Archive for the ‘ In the News ’ Category

Elections were held…now what?

 

Now that we have voted, we can pat ourselves on the back. See, it doesn’t even matter whether your candidate took the biscuit. What’s important is that you are now, for lack of a better word, relevant.

You know those stories you hear from elderly folk about how they participated in some sort of monumental event, like say, walking to school ten kilometers away? Well, you can proudly say you walked to your polling station, and what’s even cooler here is the fact that when YOU walked, something that affected the millions of people happened. Not just your village.

If, like me, you happened to get your nail marked by some clearly overqualified official at the polling station, you know by now that you will never have to invest in nail polish again. As I type this, I’m looking at my thumb and wondering which excuse I can use to get out of a tight spot when being quizzed about accessorizing my nails. It’s down to;

·         I wanted to see what being Gothic feels like

·         I am embracing Henna as an alternative lifestyle option

I’m not going to sit here and pretend that the social scene will stay the way you left it before dipping your hand in that basin and placing tick against face…or for the more hands-on among you, thumb against mug. Wherever you go out, at least one person will ask whether you voted. A slightly lower number of interrogators will be willing to buy you a drink basing on your answer. Plus, your confidence can grow in leaps and bounds now. Seeing as it’s the post election period, there is no such thing as the ‘right answer’ to that question.

On the flip side, you can expect the number of people you have been popular with to wane drastically. You may not know it, but part of your appeal stemmed from the belief that you were a young person. That stain on your finger will work against you, in which case, now would be as good a time as any to invest in some nail polish remover or band-aid.

Also, there will be a spike in the number of people that believe that you have an opinion to share. Trust me, there’s nothing as frustrating as having people look up to you for insight and depth. Then again, I think the issue here is revealing that your elevator doesn’t go all the way to the top.

Such is life, it’s not all rainbows and skittles (ha, the henna lifestyle thing starts to rear its hideous influence), but look on the bright side, the president finally got you to listen to him.

2011
02/25
CATEGORY
In the News
1 comment

The New Place. The Clinic

 

You’d think moving to a new place would mean a fresh start, right? You’d think wrong. See, my lifestyle may have been upgraded somewhat, but my immunity’s still a bitch.

How was your Christmas Day? 

I got off to a decent enough start. You know, the sporadic load-shedding that suggests someone at the power company is sending you signals by Morse Code.  Apparently you can’t sue ‘em because of something on every bill that indemnifies them. I think it’s the bit at the bottom where they tell you they will disconnect your power supply if you have not paid up by the time the silly uniform has walked through your gate

Then there was the rain.

Whoever goes around blessing the rains down in Africa has not experienced a Christmas shower in Uganda… or is some sick perv. I’ll let you think about that for a bit before you pass it on to the Red Pepper’s Hyena as one of your own. 

I woke up to bad weather, but it was okay. Sometimes Christmas means more than that.

Then it kept raining, like someone was trying to prove a point.

And then, just in case I couldn’t take a hint, it rained some more.

I felt a little, I don’t know, off-ish, so I skipped the beer and the wine, figuring I’d go see the doctor and follow through with my traditional self diagnosis thing…

It didn’t work. 

I thought I had Malaria. I didn’t.

They thought I may have Typhoid. I did.

It’s been called the poor people’s disease and I think that’s a pretty dumb thing. (Oh MJ, why did you have to go??)

I asked the doctor what options were available, secretly hoping that there was an injection that they could administer that would magically make it all go away. Seriously, I didn’t care where that needle was going to be stuck, provided I was fit for thirty first (yeah, take that one too).

There was an injection, but it was one of those intravenous (read; drip) things and I would;

  1. 1- have to endure about 15 minutes of drip drip action (thing is, they’d said that my blood test results would be ready in 10 minutes, then proceeded to walk the dog and bring them back after 30. Clearly they were liberal with their minutes, there was no telling how long I would be in union with syringe)
  2. 2- feel very very nauseous after all that. I’d gone to bed feeling like if I put my mind to it, my walls would be covered in a new coat of ewwww.

