My Short Stay in Geneva

So last week I got an opportunity to in Geneva, Switzerland. I arrived on October 23rd and specifically resided at Hôtel Mon Repos. Its beautiful hotel to stay. Just within reach of the city bus and train and a bit quiet.  

I don't intend to delve into the details of my trip but just to let you know that I had travelled to learn. 

Learning never ends! I got to learn for example about the right to privacy. I got to interact with people who use and inject drugs. And as long as they used the drugs by themselves, who are you to question them ? They use these drugs by choice and they don't harm or influence anybody. So let them be. I leant that. 

But most importantly, I learnt that presidents if nations retire and live in freedom. In such deep freedom that one one knows a lot about them. so one of the former presidents of Switzerland came to my class and offered a lecture. Ruth Dreifuss came to class, simple with no escorts and smiled. she hugged some of the participants easily and answered our questions. 

I rode back home aboard the blue KLM Royal Dutch airlines. 

At Entebbe Airport, the place is still decorated by mobile telecom company details.  

Today morning, I met a good man with his wife.

Today started like any other day.

I have been to Hoima town various times and I very much enjoy the cool air of the town during the night. whenever I am around Hoima town, I reside at a place manned by Catholic Sisters. It is a wonderful place. But that is the story for another day.

The purpose of my trip was to participate in a charity walk which was organised by Little Hospice Hoima .

Let me first let you know that staff at Hospice Africa Uganda did a great job to organise this walk. They pulled the crowds. They mobilised people from all walks of life. They indeed worked out the Phrase: Palliative Care is everyone's business. They made the phrase actionable. The walk was attended by religious leaders, children, business men and women, students from high institutions of learning, members of the Palliative Care Association of Uganda, and many more categories of people. The chief walker was His Grace Stanley Ntagali,

But let me go straight to the purpose of my writing. I met a good man and his wife at the walk. The man was the Chief Guest at the function. He came in humbly and simply just on time before the walking started. This man is a former Permanent Secretary in the Ministry of Energy and Mineral Development. He is now a Presidential Adviser. He is a Phd with life long experience of 40 years in civil service.

I am talking about Dr Kabagambe Kaliisa. He was invited late to to be chief guest at an important function. to raise funds to care for the dying and suffering. He obliged to a two months notice. he mobilized his friends from near and far. He talked to many. He reached out. He went back to his former work places and spoke to all including support staff.http://www.bbc.com/news/world-us-canada-27789108

Yes he did, some contributed UGX 5000 and he respectfully tagged the amount in a special envelope, wrote name and contacts of one that contributed and put it separate from the rest. He therefore curried about 100 envelopes, each with the name, contacts and amount of one that contributed. Some contributed as individuals while others were organisations. So the envelopes he held and read out had the notables and the least. But not the least in spirit because look, they have less but have the hearts to give. So among the envelopes he held, The Attorney General, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, The Minister of Energy and many others were among.  

Now, let me tell you why I call him a good man. He was very detailed. He greeted nearly everyone at function with a smile, he walked all through with the crowd, he respectfully received, curried in his bag and read out the names of all that gave him a contribution to bring. He respectfully sat at the function until the last speaker. To say the least, he was warm and welcoming, I approached him, had a pleasant greeting, asked for his business card and he noted it was fine to drop him an email. I bet this man may not even remember who I said I was by now but the impact was great.

There is something unique about senior citizens in our country. Some of these men are so experienced, principled, full of authority yet professional, warm and simple. They are so detailed.

I keep wondering what my generation is about! Did I tell you it was a charity walk ? I prepared and curried my small contribution but wait, I should have done better! I didnt even think about letting you know before the event that there was a noble cause which you could support!

Lets pray and act. We need to up our game. We sure have mentors to learn from.

But tell me, what is the police running after people in Kampala ?  They are talking about #Agelimit. What is it about ?

Thoughts on My 2nd Trip to Ssese Island

Have you been on a ferry from Entebbe to Kalangala Island ? i mean in the Pearl of Africa. Actually the boarding site in Nakiwogo...the ride is cool. The ferry left at 2pm last weekend. I sat around which guys. Let me we squeezed around. Eight people on small chairs. But it was cool. I travelled with posh girls, those of the city. I enjoyed the stories and the perfume oh hehehe. We prayed. 

