are stupid because I have been taught to dream about tomorrow and not be so ambitious as to think that tomorrow will dawn soon). Anyway, I seldom envision myself on the stage wowing the judges. Quite the opposite. I am always on the bench of three, the mean one at that; if you’ve watched Ian Mbugua, Joan Rivers (RIP), or better still, Simon Cowell then you should get my number ASAP. Those guys are students of yours truly (we are dreaming, right?). It could be my default judgmental vista pro. Just before you request my resume, hashtag Lupita Nyongo’s advice. Mine are valid too!

On different stages where endless actors in ordinary people always pull off perfect comic sets, I am the ever grinning cynic to the one-liner possible descriptions of such broad daylight Broadway!! I know you want me to convince you about my indiscretion, here is how. ( I entered a taxi late at night and in waltzed this middle aged lad with an Ijuuma religious cap. That picture of downtown Katwe handy guys. Then he pulled out an android, scrolled and the screen saver was some light skinned Zuena or Zari look alike. I subconsciously ordered my coffin. He proceeded to hold a Rukiga love talk with his Zuena (I am one by the way so I can distinguish the flow from the Kabarole equivalent). Before I could pull a Lazarus move, he whispered through the android, 

“Honey, this week I will be going to Western Nile”.

I know of West Nile (only) and I almost put a knee in his groin for this misconception but then again I was just poking. Sometimes one exults in the mere fact that on does not do stand-up cynicism for a living. The streets would be littered with broken bones.

You see, when we donate blood, it is the type and health of it that matter. Nice kidneys are good too, so go slow on the bottle. Brains are great and so is acumen. It helps that we have the most patriotic people in the country running everything important because now the Miss Uganda Office is. If you doubt their success, consider the fact that Amama is momentarily not the social media darling; thanks to UPDF. If you still doubt their modus operandi consider the fact that no Miss Uganda has ever become this popular in so short a time and even those that eventually did, you have to credit some Pensioner hand of god.( I am not suggesting that Bad Black has ever been Miss Uganda, but she no doubt earned more than all of them combined before she retired to vacation in Luzira.)

If Amani asks for hung shoulders, chiseled cheeks; flat chests and flamingo legs for the Paris or New York fashion week, the ground is set. I know that there is a movie titled”12 years a slave” starring a one Lupits although I am yet to watch it but I am not sure what Angelina Jolie’s latest movie is although I might have watched it. That is the drift. I can confidently assert that there will be a slim chance of any beauty        queen (as photogenic as they come), who will grapple with calculus and source code as well as Her Excellency Leah Kalangu. 

Beyonce said;

‘Mama said, “ you are a pretty girl. What’s in your head, it doesn’t matter

Brush your teeth, fix your hair

What you wear, is all that matters”

The culture of TV bred citizens who want a rich man so that they can sit home and pretend to raise the kids. Those that even have degrees often graduate into house wives of equally educated or loaded blokes. Do we want a Miss Uganda to provide escort services to expatriates or shower naked in BBA so that our perversions can drool in satisfaction to the ultimate substitute of coffee and cotton? (Since we are yet to even understand what oil exportation is all about!). The most popular TV shows are abanonya and be my date, because guess what, they teach people how to fix a car tire, No?

I do not have the prettiest mom on earth. I think my sisters are beautiful but I know Hollywood would request for a pinch of salt on that menu, but do I give two hoots? No. Does Tyra Banks wash my clothes?, H no. I like that Alec Wek is dark and bald and looks sculptured on canvas and so does Naomi Campbell. My grind though is that I prefer my ladies shorter, lighter and fleshier. That is what my bedroom will define beauty to be, and I could care less if all the vogue editions were used for a suicide noose. 

We have made our statement. Kiprotich matters to us because he runs. Kansiime matters to us because girl is she funny or the word funny is not funny enough to describe her funny funny! Golola matters to us because he kicks some A (sometimes)!!, Leah matters to us because she is virtuous, godly, sick brilliant, talented and eloquent. 

She is too tall for me, and of course brighter than me so I cannot deal!!

Regardless, she gets an A for being Amamalitious. Here is why.

The historicals like Leah,

The generals salute her,

The cows dig her;

Poultry would kill for her,

Computers vibe her,

Everyone talks about her;

Celebs are using her to become relevant,

People and a half are talking about her,

We now care about Miss Uganda;

I do not know her,

So what the heck!!