So we settled for pills. Actually, that’s a lie. The lady with the certificate really wanted to give me the injection, but I politely declined. Even her pleas that I take one “starter dose” was met with a well practiced, soon to be perfected shake of the head.

She said it was alright and proceeded to write out a prescription for me. Between you and I, I’ve been to pharmacies that stock less drugs than the stuff that was on that slip os paper.

Oh, and it would take me way past New Year’s day. Naturally, I asked the most pertinent question at the moment…

“So, can I drink?”

she: drink what?

Me: alcohol

She: what alcohol do you usually drink…

I paused for a bit here. I have never thought of myself as a rigid drinker. Do I infact have one particular poison?

Me: oh you know, er, uhm… *cough cough* beer… whisky… the usual

She: You can drink wine

Me: Huh.. what?

She: What’s wine made out of?

Me: Er… fruit

She: There you go

{what the heck is sambucca made out of… isn’t one of these drinks made out of jackfruit? You know the one… the thing that tastes like funny scented glue}

I thought things couldn’t get any worse.

I was wrong. Come on, you saw THAT coming.

The lady in charge of dispensing the drugs made a show of the whole thing, it felt like I was back in primary school;

“This one is 1 times 2. Strictly after meals”

This was, in fact, written on the little medicine pack.

“You take one, eh. Two times a day. After you have eaten food.”

I think that’s what the pack had written on it, but shit, what do I know? I have Typhoid…and a pair of eyes.

“So, if you take one now, you take the next one after 12 hours… after food.”

Well, I’ll be damned. Does that then mean that I should take 1 two times a day after meals?

The math lesson went on with all the drugs and a part of me felt really bad that none had to be administered with every bowel movement. I’d have wanted to see how graphic she would get. 

“Kati, let me go to the toilet and then come back and swallow this medicine…you get?”

Obviously, I sought a second opinion.

My other doctor, the one I would have called Dr. Favourite if I was Carrie Bradshaw or one of those happy males that watch Sex & The City, said I was on the right track. Except for the Ibuprofen (whoa! I got the spelling right, bring on the Spelling Bee). 

Apparently, my stomach was going through enough shi… stuff as it was, throwing in a drug that had some acidic tendencies was NOT going to do me any favours. So I asked whether I could take my personal favourite; Zerodol. (How is it that Microsoft Word gives these things the green light, but is quick to throw squiggly red lines under Eid?)

Oh, and as to the question to end all questions, yes, I can drink one or two beers. After all, I need my fluids, right?

Man, I love the Hippocratic oath.

2010
12/30
CATEGORY
Generally. . .
In the News
Me
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of primary importance

You may not believe this, but I went to Primary School once. I think it’s what people on the other side of the ocean call Elementary School, but, moving on. I went to primary school and I too had the privilege of sitting for my Primary Leaving Examinations…and, as it is now, my generation of candidates also had the system fuss over them. Looking back one question looms in the recesses of my steadily greying grey matter.

It’s not so much, why did I need to learn how to arrange stuff in Alphabetical order. I really think that may come in handy some time. It’s not even, ‘why exactly did I run away from that girl when all she wanted was for us to hold hands?’ And it is not, believe it or not, “were they real?”

Far from it. My question, my bane of contention is, ‘what was the big deal?’

If you have had the opportunity to traverse through this great nation’s education system, you know that on the days that ‘candidates’ sit to do their Primary Leaving Examinations a strange thing happens. It’s probably not a big deal, but on those two days, time.stands.still. Everyone else is barred from going to school.

Well, they would be barred if they really gave a shit about studying. So let’s call it what it is, a holiday.

It’s also an anomaly, but that’s a story for another day.

So for two days out of the whole year, P.7 candidates run the show. They are given the keys to the… whatever you want to be given the keys to when you’ve got all that power in your hands. In their case, to the DH/Lunchbox?

I seriously don’t understand why life has to come to a standstill just because kids have exams. Don’t get me wrong, before P.7, I was grateful for the two days off (less grateful for the stupid homework, what’s the longest river in Uganda? Are you kidding me? That ain’t mental stimulation, that’s bar talk!) But looking back, what the hell was that about?