Let me tell you something quickly. In Uganda, there are guys (yes I called them guys and I mean men and women) who had their childhood in the city.
So these guys went to kindergarten and top class. Yes in top class they spoke fluent English, they were driven to school, they owned school bags and school shoes. Let me check, I am talking about the period around 1991, 1992, 1993.

So these guys missed playing in the mad and running after chicken in the compound. Run after the thing until you get it to loose its life to a plate. They missed grazing cows and goats and seeing a specific banana plant grow from a tiny thing to a tall tree and then huge hanging banana.

They lacked listening to stories by the very old. Some of those stories one listened to and had night mares. Stories or a very clever rabbit that would attend people's parties.
These guys missed building small house. They missed games of good small portions in tins and playing maama na taata. Let me tell you these guys missed the practical of slaughtering the chicken, the practical of holding a goat to be cut, the practical of tapping gashing blood from a cow’s/bull’s throat after a sharp panga has passed.

These guys missed eating lunch at all homes on the village! They missed sharing food with the village peers! They missed the taste of the not pealed sweet potatoes from different pots. Guys missed riding wooden bicycles.

Let me tell you, these guys missed attending every party in the village! Who told you must be invited to a party to attend ? just show up, have a piece of meat just at the cooking place and run! afterall the whole village knows you would show up!

They missed collecting firewood and fetching water. Oh how we told stories at the well. The guys missed feeling lucky just because a rat crossed a path without hesitation as one approached. They missed asking a funny bird how, when and who they would marry. hmmmm

But get me right, these guys do not necessarily have regrets about what they missed! Its hogwash! It’s villagish! These guys enjoyed video games and sports bikes!

And by the way these guys are in the city forever and some who cam from allover want to stay with them for ever.

But look, I want to go back when I retire. I want to go attend the village meeting. I want to greet and talk to my neighbors daily. I want to the farm, to see bananas grow. I want to breathe fresh air. I want to walk and to drive to church. I want to relax, attend parties and enjoy a hearty laugh with old women.

But wait, is the Age limit debate still on raging on in Uganda? See you soon!

Day of the African Child 2017: Think about children heading homes!

The Day of the African Child (DAC) 2017 will be commemorated on the theme “The 2030 Agenda for Sustainable Development for Children in Africa: Accelerating protection, empowerment and equal opportunity”. The Child friendly version is “Accelerating protection, empowerment and equal opportunities for children in Africa by 2030″.

The theme that was put out by the African Committee of Experts on the Rights and Welfare of the Child is very appealing to all that appreciate the problems faced by any child in Africa now.

Like ever before, every African child faces real life challenges. However, orphans and other vulnerable Children (OVC) face hard trials. These children do not only face hardships at home but also find it extremely had to access social services such as health and education. The OVC children therefor leave in harsh conditions, the have great psychosocial needs that go unmet and them also live an attitude of despair and hopelessness. These children include the orphans, those who live on the streets, those that toil under exploitative conditions of labour as well as those that suffer abuses and all forms of discrimination.

Among these categories of children is a special group who are the sole caregivers of the homes. According to the statistics on the website of the Ministry of Gender Labour and Social Development (OVCMiS), Over 32,130 children between the ages of 10 to 17 head households in Uganda. Such children have the responsibility of fending for their own survival, for their siblings and sometimes for the survival of their very sick or dying guidance or parents. They go through numerous hurdles to survive and to make 'their' families survive. they do hard labour, they sterve, they are sexulally harrased by merciless employers, they are flogged, they are cheated and many other things!

In Uganda, like in the rest of the sub Saharan Africa, the HIV/AIDS pandemic has greatly contributed to the huge numbers of this special group of children. The situation has also been exasperated by the increasing incidence of the numerous Non Communicable Diseases (NCDs) like cancer. It should also be noted that the design of numerous social economic interventions for the poor do not always mainstream the plight of this special group of children. Such children for example may be forced to drop out of school because they cannot afford the very basic necessities such as clothing let alone simple stationery like books to use at school.

Due to the continuous breakdown of social ties and the extended family system, the problem of high numbers of child headed homes is expected to keep raising. The social safety nets that included close relatives taking on the care of children in case of the passing of parents continue to dwindle yet the disease burden continues to raise.

