What we want is a coup, not this hopeless bickering we are hearing from some bored generals

When we speak about a coup, some of you get so apprehended to the point that you can even afford to hide under your chairs at the mention of that 4 lettered word. But hey, look here, come forth from your hiding place under that chair and let us talk about this. As Ugandans, it would simply be unrealistic if we pretended that coups are an alien topic to our existence. Just a reminder, for the 50 years that we have existed as an independent nation transitions of power have predominantly, if not only been by Coup D’états.

So, for us to pretend that it is an abomination for a citizen of this blessed curse of a nation to speak about a coup is to ignore our own history. But even then, we cannot speak of disgruntled Generals and not speak about a Coup D’état. Coup D’états is what disgruntled Generals machinate (apart from the coy Ugandan ones off course).

The truth about life after campus

When we are still on campus, we are usually tempted to make very many baseless assumptions about life after campus. We, in our myopic way of thinking assume that all will be well and we dream of things like making quick inroads into the world of employment, steadily rising through the ranks in our careers, driving the latest models of cars, purchasing plots of land in the prime skirts of the city, marrying the pretty ladies of this world, giving birth to a few beautiful kids and all that claptrap. But you see those are but merely funny dreams. And one thing I like about dreams is that they happen when we are sleeping. 

When we finally chose to wake up, we shall realize that things are different out here.  Here is how we think and what the truth really is.

Lantern Meet of Poets give love theme interesting twist

When word went around, to announce what has become one of the most, if not the most popular poetry recital in town to have been scheduled on a love related theme dubbed ”Bittersweet” even those that are never moved by poetry got concerned. For wasn’t it Plato that said, ‘At the touch of love, everyone is a poet.” If we are to judge by the throngs that showed up at the National Theatre on Day 2 of the recital, then Perhaps Plato was right. I am quite certain not all those that turned up that Saturday are necessarily poetry lovers but where love is the humans gather.

Of Campus kids who know nothing about Achebe and how they should eat rolexes

One fact I have discovered about myself is that I am a snob. Now, every writer is, in one way or the other. It is not that we really intend to walk around with extra kilos of false airs but somehow our calling forces us into such obnoxious behavior. As a matter of fact, writers are not paid a lot of money but the praises and flatteries that we receive for our work makes up for the poor pay. That is how our egos are boosted and we tend to bask in the glory. We then step on every other person’s toe with such reckless abandon.

The death of Achebe and the rise of the mighty snob

As a writer, the death of Achebe became fodder for my snobbish gibberish and the fact that I have read more of his titles than some Ugandans did not make things any better. (Some Ugandans know nothing about the late Achebe beyond his single but also most popular title of Things Fall Apart.)