Let’s be honest, P.7 kids no matter how old they are (and they can be pretty old) are not that important. They are not going to fight for world peace, they certainly won’t pioneer stem cell research in Uganda and they will not lead this country…neither will a couple of 40 year olds, no matter what stage of their academic journey they happen to be traversing.

This stuff’s a recipe for disaster. You hand over such self-important sentiments, there’s no way a person won’t move around with an oversized ego. Shit, business doesn’t come to a standstill when he releases an album, but look at Kanye.

At this age, the biggest concern falls along the lines of, “where will I find a Nintendo PS3 or Xbox 360”. Is this really all it takes to earn people their freedom? Going to the bush doesn’t even get the rest of the country a day off. A day!!! And here we are celebrating TWO days?!

These are the guys that will absolutely eat-up a trans-day disco (my understanding of this is that it’s basically a party that goes on from 11am deep into the early hours of the afternoon) so clearly, they can’t be accused of being that old.

Is it because these guys are the most susceptible to ‘cheating’? Is that why the whole school is cleared? We wouldn’t want junior to be told what the longest river in the world is, would we? Come on! I know grown-ups that have a hard time helping kids out with their homework. It’s absolutely safe to leave them lurking around in class. Heck, I’d sooner clear the schools for O’level and A’level exams.

You can’t claim there’s suddenly a need to give people some time out. Anyone can attest to this, holidays just keep getting shorter. So clearly it’s not an act of benevolence… the crappy homework you’re sent away with on your little holiday proves this.

If you’re going to make them feel this important you might as well give them all the protection they need when they cross over to secondary school (or drop out) and start taking the piss just because they (think) they can.

We have an explanation for why cooked food should not be given to kids in school. We have very flimsy reasons for the whole ‘girls should not have long hair as they study’ thing, but no one has explained why P7’s can run the show during examination season and every other candidate has to make do with TERM X.

2010
11/04
CATEGORY
Generally. . .
In the News
4 comments

An Innocent Michael Jackson Post

It just occurred to me that while I was not a hardcore fan, I am moved somewhat by the entity that is (or was, if you believe he really is dead) Michael Jackson. See, there was a point in my life where I was in awe of the backslide and the gravity defying lean.  The first horror flick I watched was the Thriller music video. Peering from behind my fingers as Michael turned into a werewolf, freaking out as the zombies did their dance and Michael’s girl screamed. Curiously, there were no nightmares after this, just the belief that Michael was the devil incarnate and that he could transform into a werewolf whenever the moon was full… then into a car (Moonwalker) then into a Panther (Black or White). I thought, shit, that guy is good… until the stories that he was a devil worshipper started to move around. Those were not special effects, that shit was real! Lucifer was at work!

The scales dropped from mine eyes soon enough, but as time waned, so too did my fascination with the king of pop. I didn’t become Anti-pop, that honour fell to someone else. I just didn’t think there was anything magical about Michael anymore. Sure I appreciated the awesomeness of the music videos, the depth of some of his songs, but I didn’t care to try and memorise his lyrics, which was just sad seeing as back in the day I had to keep rewinding the cassette, playing back and writing to get verses on paper. In the era of the net and concordantly easier accessibility, I didn’t care.

Anyway, long story short, I received a tonne of messages when Michael died and I was not as moved as I thought I should have been. I didn’t even play the sadistic replacement game that I usually sink into when someone famous passes on (Aaliyah shouldn’t have died, so and so shoulda, Left Eye shouldn’t have died, thingy shoulda! and so on and so forth). I just shrugged and continued sipping my drink, bugged no end by the plethora of textual activity that was stimulating my cell phone.

Somehow I managed to survive the eulogies that saturated the airwaves, my eyes violated no end by the headlines screaming at them from the newspapers.

It was only when I watched the video for the Earth Song that Saturday following his death that it started to sink in. You have to understand, of all the Michael Jackson videos, that particular one kept evading me. I never, EVER got to watch it from start to finish. This time was no different. I ‘caught’ it as it was about to end. Yet again, Michael had managed to elude me. No matter, I finally felt a tinge of grief, a smidgen of remorse.