There is therefore need for all government and civil society actor program interventions to mainstream the child headed homes. Programs such as Operation Wealth Creation (OWC) need to have special focus on this special group. It is important to note that HIV/AIDS programs have integrated care for OVC. It is important that cancer care and other interventions such as palliative care also focus on a holistic approach to integrate care for the needs of the OVC.

Leaving child headed homes behind while designing and implementing health, education and social economic programs only serves to entrench the dire discrimination that these children face. There is need for deliberate call to action in support of child headed homes that have become part and parcel of our society. Integrating the needs of these homes in programing will serve to rebuild the social fabric.

The 2017 Short Easter Holiday

The mind is an interesting item. But wait, is it ok to refer to the mind as an item? Anyway I just wanted to say something about memory, and that’s all. The brain, where memories abide is an intriguing thing! Now look at another one, I am referring to the brain as a thing. Can you imagine that I can remember a bit about my past Easter holidays? Just mention the year, I will sit back, relax and tell you how it was. Mind you, the part about food will be prominent as I tell you about the past.

But let’s go to the point for my penning this one! This Easter holiday was very short. In fact the shortest of all. There was a lot to do and no rest at all. Someone answer me: why do people pile up functions over such holidays? Baptisms, weddings, housewarming, thanksgiving, clan get together, wedding anniversaries all sorts of functions that require physical presence. This leaves no time for reflection on the true meaning of Easter.

You see, Jesus Christ was murdered by merciless guys, he was buried by a Good Samaritan and he came back to life by his own power. All this happened for us men and for our salvation. It all happened that we should be reconciled with God our father. The ultimate cause of this was that we had all sinned and fallen short of God’s glory. Hence, Easter ought to be a season of reflection. We should be quiet, peaceful thinking about the price that Christ paid. We should be aside making accountability. Searching through and asking ourselves: are we right with God? How about our neighbors?  But look at this, we end up partying all through!

Back to the point, Friday April 14^th was a day of travel. I travelled with omukyara, Maureen her Sister (she writes her name as Moline), a wife to Omukyara’s Uncle (she is unwell and has been rejuvenating her health as she abides with us) and Sheba Rona my cousin. Sheba (beautiful I must add) is a daughter to my mother’s young sister; Auntie Edith. She is in her long vacation awaiting to join University. We had a good drive. 

These are the days of #Fikasalaama and police officers in white wear are standby near the road every after about 20 kilometers.  From kampala ( it is easy to easy to say so but actually we set off from Kittende in Wakiso District), we had to be on the road early not only to beat the traffic jam but also to get home in time to attend a housewarming party. 

When we reached Mbarara, I asked an old friend to drive on with the rest to omukyara’s home.  Omukyara was unhappy with me asking another to drive her, as a matter of fact she chased him away and drove the car herself just after a few miles.

I still arrived late for the house warming function. The Rev. Canon Nekemia Nyabwere (elderly now) was joyful to see me. He is my god parent who considers me first. As soon as I arrived, he invited me to speak to the congregation. And what could I say? I thanked everyone for coming. I pledged to support the work of writing his autobiography and took my seat.  Let me tell you briefly about the house. About a year ago, there was a great storm in our village. It destroyed the banana plantations and demolished the old house of Rev. Canon. The storm lifted the house from its base and sat it in the nearby empty space. Not any other harm was made by the moving house. So people of goodwill gathered, contributed as much as they could and built a new house. There is particular man, the Chief Administrative Officer of Sheema, one Ruhemba who mobilized for construction to commence. He must be a blessed man.  So the evening went well at the housewarming.

The next day, there was another house warming at the neighbors. Our uncles Naboth and Fred build one magnificent house. It is the biggest in our village now. People from far and wide attended the occasion, I was the Master of ceremonies. As I prepared to start the function, I remembered that Omukyara was away. I walked back to get her on phone. Then I met a flourishing fruit tree. It was a small tress but with fresh fruits. I enjoyed the beauty. God was reminding me about how he makes things flourish. All the farmer had to do was to plant the seeds, I bet her/she had no hand in beautifying of the fresh fruits. I took the picture of the tree. The day went well.

