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Kabalagala (Ugandan pancakes) go missing after a flight from Uganda

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Window shot flying over Washington D.C area on Qatar Airways I started 2024 with missing suitcases after a flight home to Uganda. Immigration officer: Where are you coming from? Me: Uganda IO: What was the reason for your travel? Me: To see family IO: How are they doing? Me: They are well, thank you. IO: How much money are you bringing into the country? Me: (Thinking to myself—"dude is this a trick question?”) I said, “None really”. IO: Welcome back! With that I went off to pick my luggage. I scanned the luggage conveyor belt for a while… nothing. Exhausted but chill and with hubby still way out, navigating the highways, I took my time. I watched the luggage spin round and round: green cases, black cases, pink cases, checkered cases, cases with bright colored strings (you know the pieces of cloth torn off dresses or belts—the ones used to tie sacks of cassava or millet? Ya! People real know how to mark their luggage, so it stands out). My cases: one maroon-soft cover and one gree

A spin through Heathrow airport

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You guys’, Heathrow airport is huge like this. It is oba the size of Soroti city ? You haven’t been to Soroti city? What’s your excuse? I will wait. If you have friends from Soroti and you’ve not visited their home… You know where I’m going with that, in fact, let me go there. My absence shouldn’t be an excuse for you not to visit my home, to check on my people. In fact, you my Ugandan friend should make the trip to Serere - check on my zeyi’s give me updates. Whoosh!!! I went deep there and no, I’m not joking. Okay back to the size of Heathrow airport. The surface area is like a combination of Soroti flying school, Soroti airport, Soroti sports field, Soroti rock, Soroti Nurses’ quarters…you know?! As in if you clear everything; buildings, trees, petrol stations… then add Soroti market, yup! Large area like this. Era at Heathrow airport, if your flight is at gate No. 62, get ready. You’ll take the elevator, get to the underground terminal, then you’ll take a train (okay

Kampala Pentecostal Church a meeting spot for young professionals in pursuit of life … and love

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[ "You trust people because you’re courageous, that’s why, because you are grateful. It’s a mark of courage, it’s a mark of commitment.  It’s like you and I are going to make an agreement and you are full of snakes and so am I.  There’s lots of ways this could go sideways but we are going to put together an agreement, we are going to articulate it, we are going to try it out.  We are going to find something that’s of mutual benefit to both of us.  We are going to put our hands out and shake on it and we are going to stick to that.  And we are going to risk trusting each other.  I don’t think there’s any other natural resource than trust. And for trust, you need courage not naïveté”. Dr. Jordan B. Peterson ] The way young people today navigate relationships is a puzzle - social media, online dating, swipe left, swipe right. I hope things work out. Then I think back to our days and how clueless we were, we also jumped on life with gusto with all those group outings and retreats, old

A silent retreat - good for the soul

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  “Come away, come away, come away with me my love. Draw aside, rest a while, let me surround you with my love”. I don’t know where you are all going but this is scripture – Song of Songs 2:10. What I included up there is a version of it - lines from an album that often played in our home growing up. Father God calls for us to retreat, to spend time in His presence - find renewal, respite, restoration. It’s bloody out there – the world is like a war zone sometimes. When a friend recommended a Jesuit silent retreat I stepped back. Who? And what do they believe? For me, it boiled down to the basics – do they believe Jesus is the son of God, that He was born of the virgin Mary, that He was crucified, died and on the third day He rose again and is now seated at the right hand of God the father, that He will come again to judge the living and the dead? Those things. If yes, I would take a shot, besides, I wasn’t about indoctrination just a quiet space to be with God. God shows up wh

At the Spa

A famous author once advised writers to “Write what scares you”, to “be vulnerable on the page”, apparently it makes the writing come to life. I don’t know, I just think it is super frightening. But as my writing grows, so does the kind of content and sometimes I will visit subjects or write about subjects in a less conventional (Mary) style.  Let me start with a disclaimer and legal-ese, okay maybe this piece is not too risqué but just a heads up, there may be a few surprises. If you’re not ready, please go on your merry way, if yes, let’s get to it.   Kati I’ve over set the scene, oh dear! Anyways, in boarding school there was always that girl who didn’t care much for people’s opinions. The girl who lived by her own rules. The girl with a revelation – she would do her and let the world sort itself out. She’d come into the dormitory from the shower and immediately drop her towel on the bed. We’d all be like “gundi pleeeaase!!!  With a straight face she’d ask, “What?!” “What haven’t yo

Bungee Jumping on the Nile

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  My Girl Goes Bungee Jumping My girl is reserved. She speaks only when it is absolutely necessary. Her dad bends all sorts of which way to get her reaction but she is often impassive. She remains expressionless sometimes with a subtle smile pasted to the ends of her lips – that’s when you know you’ve really got her. Her diary is lethal – yo! I don’t know where she gets it but she’s a certified mystery. I’ll confess I’ve flipped through those pages a few times and each time I quietly place the diary down and slowly walk backwards out of the room. I gently close the door behind me, take a deep breath and watch the branches on my prayer list bud into new more complex items. She’d give Sherlock Holmes sleepless nights. Anyways here is the story. After soul nourishment in Teso with my parents, hubby dearest suggested we stop in Jinja for family time small-small. We were happy to sleep late, wakeup late and lounge around refreshment away from America’s rat race. This is how it goe

African Dance

Have you listened to Amapiano? Man! The log drum hits different. It irons out emotions on its threshing floor. When faced with those gentle persistent hills on a morning jog, the log drum pushes me forward, it gives me resolve. As my heart races and my lungs expand for air, the log drum keeps my feet in motion with its sequence: one-one, two-two, one-two, two-one, five-five, a hundred. “You can do it!” I go. 3 miles, 4 miles… nice!  The African drumbeat speaks and African’s love rhythm, it is magical. Rhythm reaches deep into our souls. It gets people going. I listened to the drum beat in Jinja, by the Nile River – the translation of the rhythm in to language was not lost on me. The drummer layered sensual sentences into his beats – you listen and know, then you watch people dance – the communication is complete. It is crazy.  But have you also noticed that most traditional African dances are racy? I guess there are only a set number of body parts that can groove. I had never thought