On Sunday, the music channels were going all out, airing ALL his music videos. I plopped myself in front of the TV and waited; Earth Song, you shall hide no more. Sure enough, it came on. Around the same time my sister’s friend arrived with her two little nieces in tow. I hit the pause button and went to alert my sister as to the presence of her guests. When I got back, one of the toddlers had undone my recording and moved on to the Disney Channel in the pursuit of some stupid **** called Hannah Montana! Yet again, no Earth Song.

Last night, I resisted the urge to give in to the widespread Michael moments on Facebook where the average facebook status message ranged from Michael Jackson song titles, lyrics and blatant proclamations that his legion of fans would moonwalk with him to his final resting place.

I caught bits and pieces of the send off on the telly. Just enough to make me think, SHIT!

Dude is gone.

2009
07/08
CATEGORY
In the News
TAGS
10 comments

In other news. . .

I have the flu, but let’s not make this post about that. I got an award from Sleek…I’m supposed to brag, but I don’t have that in me. Well, I could try, but shit, what could I say that you don’t know already? I be the realest, got posts so fly they should be up in the sky with birds…hang on, Microsoft word actually recognizes the word realest. Would that mean there is such a word as ‘realer’? It’s the Obama effect, I suppose. We have a boost of blackness in our vocabulary.

I’ve got three phones sitting on my desk. The Nokias are supporting each other in what looks like phonography (pornography…geddit? No, would you rather I said textual intercourse… What gives, Microsoft word recognizes the word textual?? Are these real words? Have I been out of it for THAT long? Which other word snuck into the lexicon while I was away…let’s see, ‘rentedmess’ . Aha, still not there!

I just realized I have not read today’s papers. I’ve read the pepper, but that doesn’t count for… great, the boss just dumped it on my desk. There’s an upside, the phones are hidden now. The headline on the Pepper- HOMOS WANT TO KILL ME makes you think. See the thing is, for a while now, guys have been purpoting to be gay with the hopes of getting asylum abroad, but now it turns out you don’t need to be gay to claim asylum. You can just say they want to attack you. George Oundo, I salute you! There’s a line where he claims that ‘some of these homosexuals are very powerful people…” er, okay. Bet there’s gonna be a probe into that soon enough.

The New Vision quotes the president of the republic as saying that opposition leaders are blind. How the heck is this news. He has been saying the same thing since forever ago. Of course at the time he said he was the only one with ‘vision’, but it is the same thing isn’t it?

Oh shit, the New Vision also reports that Robert Kayanja’s personal aide was kidnapped and beaten up by guys saying he should say that Pastor Kayanja had been sodomising boys. When he refused, they offered him $100,000 and pocket money amounting to $20,000. They also said they would fly him to a destination of his choice.

What is wrong with this picture?

First of all, I think they got the order all wrong. See, if you want someone to do your bidding, you start all diplomatic like then resort to violence if all else fails. You don’t beat a guy then offer him some money. He is probably thinking “Shit, half that money will go into surgery correcting the damage to my face”. Tell the guy, if you must that you will also pay his medical bills. Say you are sorry then dangle that carrot in front of his face. Don’t bloody hit a guy FIRST!

Secondly, they’ve got the wrong guy! The guy that outs gays is in the other paragraph and his name is George Oundo. As it stands, HE wants to leave the country, and clearly he is an authority on whose gay and who is not. Why go after the personal aide? George recognizes that there are some gay people, tell him you will make the playing field even for him. That’s the dude that wants the carrot! Give him the friggin carrot!

This flu has got the best of me, I’ll be right back.

2009
04/27
CATEGORY
In the News
6 comments

My Neck, My Back Hurts JUST LIKE THAT

Let’s just dive right in shall we.

I have Spinal Spondylosis…the condition, not the movie. It is not the reason I walk with a, er, bounce. But it sure as hell is the reason it feels like my ribs are not held together and are engaged in a playful game of poke the lung every time the vehicle I am using goes over the humps that litter our roads. It is also the reason my back hurts like a bitch. Yeah, there is no colorful way of describing my back pain.

