A post that should have a photo in it but does not

There is a statue of an elephant at the entrance of Nakumatt Oasis shopping mall Kampala. It stands about five feet high and is a reasonably good statue. It looks like an elephant should. None of this “abstract representation of elephant-ness” or “symbolic of elephantitude” that “artists” use when they, as I suspect, can’t be bothered to actually make a proper statue but really want the cheque.

If people hate what they don’t understand, then that would explain my attitude towards abstract art. I see abstract art and I want to stab it in the neck. And then I begin to hate myself because my anger itself has taken a cue from the painting and expressed itself in an abstract form.

There is an elephant at the entrance to the mall.

I was at the mall the other night, after BHH, and looking over at the mall entrance, was able to watch how others observe the elephant. When it’s late and there are not too many people around, the strange men who walk in and out of supermarkets after ten in the night will indulge a strange itch of curiosity. They look, keenly, discreetly, or blatantly, at the back of the elephant.

Because you will be surprised how many people have wondered, just as you have, whether that statue is anatomically correct.

A brief interruption.

I hate to interrupt an important discussion like the one my esteemed colleague Ms Cheri aka Sherry Darling has been holding with her last post below, so I shall keep the shenanigans to a minimum and get right to the point.

BHH is this Thursday. It has been decided that we  change venue from Mateos to Barbecue Lounge, Centenary Park because it’s further from the hook. Please join us for BHH at Barbecue Lounge Centenary Park. Qwela will be performing.

Now, please, move on to the post below this one and think about your position as an privileged, middle-class African living in the midst of widespread want and poverty and about Western celebrities, and about charity. We owe us.

Crying Rivers

Dear Editor,

I cried last night. I always cry inside, but very rarely shed tears. Yesterday I shed tears.

BBC has a bi-annual charity programme (sport and comic relief) in which they run comedy skits and other programmes specially created and written for the purpose of encouraging viewers to donate money or whatever they can to the the relief programmes that are run by the relevant charities. The charities that benefit from the money raised are not just limited to the UK but are located all over the world. Most of them are in the 3rd world.

This week has been a particularly busy week for sport relief as people do stuff that they hope will help raise some money towards this cause. Great stuff is done. Some years back, David Walliams (comedian and star of Little Britain) swam the English-French channel in a little over 10hours and raised more than £500k. This year Helen Skelton (TV Presenter) kayaked the entire length of the Amazon and Christine Bleakley (TV Presenter and Girlfriend of Frank Lampard, for Chelsea fans) water skii-ed across the English-French channel in beyond freezing temps and raised £1m. A group of presenters and comedians led by Fern Cotton, rode bikes 1000 miles from Land O’Groats to the lowest point of the UK called, Land’s End in 5 days. they raised more than £1m. Cross-dressing comedian, Eddie Izzard run 43 marathons in 51 days and raised more than £500k for charity.  Last year, a group of radio presenters and pop stars climbed Mt Kilimanjaro for Comic relief and raised more than £500k. Truly noble causes. I am very humbled by their efforts.

Then there are the mula de la mulas who just have to dip into their pockets and spare some pocket change (to them) for charity.

3 particular stories made me cry last night.

Chris Moyles (radio presenter) visited a village in Uganda and his heart broke whenhe encountered a 24 year old man outside in a hospital courtyard. He had just arrived with his young wife who was heavily pregnant abut had been struck down by malaria. As they lived miles away from the nearest medical centre, they had to take a journey that lasted 2 days. ON FOOT! She was in the last weeks of her 3rd trimester. They showed the young woman convulsing in the ward as doctors tried their best. As she had been sick with malaria for a whole week before se came to hospital and also the fact that she had to take a 2 day journey on foot, doctors couldn’t do much to save her, and she passed away a day later.

A Sport relief run charity for HIV/AIDS VCT and positive living in Kenya recieved a lady who wanted to have her blood tested because she suspected she had contracted the virus from her errant husband who had 3 other known women and had recently lost one of his lovers to an unexplained illness. She did not mind having the test carried out live on air as some sport Relief Patrons (Duncan Banatyne and Theo Paphitis of the Dragons Den) had visited the medical centre to see how they used the money and drugs given to them by Sport/Comic Relief. When her results returned positive, she broke down and the pain was clear for everyone to see. I cried for her. She wasn’t sure what to do next and even contemplated suicide if not for her children.

She was counselled and offered free medical care for any illnesses that she’d suffer as a result of the HIV and the medical superintendent of the centre was told that they would increase the quota od assitence they gave them so that all HIV positive people who attended the facility would get free nutrition education, free counselling and also free basic medication to ward off any tougher cases like TB.

3 months later when they visited again, their promises had been fulfilled and they met the same woman who had taken on the education she recieved and had even began work at the centre as a counsellor.

Still in Kenya, Alan Shearer (Former Newcastle United and England striker) visited 2 boys, a 16 yr old and his 12 years old brother. They live on their own after their parents both succumbed to HIV/AIDS within 2  months of each other. With no relatives ready to look after them, the boys had no option but to forge on. They wake up early to prep for school, then after school, they passed by a rubbish skip where they foraged for plastics and any other things that they could sell and make some money so that they can buy some paraffin for the lamp at home. They don’t really care about food because they had a meal at school so this is enough to take them until the next school day.

I cried for general reasons but what was especially hard is that the younger boy was still in denial over his parent’s passing. He believes that they went to the city and would be coming back home soon.