We had a good church service the next day. We had good food at home and took pictures thereafter.  A younger uncle of mine (he is actually younger but my uncle) had a wedding meeting after church which went well. 

On Easter Monday, I was a god parent to two. I had not met the boys before. One is son to my other Uncle Beston Kansime. 

This uncle of mine is away from home. His son Ayesiga is a lively fellow, dark skinned, with confidence stature of a promising a great man. The other was Keith Mugarura a toddler. He is son of Alex Mugooha. He is my cousin and with his family, they stay in Kampala.

So we were on the road back to Kampala after the church service. Let me tell you, it was short, jam packed and I did not rest. 

The Burial of A Good Man

On Friday December 9th at about 09;20 GTM, I received a whatsApp message from Edson. The message came to my family group. 

Do you also have numerous whatsApp groups like me? I think I have about 14 or so groups that I belong on this crazy social media platform. But they don't all bother me. I have only three that I check out occasionally. The first one for my family.  My siblings and spouses belong to this and i give this my ultimate attention whenever I can. The other is one that has my friends including Wycliff . It's a small Christian fellowship aka Cell. Let me save you the other and get to the subject matter of my writing today. 

The message from Edson contained sad news. He had just received a phone call from his contemporary Karumuna  about the passing on of a good man. Karumuna did the right thing to call Edson. Karumuna is a young but strong saul. At the time of death, and the death of a loved one, memory runs to who should be informed. its the other loved ones that will come to mind. those one feels ought to know about the emotional moment. those who would otherwise otherwise would share a feast if it was good news. so Karumuna was right. Edson had to know. the two men (now) went to the same class at Primary School. They formed a friendship while still young.

Friendship is a good thing but childhood friendship is better. It is full of love! And as they say, love like rain, does not choose on which grass it falls. Childhood friendships share the most of love. I will one day write about my childhood friend. Pray for me so that I remember to do so soon. 

But let give you a snapshot about our childhood friendships. Just a snapshot! Whenever we made friends, we ate food at their home, almost as often as we ate at ours. Their homes were our homes. Somehow, our parents recognised our friendships and approved of them. Somehow, all our siblings became friends of our friends and our families became friends. In instances where our parents were just acquaintances, our friendships made them friends. so our parents would also start visiting each other.
But let me tell you why I wrote today. I wrote to tell you about the burial of a good man. The good man Mzee Eric Kyonyo was a grandfather to karumuna. This man had his house near the staff quaters of the NTC Kakoba.  The NTC is now transformed into a University. The man I am talking about was not just a neighbour to the now University but a key stakeholder. 

My fondest memories of him were at our church. He had to say something at every sunday service. he spent a long period of time as the head of laity. The small Chapel still stands. it's the chapel of the Good Shepherd in kakoba. he had a specific spot where he sat at church with his also now gone wife. They were both very humble souls. occasionally, he preached. When he preached about love, he shed a tie. He was passionate about the subject of love. love for everyone. If there is anything I remember from his many sermones is the appeal to love and love more. His house was bellow the hills. 

I also remember his visit to our home. At one of the visits, he promised my father that he would supply our family with milk for breakfast. And so we received Milk from him every morning. One of his daughters would bring us the milk on her way to work. So we had his milk. the other part of the story is long. I will not say much about it. It's about his way with us as children. Whenever he visited home, we escorted him to his home. He would listen to us. He would tell us about the importance of studying hard, the importance of respecting our teachers. At his home, he would sit us down and pray for us and then we would run back home. He was was a man of strong faith. I think he would sing any  runyankole/rukiga hymn without aid of relics. 

Now, that is when we were young! Time flies, we felt e had grown up and are no longer children. The good man new this. as is in the Bible , he "talked to us as though we were infants".... He still emphasized the importance of hard work, the importance of friendship, the importance saving, the importance of faith and hope. I worked at Office in the same place I stayed as a young boy. He often called at my office and wished me well. He was a store of wisdom and this I knew from childhood. So I wasted no opportunity. I gathered as much everytime we met.  He knew a lot about the land demarcations. a lot about the importance of Land as a capital of production. A Lot about God. So I tapped. Pray for me I become practical with all this I have.  