It took a while to arrive at this diagnosis by the way. In typical Ugandan fashion, the first doctor I saw said it was Malaria. Let’s think about this for a second. I have a sudden back pain, a dull ache in my right hand and the ribs in my chest feel like they are trying to have forced intercourse with my lungs and somehow this is supposed to be a strain of malaria?

How is this even remotely possible? Have the anopheles Mosquitoes enrolled in some Military school? Did the Italian Mosquitoes send some Mafia Enforcer; Don Squito? Has the virus had enough diseases like Ebola and AIDS taking its shine and decided “Screw this. You don’t know who the **** you are ****ing with!” (I don’t even know why I bothered censoring those words, what else could it be?)

So anyway, I told the doctor I didn’t think it was Malaria, but he insisted that I take the test. No lie, I hate needles, but if they will reveal what’s going on, so be it.

Results came in and….. NO FLIPPIN MALARIA!!!

However, the doctor is not buying this. “It could be hidden, take these pills.” Hidden? What the hell? Are the White Blood Cells and the Malaria parasites working together? From whence did this solidarity come?

So I took the drugs for the first day and surprise, surprise, I was still in pain! So I sought a second opinion.

I won’t name names, but this doctor is notorious for deriding our local doctors and their Malaria prescriptions. For once I was on the same page with him.

His diagnosis, “You have a long thin neck!”

Er, okay.

“Actually, you are tall and thin.”

Shit, I could have stayed at home, looked at myself in the mirror and saved myself the consultation money!

“So, your spine *something something* nerves *something something* pain”

BUT

“Let’s run some blood tests just so we can be sure we did not leave anything out”

Oh Crap, Mister! You don’t wanna do that! I have this Malaria Parasite in there that will break the friggin needle before you can get a sample!

The results; NEGATIVE for anything of significance.

So I’m told to stick with painkillers for the rest of my life. EXCITING! This brings me a step closer to being like that grouchy doctor on TV.

YET

The pain refused to go away!
It just stayed and stayed,
Stayed like it wanted to play!

So I got a third opinion! And that’s how I found out that I have Spinal Spondylosis! In as few words as possible; Spine, Bone, Poor Posture, Nerves Pressed.

Treatment

Physiotherapy!

The doctor has this little gadget that has these funny pad thingies that distribute jolts of electricity through my body. It’s an odd sensation, and I’m sure the doctor knows this.  So I don’t understand why he thinks I can sleep through the whole 30 minute ordeal. It took some getting used to, but when I finally accepted it as a friend (not on Facebook, Erique!) I just had to know its name. What do they call you, oh buzzing gizmo! Who shall I say cured me of my malady?

The doctor was only too willing to offer, “It’s called a Digital Therapy Machine!”

Are you kidding me? I was offended! You might as well slap a sticker on its side that says “Sylvia”

The doctor was on a roll. During the second session of physiotherapy, a belt like thingy was strapped around my waist.

“It will produce some heat!”

I was comfortable with that, what pissed me off was its name.

“This one is called a hot belt…”

Catch you on the other side

Other Side
I think there’s a boda boda guy trying to off me. I’m not sure but it could be for this Human Sacrifice thing that has swept the country. Everytime I jump onto his bike, I give him specific instructions… and directions. I tell him exactly where I want to go. Then I wait.

Sure as rain, he always tries to branch off to some dark place, until I tap him and say, “Boss!”

Then he goes back the way he is supposed to.

I feel compelled to tell him that I am probably not the witchdoctor’s type. I am tainted. The witchdoctor wants virgins. I’ve had sex before and I’ll be damned if I don’t have it again!

