Michael Jackson dead!

I didn't see this coming.

I'm watching Mich trying to spin around and moon walk (backslide) - really hilarious.
He had no clue who MJ was until today, now he is asking whether Michael Jackson will come back.

Why he is so famous, what he did, if the whole world is going to be at the LA hospital.

My memory of Michael is stuck in the time of Jackson 5, "Beat it", "Thriller"and "Off the wall" - Billie Jean, The Girl is mine, Fever, Bad - man! the list is endless.
I'm thinking - shiny white socks and pulled up sleeves and how we tried to imitate the look, yeah! even the girls.

Reminds me of the day Princess Diana passed away, the chaos, the questions, the confusion, the media buzzzzzzzzzzz.
These are events that stands out in my mind - leaving me speechless.

Michael was a weird guy, but he did amazing stuff in the music arena and boy! those dance moves will always be BAD!

So long King of Pop.

Play on

June 21st

The clock chimes
It strikes another hour
Another year ends – begins
Wrinkles and scars on this ebony mark a path
Each with a story
Of Sacrifice and love
Of errors and errands

Yesterday, I danced playfully to nursery rhymes
Today, the steps are intricately sophisticated
Sometimes the music blends with my heart beat
Sometimes I’m flustered and I lose my step
I’m still on the dance floor, mastering this skill called life
Drummer, play on
Beat the drum, so that I might pass on the rhythm
Play on till I can sway no more.

I'm a year older today, funny that it's fathers day too.
Double celebration in the "O" house hold.

Where were you in January of 1986?

If you were not born, never mind – I’ll just go ahead and date myself.
In January of ’86 I was under the table, for the most part. No! I was not playing “hide and seek”, but I was hiding and desperately praying that the army men would not come seeking in our house.

Ordinarily Simon and I were dropped off to school and we rushed to our respective classes. Depending on the day we studied Math, English, Science and Social studies: played a little bit during break and lunch time, then had a blast running around after class until we were picked up. The preceding months however were no ordinary months, they were filled with uncertainty. Typically the days started off dull, and just as we were being lulled by the usual, cars zoomed into the school compound. Drivers and parents were picking up their kids, it was rumored that war was breaking out.

The country was going through strife, Tito Okello had just over thrown President Obote in a coup and so far no body knew what would happen next.
After 2 weeks or so, there was seemingly less chaos around the city. People were back on the streets, cars whizzed passed, children were dropped off to school, and parents went to work.
But friends whose parents were government ministers stopped showing up at school, some had fled the country, others were barricaded in their homes – unsettled about the future.

Road blocks were the order of the day. One couldn’t travel more than 20 meters without being stopped for a check. Woe unto you if you didn’t have an ID or if you looked of age and didn’t have an ID. My brother would have opted for anti growth hormones (if they existed); mom had to profusely plead and swear that he was only a kid – he was only 11 but his height was a serious factor.
The officers, dressed in army uniform and speaking Kiswahili didn’t care to smile what so ever. At each road block you prayed you would get passed without any trouble. You would get the sudden urge to use the bathroom if the officer raised his voice or if by some bad luck he wasn’t having a good day.
If he looked at your ID too long and decided you were not the same person because; - you cut your hair, lost weight or smiled when your photo had a sullen look - “Ka chini! we adui!” meaning – “lie down you are one of the enemies”.
You wanted to use the bathroom with even more urgency when you found friends and neighbors humbly sitting at the road blocks probably because they had no identification or any of the above reasons.

Ahh! Those were the days - gun shots on the streets were like music in a dance hall. One pop sent every one cowering for cover.
As if that was not enough, if some one decided to run for some reason, say they needed to get to place in a hurry or they tripped over a stone and trotted a head to avoid falling – the whole city begun to run. It was a ripple effect.
People seldom stopped to ask “why?” the motto was - run for your life and ask questions later. Those who dared to ask were told, and most times by someone who had no clue why they themselves were running – “they are coming” and if they went on to ask “who?” they were told “err… you wait and see”. At that point even the most curious didn’t wait to see.
We spent weeks on end running all over the city. Businesses were closed in the middle of the day – owners running for safety.
Shops were ransacked and looted on a daily basis; - army men took money and other valuables at check points. Such was the life.

When it was safe to come out again and the gun shots had stopped popping, people languidly stepped out of their homes. On most occasions it was in an effort to trace relatives, friends and neighbors who didn’t return the day the drunken sounding man announced on radio
“Dis iss Brigadier so and so. Deya hass bin a coup. … General Tito Okello Lutwa iss de presssident of Uganda. We are not goin to lib any stones unturned until we finiss all ob our enemis”
We held the hope that the missing persons had found fortress some where else, but news that their bodies were seen lying in some trench, on a street or by the road side left many bereaved. The next trek would be to the mortuary, hoping to identify them and give a half decent burial.