One might scoff at charity or any fundraising opportnity as a money grabbing gimmick (and I am not sure of all the money raised gets to where it should be) but they at best, highlight the issue that things are very bad in some places. At least they are doing their bit to help us. Sport/comic relief don’t owe us their charity and money or assistance. Most of these celebrities would happily enjoy good popuparity even if they ignored this. Many do and still go on to have “brighter stars”.  They don’t owe us much. We owe us!

I was truly moved by this I went to one of the participating shops and bought 5 pairs the £2 sport relief socks.  If I wasn’t this broke, I promise I would have donated a little bit more. But for now, the socks will do. At least £10 pounds can buy more than 10 doses of anti-malaria drugs.

Ok, Baz, I will now leave your residence and hope to return to blogistan as soon as I’m done with my dissertation. speaking of which, I need a mucuba/mercenary/machinery! Seriously.

Have a great week ahead and remember to thank God for everything he has given u.

-Sherry Darling

Now, where were we? Oh yes. Cont’d.

Where were we? Yes…

1. What’s worse than your boss telling that he has had to make a very tough choice and that he is afraid he’s going to have to let you go?

Your boss telling you that the reason is that he can’t work with you AND sleep with your wife at the same time.

What’s worse than hearing that your favourite FM radio presenter is leaving your favourite station to go to work in Nairobi?

Jimmy Jones 75.

What’s worse than hearing your boyfriend on the phone throwing lyrics to another girl?

Hearing your boyfriend on the phone throwing lyrics to another guy of course. That one was obvious.

What’s worse than arriving at the office cafeteria at 12:30 because you were THAT hungry and when you get there you find that Maama Mmele isn’t going to show up because she has gone to help out at Kasubi Tombs?  She has taken all the food she cooked there to feed the distressed Baganda who have camped at the tombs to mourn. As for you there is nothing to eat. What’s worse than that?

She didn’t give you your balance yesterday and you were banking on eating without paying today but now look.

What’s worse than Hot Office Chick suggesting that you go to Chillies to get Chips-Chicken if Maama Mmele is not around but who the hell has 6k for chips chicken banange?

The fact that Hot Office Chick earns like half your salary but SHE can afford Chillies and you can’t. This proves that you are a loser in life and that poverty will haunt you forever. No matter how much money you earn.

What’s worse than your team losing in the most Premier League match?


What’s worse than finding a cockroach swimming around in the coffee cup you left on your desk?

The fact that you are such an asshole you are just going to switch cups with the one on Sidney’s desk before he comes back.

What’s worse than the New Vision website newvision.co.ug?


What’s worse I

What’s worse than seeing the driver in the speeding taxi you are trapped in whip out his mobile phone and start a conversation?

Hearing him say: “Yo, Iguana was off the hizzle last night, nigga! Fly bitchez was wall to wall, for shizzle. Nigga we was popping Tuskers like muhfuckin mineral water, son. I’m still blazed, I swear. Seeing double just!”

(more on this story as it develops)

The Cousin of Death

P. B. Akiiki
In the latest song by the Grammy award-winning singer-songwriter Alicia Keys (a.k.a. Praise Birungi Akiiki, if you prefer to use her birth name and not her better-known stage pseudonym) she appears to be suggesting that listeners “try sleeping with a broken heart.”
This should not be taken at face value. Because she is saying it Ironically.
Ironically is something some Grammy Award-winning songwriters do where, to emphasise a point they make it appear as if they are advocating for the opposite. Common examples are Eminem, who really loves his mummy vewy vewy much, and Jay-Z, who finds New York crowded, noisy and full of rude people.
What Akiiki actually means, therefore, is that it is very difficult to sleep with a broken heart. But did you know that a broken heart is not the only thing that impedes easy slumber?
We are going to count down the top five things that you should “try sleeping with”.

(Don’t) try sleeping with Cats.

Cats are nocturnal animals with claws and teeth and are carnivorous. A lot of people forget, because they are so cute as kittens, that cats are genetically designed, therefore, to eat you at night.
“But Baz,” you say in protest, “I have known many people who have slept with cats and survived uneaten!”
If you think this way, I urge you to examine those people for signs, at least, of licking. I will wager that you will find traces of cat saliva on their skins, left behind from when the cat checked for the taste, found that the Samona jelly on the skin was too thick and yucky, and spared the life of the woman or man.

(Don’t) Try sleeping with Sambuka.

Sambuka is a coffee liqueur which world-renown social Commentator Katt Williams described as not sounding like “no shit no nigga should be drinking”. This is because, according to Williams’ observation, the liquor in it fucks you up but you find that you cannot pass out so you just  pinball through the night being a nuisance to everyone else.

(Don’t) Try sleeping with a kasiki in the neighbourhood.

When two people meet and fall in love and decide to spend the rest of their lives together, one of the things they do is hold a noisy party that lasts all night and prevents the sleep of all the residents of their neighbourhood. Neighbourhood kasikis tend to last noisily up to around four in the morning, and are one of the reasons why divorce rates are so high in urban areas. People who can’t sleep have to come up with something to do in those long hours and concocting curses leveled at your upcoming marriage is one of the options.

(Don’t) try sleeping with another man’s wife.

I don’t need to explain this. Unless you are compelled to do this by the curse that befell the marriage on the night of the kasiki, you should respect the sanctity of matrimony and sleep with another man’s housegirl, boss, schoolteacher or lawyer instead.