In the beginning I was one of those who engaged in heated discussion about the bill. I listened to many videos online about it and listened to radio interviews as well. I posted stuff on people’s walls on Facebook hoping that I might be able to change someone’s mind – especially those who stood on the fence.

Murchison falls, part of the Nile's journey to the Mediteranean sea. Here seen as it flows into Lake Albert.

Then recently something popped up in the news about Uganda and the oil reserves found under Lake Albert. For those unfamiliar with Uganda’s geography, Lake Albert lies on the border between Uganda and the Democratic Republic of Congo (Zaire) and is considered to be the northernmost lake in the Great Lakes system of the Rift Valley.  It is also part of the water system that feeds the Nile River as it makes its way through East Africa, north onwards to the Mediterranean Sea. More info

If anyone asked anyone what the most treasured naturally occurring compound is, the answer would be OIL. Countries are at war because of it. It is very serious business because it has made millionaires of men, put politicians in seats of power world-wide and impoverished nations who deal with the corruption of the two parties (millionaires and politicians).

Recently the news has been abuzz with the story of oil in Uganda’s Lake Albert.

Article 1: Tullow seeks full control of two Ugandan sites.
Article 2: Huge Oil Deposit found Under Lake Albert
Article 3: Uganda’s Oil Fields are  the best kept secrets in the world

Then it hit me!! I know why Bahati was allowed to run amok with this crazy bill. Museveni’s brilliance continues to amaze me. He’s grown old and grey, but no young spry thing will ever be able to skip around this guy and the things he has planned for himself! We wondered why we didn’t hear the voice of the President loud and clear about this issue. He has not failed to let his opinion known on issues like the war in the North, the issue with the Bafuruki and women owning land. But this time, he has been silent. Silent because while MPs and people who let their brains take an extended break, leaving reason and logic collecting cobwebs and dust, he was scheming. He found someone with money to line his own pockets and buy the silence of those who would put controls in place to protect the Pearl of Africa from the ravages that mining for oil would bring.

An extensive documentary was done on Nigeria and the unfortunate circumstances that have arisen from a corrupt government signing contracts with devious oil companies. Vast water bodies are polluted and land cannot be farmed. Fish are dying, the ecosystem is laid to waste because while the government distracted its people, these mega oil companies came in and did whatever they wanted to do. I watched a documentary similar to this one and my heart broke into a million pieces.

Protesting Ugandans

So while Ugandans seek to pass an unacceptable bill with loopholes the size of Jupiter, a bill which will (and has already been proposed) change to suit the times, the corrupt government that has ignored good policy for years, perpetuated an unnecessary war on the North, kept children from getting properly educated and continued to circumvent the rights of women and children, allows foreigners to come in and take advantage of its natural resources.

In my last semester at the University of Kansas my professor invited a construction manager to speak to us about a project he had been involved in. It was in Angola and a number of things he had found unacceptable had happened at that construction site. He was working for a British Petroleum company.

• The usual safety measures that would have been enforced in a country in the Western Hemisphere were not enforced in Angola. Many construction workers were killed on site BUT they were considered dispensible.
• Many of the environmental controls were not enforced because there were government officials who could be bribed. Taking these measures can be expensive and these companies know it. They know how to get around it.
• The materials that were used to construct their office buildings, the oil rigs and roads were IMPORTED from the west. No money was put into the country to buy their considerably cheaper materials.
• Angola has educated engineers, but these oil companies chose to hire construction managers from many different foreign countries whether or not they had experience in the construction of oil rigs.

Do you see where I’m going with this? While we (Ugandans and the rest of the World) hold our collective hairy balls, fighting about who is having sex with whom, governments and companies engage in very corrupt activities to ensure that they and their families will be taken care of for generations to come. We used to call it kaliso liso, or slight of hand, an illusion. While we concentrate on one issue the important thing is going to pass us by coz our attention is else where.

Is Uganda going Nigeria’s way? Absolutely! No one is concerned about the environment, they’re busy listening to preachermonies about homosexual activities in religious establishments while their very life blood is sucked out by Tullow Well.

The issue here is not whether homosexuality should be stomped out by having a bill making the act illegal. Whatever your viewpoint is you’d better keep it, in case it becomes important when St. Peter or Archangel Michael checks the book to find your name (or your 70 virgins have been reduced to only 65). Whatever your view is, that is irrelevant. See past the issue to whatever is driving the madness so you will NEVER be surprised by World events. If you don’t believe me, just watch and see what will happen.

My eyes are open. Are yours?

Another Birthday came and went uneventfully, with the only highlight being the box of Quality Street chocolates my BFF got us. See, we share a birthday and make a lot of noise about it before it comes, hardly celebrate it when it gets here and make a lot of fuss about the lack of presents and cake.

This year is almost the same. Except BFF decided to go exploring other regions of the World and left me to fend for myself.