I am trying to understand what’s going on in his mind at these points, “I think he is sleeping, I can take him the other way…” Shit, speaking of ‘the other way’, maybe it’s not Human Sacrifice this guy is after…

In other NEWS

The president loves himself some ‘TOOKE‘ biscuits. Would it have killed the geniuses behind this product to sit down and think of a more awesome name… I don’t know about you, but if a kid walked up to me and said he wants money for Tooke, I’d slap him for being so obscene…

2009
03/31
CATEGORY
In the News
Random
This Life
17 comments

skirting on petty issues

It’s old news. Nsaba Buturo has gone and opened his trap yet again. This time round, because he realised he’d simply be repeating himself ( and thereby boring himself as well) he avoided Big Brother and went after short skirts.  click dis!    and dis one coz its new

I am not one to claim that I know the inner workings of parliament, but don’t we usually send these guys in to represent us. To discuss issues that really really count. I mean, come on, miniskirts?? 

The vibe I’m picking up here is that this dude was bullied as a kid and he views this as an opportunity for payback. 

I seriously wanted to go into the whole Big Brother issue, but I can’t see what his angle there is/was. “I never got to hang out with the cool kids, I won’t let Uganda see others” ? That’s a possible angle. But the thing is, the last lot of contestants were not the cool kids. Well, not entirely.

According to the web,

“Minister Nsaba Buturo told journalists in the capital Kampala that wearing a miniskirt was like walking naked in the streets.”

I beg to differ Mr. Minister. Walking Naked is like WALKING NAKED in the streets, wearing a miniskirt is nothing like that. Not even the kind that are as thick as a belt, or a handkerchief. We have seen naked people walk around the streets and I assure you, seeing someone in a miniskirt is tonnes better and does not really provoke a gag reflex. It may provoke an entirely different reflex, but shit. It IS NOT LIKE WALKING NAKED!!

“You can cause an accident because some of our people are weak mentally.”

Dude! I know as the minister of Ethics and such you are supposed to be the custodian of all things sacred and pure, but don’t bloody make generalisations like that. “Some of our people”…”Our people”? WTF? We had to deal with the whole Amin thing, now you’re giving us that? 

A guy logs into a chat room and introduces himself…

-” I’m from Uganda and I am hot for you, I wanna slide my”

-”Hang on… Uganda? I’ve heard about you. Sorry sweetie, I don’t think you can handle this jelly. I’m way too bootylicious for you.”

-”But…”

-”I know your type, you’re weak mentally.  Bye sugar” 

- “Shit! That’s the 6th one this week.  I will never be able to get a visa! Damn You Nsaba Buturo”

“If you find a naked person you begin to concentrate on the make-up of that person and yet you are driving.”

Okay, that’s all kinds of wrong. If I found a naked person, the last thing I’d be concentrating on is the make up. No matter what kind of eye-liner or masacara or whatever she’s got. Even if it was Beyonce’s Bleaching Cream… unless of course you meant to say concentrating on the “anatomy”…and even then, I really doubt anyone that found a naked person would find this person whilst behind the wheel of a car.  I mean, dayummm that’s some friggin ambition right there. 

But let’s compromise. How about this, if a person is driving and chances upon a naked being, let him drive to the side of the road, park and kill the engine and then “concentrate on the make up of the person” that is naked at the time. Naked people do not last forever. So, after said naked person has left the line of vision of the driver, he can get into his car and drive away. Thus, no accidents. 

“These days you hardly know who is a mother from a daughter, they are all naked”
I wasn’t going to say this, but, Sir…are you married? Do you have kids?… are you trying to tell us something?
Would I be right to say that some of our politicians are weak mentally? That they cause accidents by not debating the issues that matter… that these days you hardly know a kid from a minister of ethics  

How many accidents are caused by drivers fighting to switch off the car radio when Nsaba speaks?

Should they ban him?

In closing, conversation between colleagues 

-Nothing onscreen has more getting laid than sex and the city

-Clearly you don’t know about porn

 

2008
09/23
CATEGORY
In the News
This Life
Under The Influence
13 comments

APPEAL: Please Return The Red Pepper’s Calendars!

The word for today is NIBIRU…not to be confused with Mubiru, which may or may not have been my lecturer’s name back at the university. Come to think of it. It wasn’t my lecturer’s name. He was called Kapere. Pretty funny guy, he just didn’t know it. . .or if he did he didn’t care. SUCKER! Read more

2008
03/12
CATEGORY
In the News
TAGS



11 comments