It had been about 6 months since all the chaos had seemingly died down.
I went to school as usual and then at about 10 am, drivers and parents started arriving again, picking up our friends and telling teachers how the city was not safe.
It was rumored that war had broken out in Luwero and that the army, led by a man called Museveni was taking over towns and was headed for Kampala, the capital city.
Before I knew it, our driver was at my class room door – it was time to head home.

I had not been feeling too well that day, so we passed by Poly family clinic in Kisementi to get some medicine. Before long I was groaning in pain, my head felt so light and the walls were spinning. Mummy came home from work and found me lying in the sitting room. She had been stopped at a road block and the army man had taken all her money. That was sad, but we were glad that she was safe.
I didn’t know that we were going to spend the next weeks crawling on the floor to avoid stray bullets. I didn’t know that we would spend the nights huddled together in the dinning room – no body cared for soft, cozy beds at that point.
I had no idea that we were going to spend the weeks, eating rice and beans, posho and beans, beans and more beans.
No one cared for TV any more but we constantly listened to news on Radio Uganda. I was sick to my stomach the entire time - turns out I had malaria. We crawled to and from the bathroom; lights were out the entire period. We saved on everything, water, electricity, food – amazing what human beings can do without in times of crisis.

Uganda is a lot better now or is it? That is a whole other can of worms which I chose not to open.

So you tell me, where were you?

Mzungu kafunda in Texas

A few weeks ago, Sam and I drove out to a Dallas village.
I’m malnourished for a better description of the place – so bear with me when I say "village". It’s out there, almost in the middle of no where - lone buildings;- run down, unattended, dry trees, that kind of thing.

We were thinking of relocating but the scenery had my stomach twisted in locks. I begun to picture myself speaking sluggishly, donned in an apron, with a huge truck parked in our backyarrrd. I'd be ignorant of events that happened in the rest of the world; then I'd get all excited and stuff to see the city again, I would be opened mouthed and extremely shy.
Not a good picture!

We visited this one apartment where the realtor wouldn’t stop talking. She was so upbeat like that - like she had been waiting just for us. After business, she recommended we check out this place called "Babes Chicken Dinner house". Apparently it’s the hot spot for lunch in the area.
Now, either the location was discreet or the signs were not strategically located but it took us a while to find the ‘joint’.
On an old street, forsaken and quiet like that, but Babes was smokin’. There were cars parked for miles around – ok so I have exaggerated, but there were lots - an assortment of bikes, pickups, trucks, sleek machines - that kind of thing.

As soon as we stepped in, I was hit with the smell of old wood, cleaning detergent, chickenpotatosaladcorngravy of many years - generally the kafunda smell. Tables were filled and all human kind were represented; babies, toddlers, teens, adults, moms, dads, grand parents – the works.

A pretty baby-faced girl led us to our table and politely said she would be at our beck and call.

From their name, it’s clear that Chicken rules! They serve enormous chicken chunks with an assortment of side dishes.

You would officially be a sinner if you actually sat and finished a meal - even hungry men can't handle their portions. So they hang paper bags all around for doggie bag purposes.

As we waited for our order I took one look at the ceiling and decided not to look again – it had wood chunks crisscrossing all over the place, as if they decided to chill construction half way back in the 1930's.

The music was kadongo kamu Texas style - yeah! Picture Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers or cowboys with handkerchiefs around their necks.

Kind of like this:

In the middle of our meal, all the waitresses - looking all sleek in white t shirts and blue jeans made two lines in the centre aisle and begun to dance. Now, tell me, who can eat when such unique events are unravelling? I was excited by the "Boots scoot and boogie" dance, which I found out by adorning the 'African tourist' hat - come on, I meant that figuratively.

The chicken was awesome! It never tasted mmm so good!

Babe takes the cup hands down.

On our way out, Mama Gundi emerged from the kitchen.

I tell you, it's official: all mama Gundis' are the same size the world over. She offered Sam a bag of tomatoes which he politely declined. I almost denied him immediately, how do you pass up free home grown tomatoes? that is not right.

I had to get the tomatoes.

In the blink of an eye!

It’s a week since term ended for my pre schooler.
Now he can’t wait to run outside and play, to ask questions about everything under the sun and to challenge my authority.