But so he died. And like many other, the killer Cancer took him. He went at 75 years of age. Don't say he was old. Not at all. let me tell you, you may follow an elephant days after its passing by! Mzee Kyonyo is not one to forget fast. he left stamps along his path.

So I nearly missed attending the vigil on my Friday of Travel. this was because two reasons. I had to attend the Uganda Child Cancer Foundation  inaugural Childhood Cancer Conference at King's College Buddo. So I tended part of it. I liked their 3C approach. Then I had to drive a long Masaka road and the days of Fika Salama. Apparently I was not stopped at any of the many Police Stops along the way. By the way they use small generators for light at night. I could hear their buzz in the forests.   

But wait, I had an encounter that you may find interesting. I drove part of the long route with two boys. They were about 15 and 17. They had received a phone call that thier mother was badly off and so they had to run back home. She had been bed ridden for about 2 years. Now, in our culture, when you receive such a call from home, you prepare for eventualities. i mean the worst news. It could be that...but they caller just wants you get home and get the bad news first had. I dropped them of at Mbirizi after Masaka. God bless their souls.

In Mbarara, I found an old man holding a mat waiting at Kamoomo stage. I enjoy it when I meet an old man and we talk. I engaged him in talk. He is Nathan Mwesigwa from kyagaaju. A surveyor that has been at his profession long enough to write about it. He was at my school in 1959. The man is my OB from Chaapa. The journey was so short. apparently, he was from Kamwenge to nail a good contract. He may have had his faults but his counsel can be taken by his years of stay on earth and work. He said, avoid okuryangatanisa as you work! The man went to school with the likes of Museveni, Prof. Kamuntu, Bashasha Senior and Kekuruuso these are old lads. anyone in our community would know them.

And so we burried Mzee Kyonyo on Sunday and had community with childhood people. We reminded ourselves of all. I met Joseph  call him Namanya and Katabaazi.

I prayed for the Soul of a good man and drove my small car back to Kitendde at night. 

A weekend at the Farm

I enjoy seeing cattle! And I don't mean standing by the roadside to look at someones cattle grazing on a farm. But I do that a lot also! I enjoy being acquaintances with cattle! I like walking a log farm with their company. Whenever I am get there, they come close, perhaps to greet! so I walk around as they follow or i sit as they graze just near me! the sound of there pulling grass off the ground make me breath in and out easily! I relax, I thank God! 

Of course someone from my neighbourhood would not be amused by that. They would perhaps be surprised if I stated to the centrally. But remember, this is not every ones taste. One of friends in Kampala for example knows nothing a cow. I don’t mean she has never seen one, but she just doesn’t give it a thought to imagine herself feeding one, let alone touching one with her multicoloured fingernails. I can also imagine that any good cow would find her perfume a puzzle. 

Cows have a great sense of smell, they can tell an acquaintance by their nose! I can imagine they would detest the perfume of my Kampala friend or they may love it with time. Cows also have a great sense of hearing, they can tell an enemy by the voice. They take interactions! Cows also have a great sense of sight, I can imagine, they would detest the long bulky hair of my Kampala friend or they would love it. By the way stubborn bulls sometimes tease ladies. 

So I spent this past weekend at the farm. One of the recent addition to the farm had had a baby. A calf so resembling the mother in colour. This was good news. The bad news however is that of recent, the farm has a poor shepherd. Now, I am not sure whether omurisa wente is called a Shepherd. My friends Joseph  and Juliet with whom we share the passion of possessing these horned things ought to guide me. But to be comfortable, I will call home caretaker instead of a shepherd.

This caretaker is so poor to the extent that he milks while standing! For goodness sake, why can’t he Scot while doing this normal cause!  We had a good one called Samuel when I was younger. Samuel had curved out a stool from a tree stamp. He would sit on his stool while milking! The cows loved him! He never tied any of them as he milked! By the way by saying tying I mean okubohera ! English fails me but to say something close, he milked in a rhythm on a rhyme. We called it okukombeza! Samuel had a way with his roles, he spoke to the cattle and they listened. He named the Cattle well. He have funny names o some of them! For example, he named one of them Kagabo! English again fails me but he meant to say that this cow had just one patch of colour. Otherwise the cow was brown with a white patch around the udder. He named it so while it was young, but it grew into a graceful mother. It led the kraal during the mature times.