Karama is for Min Ot

This Nalweyiso girl. She sends me subtle annoying text messages. Says I can keep the ring. While she keeps the man. She does not know who the real keeper of the man is. An. Me. Min Ot. People do not call me Min Ot pa Okello for nothing. I am the wife. She is the

When her Chi is dancing Myel-lyel

Growing up, there were days when you would feel ignored. Extremely ignored by the adult of your affection in the homestead. The neck of the house. The human whose core is the center of your happiness. Your mother. If she was happy, you were happy. If she was sad, you were sad. If her Chi

Sunset

Back in the day in Chua county Mucwini. Around that time when Oxfam came and helped rid us of Guinea worm; two choo. Before the war pa Abiro came and we had to go all the way to Lubone through Paloga as oring-ayela. Refugees……. Before Alice Lakwena took our fathers to war and some never

Electricity shenanigans

Every neighborhood has that one influential person. Ours is Jedekaya. We call him Jedii, with the double “i” intensely pronounced. I don’t know how the “e” was dropped. Don’t ask me. His friends call him Jed. But if you came to our village on a hot Sunday afternoon looking for Jed, we will point you

Part of the statistics

By Laker Winfred L I regret joking about it. Covid19. I shouldn’t have. But I did and it was one of my regrets last year. I still remotely feel bad for throwing jokes around in relation to this virus when it had just started spreading. This thing came to our world, put us on our

Get me Oduu yaa!

Dear Lawi-awobe, I know you are not engaged in some cozying up dalliances with Nalweyiso this chill evening. You can not be. You said you are heading out to the village. To Kitgum. To your birthplace. See Hassan the Bodaboda guy says you are in Kyaliwajjala and not Kiti. He said you have not left

The curious things in a bus at Namayiba bus terminal

“Soda, water, soda, water?” “Power bank, headphones, memoli cards?” “Sista? Breakfasti?” “Chips, river, chips, river?” “Buksi, buksi blaaza? Buksi sista?” Those are bus hawkers moving through the bus isle and shoving their wares at you. It comes in various degrees. Some overtly intrusive. Some overtly aggressive. And some, simply annoying. I decided to observe and

Kampala traffic jam & the village food queue

By Laker Winfred L Some drivers in the Kampala jam remind one of the food queue at a church function in the village. There’s always that one person, that person ahead of you. That one person that is oblivious of the people behind him. He is mostly laid back. The kind that is not-bothered-by-many-things laid