*Dramatic Sigh*

And now here I am looking at a box of chocolates thinking about being old and getting sick and loneliness. I’m a lone loner of loneliness! (to steal a phrase from Sid )

*Stuffing mouth with Fondant au chocolat*

So, as I sit here, eating myself into a glucose induced coma, comforting myself the only way I know how, I remember all the useless phrases said to me in order to make a case for some other useless life lesson.

“Life is like a box of chocolates”

No it’s not! Boxes of chocolates come with nice little papers to let you know which chocolate to avoid! Okay?! If not you have a knife, cut into the bloody thing and CHECK!

Sure things happen to us all the time that we’d rather not experience. Sometimes they help us grow and other times they come just to make life shitty. That is the way it goes, you know? So what is with comparing it to a box of chocolates?

Ah well. There is my super intelligent thought of the day.

Now GIT!!!

The strong brick, rough and worn
scratching post for sheep shorn
stretching tall shading
harsh rays from strays resting
in it’s shadow.

The rough surface tickles my hand as I walk around it
Finding deep notches where moss
has found a home
making it smooth.

I’m safe in this fortress
I dont’ even notice the storm
that rages outside
covering the parts of me that must grow to show
how you fathered me.

See it was never about
the clothes on my back
or labels that come with it
jor the fact that we walked home
from a full day of slavin’ it

It was the
Keep your back straight
and your chin held high
let the world see your pride
there ain’t nothin’ to hide.

You said
C’mon child don’t slack
They’ll shoot you in the back
and attack your ineptitude.

When you
Held me close as my heart broke
as the screen of smoke
covered the bloke who left me.

Saying
Kinyagiro come here
don’t let this breed fear
you will find love again.

It was the
tears in your eyes as sweet
sorrowful goodbyes
soaked through the glass
that separated us.

Still hear you say
It pays to remember
what you learned at home
all of your days sweet one

It’s in the smile I hear
on the other end of the phone
when I call and know
you take pleasure in the sound of my voice
it’s your choice
to let me know

Thank you for being
the only father I’ve ever wanted
for sheltering me, I’m content
For a lifetime of memories completed
supporting m dreams even when I’m defeated
depleted and done.

I love you Daddy!

There are some things I don’t understand about the whole abortion issue. No matter what your moral stance is, logic demands that some questions be answered.

1. If our belief systems are not identical, how can I tell someone what to do according to what I believe?
2. Are all women good mothers? Or are they assumed to be good mothers just because they are women? What about all the cases of child abuse perpetrated and/or supported by women?
3. If the basic concern here is the life of the child, not the quality of life after the child is born, your moral stance again is what?
4. If I have not contributed in ANY WAY to the life of a human being, how can I tell them what to do with anything?

I want to rule the World, I really do. However, I’m not sure how to impose my beliefs on others and make them bow to my will.

Help me!

You broke my heart last night
When you insinuated that my dreams
Will never come to pass.
When you insisted I give up
And let them fade away
Like the morning mist.

I spent the whole night patching up the pieces
Wondering where I went wrong in explaining myself
Wondering if you mistake my character
Wondering if you ever knew me at all…

Maybe you do and you just don’t care
Which is okay
Coz I’ll be okay
And keep chasing my lofty dreams
Till I catch them.

2009.ndungi

a) Sending you a secret message telling you to keep doing that thing you love to do?
b) Asking you to take a break and enjoy the painting?
c) Busy doing something else and isn’t doing anything to do with painting?
d) Firing up the heavenly grill making burgers for dinner?

August 11th Sunset

August 12th Sunset

August 13th Sunset

http://imnotwhispering.wordpress.com!

My current desk

In the past I have attempted to record my voice in the hope that someone will hear it and sign me up for a Walt Disney cartoon series so I can make millions and RULE THE WORLD!!!

I have some recordings of my poetry and one of me reading an old blog entry. Do you think you might like to hear my voice?

Back to finishing Chapter Three!!!

Thinking about the next chapter

Rocky grey hills stretching up towards the sky with a singular thought – touch the sky. Grassy knolls surviving on ledges where top soil had previously settled, having been brought here by heavy torrential rainfall that is common to this place. Trees growing from the cracks in rocks, their roots delving ever deeper drinking cool drops of water that are still hiding from the world. The trees cling to the side of the rocky mountains growing straight towards the sky, long branches stretched in eternal worship to the sun. The steep green valley plunges down several hundred feet from the top to a rushing river that bounces off big boulders that plummeted down the valley in years gone by, making laughing jovial sounds as it races to its destination. It ends in a shimmering lake whose edge is just visible around one great hill in the distance.