Twitter @matsikogodwin

$TOH

OPEN LETTER TO H.E YK MUSEVENI

Dear Mr. President,

Greetings in the name of the citizens of the Republic of Uganda.

Your Excellency, I have been having a few random ideas flying through my mind and neither Andrew Mwenda nor Tamale Mirundi have been sensitive enough to tickle my fancy and that is not to say that they do not show cause for their paychecks as required. They are always on time, with the same unconvincing ideas; in the same old 1990 delivery fashion. Entertain no impulse to fire them especially since jobs are hard to come by in this our country. While we are at it Mr. President, I went to your school but kinda missed the memo on sciences. If you had warned us earlier, perhaps we would have cheated those chemical equations and become scientists. Whatever it would have taken to become doctors and stand a chance at being appointed Prime Minister. 

Alas, we went to law school, sweated through voluminous law reports and grueling bar exams only to find out that we could not even produce a Chief Justice!!

 Seeing as, the rungs of citizenry and political importance do not explain where my chances lie in the possibility of addressing you in person, I hope that this whisper in the jungles somewhere in your jurisdiction will reach your most prized earshot. I have been reliably advised that the walls, trees and potholes have ears and as such I have no doubt that you my President will hear of my rumblings.

I do not seek a sack of green paper though I could use a few of the subject myself. That’s kind of you to ask but no, I did not partake the pilau on Entebbe road. That’s okay, I had my rolex guy fix  something although it gave me a few issues since he was always on the lookout for Musisi’s boys. I was not enumerated but I am consoled that many of my peers weren’t either. I doubt Amama Mbabazi would pick me out of a crowd of white tourists so no, I do not speak for him either.

Given the delicacy of my surmise and while I grope for the right words, I am cognizant of the oiling that even such an effort might mudstick. Overcome by caution, I attempt broad strokes and labour to steer clear of the gutter. 

Allow me to speak freely Your Excellency.

Your Excellency, it is well known among the cattle keepers that a kraal is best kept in a certain way. It is necessary that milk is flowing and so the generous adders need to be found, nurtured and preserved. A young heifer or two will do no harm though certainly the newly born are required to stimulate the milking process. For some reason (and perhaps not to say Africa learnt its polygamy tendencies from this), a kraal is best kept with one bull. I propose we refer this research to the generals in NAADS to advise us on whether this speaks for the possibility of HIV and other STD’s among animals. In the meantime we appreciate that it is not impossible to find that a single bull serves the purpose of ensuring we get the exact breed of herd we require. 

Humans seldom live in kraals. The last time I checked this was the closest deduction I could make but its adequacy is not beyond reproach. In the circumstances, they may or may not mind cross-pollination. Some like their bulls black, some mixed, others local or exotic whichever classification we follow.  Bottom-line humans have taste. I wonder though whether their instances where a choice must be made for them lest they choke in their own indecision.

Do you think Mr. President you will one day contest against the Kabaka since it doesn’t look like the toofali man will ever pull a ka Judas? Oh would he?

The Whiteman came and said that we were the closest to the species with tails. It wasn’t flattering but our skin colour was not so different from that of the monkeys and since this was in our science books we were tempted to consider the possibility. When our teachers marked our answers in regard to evolution to the affirmative, we even believed the theories to be true. After all, there is no denying that we relish our bananas to the point of having a Republic to that nomenclature. Did the gun make us more secure and less prone to foreign invasion? Maybe, maybe not. One thing is clear though, the barrel made our reverence and aggression to each other more achievable. In which case the man who posited the theory of survival for the fittest would be turning in his grave, glad that we seal even the loopholes in his summation.

 Is it true Mr. President that honey never runs out of a hive as long as the queen wills so?

Are we then just a bunch of animals killing each other and eating bananas? Sometimes there is no telling how untrue this is. The bananas are sometimes processed, served on plates with flowers; more expensive and even genetically modified. Clad in impressive apparel, desk phones, smart apps and wintry conditions in the heat of the day, we enjoy the age old delicacy. We have reduced the number of red faces around us and perhaps feel less inferior of our appearances than we once did. Our baffling opinions of the people we walk this earth with have been glittered in euphemisms, clichés, satire and one liners. We have concealed our more boisterous outbursts in pouts, selfies, memes, emojis; lol and xoxo! How I wish there was a clearer indicator that we are now the wiser for it!

Is it true Mr. President that you would forgive anyone who attempted a temangalo on statehouse, or some temangalos are more equal than others?. What if the person has not been with you longer than UB40?

I have a hunch that I beg your indulgence for me to pursue with feeble effort. The

empires of old run riot on spears and shields and gun powder and slave labour and canons and dhows. On cowrie shells, rupies and raw mineral ore. There were no faulty fighter jets and suicide bombers, drones and nuclear weapons that were last used in Nagasaki but have held us ransom to their prospect for decades on end. Yes there were cold wars and hate speech and genocide and all. We now have computers and hackers and spam ware and spyware. We now have air force one and money that walks on four legs. Hordes of ground we thought never capable of coverage now we ace with ordinary drivel.

Is it true Mr. President what Mugabe said, that since the Queen of England has been for generations and two Bushes have covered the House; that it is possible for the vision to only rise from one sauce pan? ( I know he is old that one, but I was just wondering?)

The eloquence of those that get to the helm is a thing of old. The canopy of power by the powers that be is as far reaching as it ever was. The karma of grand ideas that get modified, filtered and refined in the tranquility of human nature and basic instincts is not close to extinction. The illusion of one more thing to be accomplished to get the pieces in place, the whim to clutch to straws that plastic roses are; in the hope that they hold the one anchor to rejuvenate the fast disappearing ticks of the clock. The inclination for a man to chase a lady in the hope that all the secrets of the universe lie somewhere between her legs, the hope that life as we know it is unlikely to fly away beyond where we have perched. The possibility to twist  the flow out of a heart with the prowess of seasoned judgment of men who have done it before-sharp and glib and able to connect with the average folk while we are at it!

Is it true Mr. President that you would forgive Lukwago if he joined the army?, that you would send him to Somalia or Juba to fight bad guys?

And so well meaning men built the Titanic. Well-meaning people jumped on board and replayed the ride of a life time. The Titanic picked some on course and jettisoned others. Those that stuck though, smiled and heartily chuckled with gratitude at such a lease of life. The sails fluttered and waltzed through the wind without a hitch and life was never more glamorous. Oblivious to the mauling, many a sojourner had no commiserations for the pitiful whimpering of a broken man because they were seldom aware of the deft maneuvers aligning the strings. 

I breathe and puff an air that is crisp and invigorating. But again, the only Titanic I know of, I watched in the eyes of Leonardo Di Caprio, the only Caesar and Napoleon I know, I read in the curriculum you approved. The only George Orwell and Ibsen I know I found in the pages of a book.

Is it true Mr. President that MPs have Ipads? Nga they are not on twitter? Can you imagine they even fail to make quorum for some sittings, and then they lose cases on technicalities at our expense? Do they not check their whatsapp messages on those ipads? I hope they don’t be watching bad manners on those gadgets.

Not to say that everything written is devoid of hyperbole and neither that in writing our own stories we must jettison everything extraneous that pokes into our recipe. Some of the matter that forms our environment are the branches that fall off trees, stones chiseled out of ordinary rock and those out of precious stones and all. It never ceases to amaze though, what the human hand is capable of. We have watched motion pictures where stars cut of their fingers or whole limbs to evade more ghastly possibilities and perhaps that is just a technique and master stunt work to wreck in box office ratings.

Is it true Mr. President that Hon. Ssekandi is the Vice President of Uganda? Okay, Bukenya used to grow rice but what to VPs of these days exactly do?

I enjoyed the movie “Coming to America”, or was it “from”, I can’t recall. Eddy Murphy had a line about sowing “royal oats” and I do not think Zamunda is a farfetched example of what royalty can offer. I may not be afforded the luxury of dreaming the improbable but neither am I programmed to worry to no end.

Is it true Mr. President that you fear Besigye’s eyes? That if they were less utilized you would allow him to succeed you without worrying if he visited you in the dark?

I was born after 1986, the only time I was eligible to vote, I had one yellow name glowing in my eyes; thanks to MTN of those days. The MTN that was before crocodiles and their appetite for MBz and our airtime were invented. And so on and so forth, what do I really know?

Is it true Mr. President that we have a Ministry of Sports? I was just wondering why the only team that has shown cause to win something international has to beg for mineral water when some people are earning 96M.(Mpozi it was a typo?, aahh anyway I was just asking!)

For God and my country!

God Bless the President, God bless Uganda!!

Yours faithfully,

a humble subject. 

$TOH