The morning air is cool and heavy with the wetness of the mist that rests on the hills till the sun rises and chases it all away. In the afternoon the sun is so high in the sky, all that is left of your shadow is a small oblong shape under your feet that occasionally sticks out it’s arms and legs in mock imitation of your own movements. The heat of the day ebbs as the day wanes. People and other creatures alike venture out, usually ending up in the market square squabbling over the prices of fresh colourful food. At night each star a glittering gem on a dark velvet canvas etches its nightly path over the sky, sending messages of peace, love and impending doom to searching sages hidden in their towers.

Here life grows full and lush, as though the land is infused with powerful growth hormones. Birds chirp and build their nests with vigour, stopping only to take a quick splash in the river or some other little pool where they can cool off. Children race up and down the valleys calling to each other in playful voices and competing with each other to defeat the old Ngungu tree that is older than the oldest person’s memory in the valley.

This is the land where my great-grandfather’s great-grandfather, Chumbusho, was born.

West beyond the last mountainous hills of the valley, a great forest that stretched as far as the eye could see, covered the sibling hills. Tales of shapless terrors that ripped flesh off bone were told to children, a warning that anyone who entered the woods would not leave alive. Not since Fruha’s rebellion had anyone ventured further than a couple of feet inside the forest. Reckless teenagers testing their bravery would dare each other to enter the forest. Diiru’s middle son, Ewuno and a number of his friends had raced home last harvest season with the fire of fear in their eyes. Apparently Ewuno had been challenged to relieve himself on one of the trees that stood just beyond the edge of the forest. While he did, his friends cheered him on and when he was done – according to them – the tree had lifted a large root and tripped him. Ewuno added various details depending on his audience, a dark shadowy spook for little children, a beast that watched him from the branches that stared him down was saved for the ladies.

Chumbusho was Ewuno’s younger brother, and his most faithful servant. Even though he was not allowed to play with the big boys and strictly forbidden from listening to their conversation, Chumbusho could always be found lurking somewhere near his brother. At night he would bring Ewuno’s blanket to him and he would be rewarded with a warm snuggle till he fell asleep. His dreams would be filled with the incredible stories Ewuno whispered to him as bedtime stories. Chumbusho would have happily served Ewuno for the rest of his life.

The harvest after the Great Chief died, Ewuno and his friends ventured towards the forest once again, the memory of their previous scare entirely forgotten. Ewuno’s account of their previous adventure had been stretched to a ridiculous epic that had morphed into a tale that made him a warrior with experience beyond his years and his friends had been written out. Feeling chaffed that his story was being challenged, Ewuno had challenged his friends to do what he had done, asking them to each pick a tree on which to ease themselves.

As usual, Chumbusho was following them, ducking from tree to tree so Ewuno would not see him. The older boys jostled one another as they walked along, teasing Juum who would be married in three months to a girl he had been sweet on for seventeen months. Eventually they arrived at a grassy clearing where some large mango trees grew that were heavy laden with ripe juicy fruit. They flopped beneath the trees in the cool shade and one lanky limbed friend climbed up one of the trees to cut down some mangoes for them to eat. Chumbusho chose a large tree along the footpath, careful to avoid the large red biting ants that raced between the grass blades. He watched their journey away from the base of the tree, carrying larvae on their backs and butting against one another. The soldier ants raced along with the worker ants that carried the larvae, occasionally stopping to check for holes in the protective wall that ran along each side of the path they had chosen.

A large green eye above him slowly opened and watched.

The sudden quiet startled him and he looked around the tree to see if Enuwo and his friends were still in the clearing. The large eye closed quickly. The older boys sat scattered about the clearing, long limbs bathing in the sun, thirstily absorbing each ray into their dark mahogany skin.

Saftisfied for the moment Chumbusho turned back to the red ants.

Slowly the large eye seemed to open in another part of the tree, carefully watching. Hardly a leaf rustled as it watched Chumbusho. Other eyes opened above following his movements as he followed the path of the ants.

The feeling of being watched came slowly over Chumbusho who turned around quickly and asked, “Who is there?”

No reply came. The eyes were all shut.

Slowly Chumbusho turned towards the tree and slowly looked up, afraid of what might be there that had raised his hackles so frightfully. One eye glinted from between the leaves, catching a ray of light. Suddenly a thousand eyes opened in the tree, each one green and curious centered in the middle of the large leaves of the dunfin tree.

Before he could let out a yelp, a long vine fell from the tree and wrapped itself tightly around his ankles, suddenly toppling him over, making his back hit a raised root and knocking the wind out of him. Another vine wrapped itself around his mouth muffling out his terrified screams. Chumbusho’s hands desperately pulled at the vine searching for a weak point to break it, but could find none. Many vines followed, tying him up and making him helpless. They lifted him up into the tree and the thousands of eyes watched as frantic tears streamed down his cheeks.

Soon he heard Ewuno and his friends getting up from the clearing contining on their journey. The sound of their footsteps rustling the grass and their cheerful conversation eventually faded.

(Where is Chapter Two?)