It's amazing how much he has grown over the last 5 months.
When he first joined his class, he could hardly write his name, now, it’s a breeze.
He used to throw heavy tantrums when asked to color a picture or do anything on a piece of paper - his life literally fell apart; he was stressed and feverish to say the least. I was frustrated too; I worried that he would be that kid who was always blank in class.
Horror stories flooded my mind and the little hope of grooming a genius crept out the window.
Ms Dee said, give him time. He has a lot to adjust to; the kids in his class are a little ahead on things, he has recently moved to a new school, he is in a new home – cut him some slack.
I begun to yield to that although the strict, matter of fact, you’ve got to learn by force streak kept rearing its head.
As I loosened my grip and put pressure aside, I noticed a beautiful change.
He was happier to skip along to school, talked about his friends when he came home, loved his teacher and so much more.
He makes me beam from ear to ear and my heart swells with pride.
It’s the little things he does and says, the evidence that he listens to me even though he finds it hard to obey immediately – (we all struggle with obedience anyway).

I wish I had a recorder on the ready for when he makes his interesting statements and shares his thoughts.
On our way to church;
“I can’t believe I’m going to be a big brother. That means I will be looking after my brothers and sisters. But my bicycle is getting real small.
Mummy, we need to pray quickly for them to come”.
Sam happened to mention that a friend of his was starting his own firm and Mich interjects “You mean he is going to buy his own cows?”
Or when he asks questions like “How much does an ant weigh?
“We are Jesus’ little ants and Jesus never kills little ants”
Then he asks “Mummy, how many ants are there in the world?”
At times he is too excited about ants – must be summer.
“Mummy, why are cars painted one color?”
“Mummy, how does Jesus give you your punishment?”
“Mummy, why do you close your eyes when you’re praying?”
I got all wise and said – “so that I don’t get distracted and it helps me to concentrate”
Mich – “yeah and also you get to see the angels”

Mich can now ride a two wheeler!
I didn't see this coming and I have been watching, well at least I thought I was.
So one day he says he would like to have his training wheels removed, I’m thinking “no way, you still got some more practicing to do”. Then Sam glimpsed him riding a friend’s bike, a bigger bike, without training wheels! but just like good old Thomas, I needed to see to believe.
We removed his training wheels and viola! He rode off like he had been at it for the last 20 years. "In the blink of an eye!” – this growing thing is crazy, it happens way too fast.
Good for him! I learned to ride on a big squeaky ‘hero’ bicycle when I was about 11. I fell countless times and my coach – Simon, who also happened to be my brother wasn’t much help, especially when he saw me riding right into bushes at a terrific speed and the metal thing we called a bicycle had no brakes. He said that was the way to learn.

Any way, now Mich can survive among the village boys in Ochapa without a problem, I’m sure they will teach him how to dig his heels into the dust in case the bicycle has no brakes.

Creatures in the Fortworth Zoo

Another silent birthday

June 5th

This would have been your 3rd birthday Nziiza.
I bet You thought I would forget.
No!
Not so soon, I miss you, I miss you lots.
Feels like you left just yesterday.

I look at your dad and your resemblance hits me smirk in the face.
Mich constantly wishes he had a brother.
You two would have made a great team - interjected with countless fights but good all the same.

Shall thoughts of you ever cease? I don’t think so.
A mother can not forget the child she has borne.


Yup! Still have the cute cream box with your wee possessions;- finger prints, foot prints, photos, receiving blanket and hoods – you sure gathered quite a bit for the hour or so that you were here.
I can’t help wondering what you would be doing now, I mean apart from pestering your big brother. But I’m glad to know you are with Jesus and if I keep the faith I will definitely see you again.

Love you

Mom

Summer time

Summer is upon us. Not sure whether to be elated or depressed.
It’s a fun time for the kids to go swimming and splashing, biking and hiking, rolling and strolling and making big messes.
It’s a great time to go on vacation, to visit sights you’ve been saving up for (credit crunch with standing). It’s time for family and fun, beaches and searches, laughing and basking in the sun's beautiful rays.
That is all good.

But when the girls decide - “Oh! It’s so hot, I could take off my skin”, I shudder.
They walk around skimpily dressed “look mom – arms, look mom – legs, look mom – kundishow, look mom – back show”, all over a sudden skin is out there like a problem. And it is a problem - guys are drooling, tripping, whistling, gazing and all that stuff. I once read a report that said men are more unfaithful to their partners in the summer, hmmm! wonder why?!.
In the winter you barely see skin, in the summer it’s a whole lot of revenge – the starved eat to their fill.
Ever seen a guy moving a round in briefs? It’s near impossible to see guys strictly in shorts – except at the pool, but the ladies?! - every where.

Ok, so it gets hot in Africa but kama mbaya mbaya, suits and coats are the order of the day; and ladies (for the most part) remain covered. Maybe African women don’t have the freedom - they are trapped in culture’s claws.
Could the heat over here be one to recon with? the Sun gets more furious when he looks in our direction?
Hmmm! Maybe that is why cancers are at an all time high over here – too much exposure.

Anyway, I’m told it’s called “my rights”, “if it feels good - do it”
I don’t know.
What ever happened to decency? And please don’t play my mind with “it depends on what the meaning of decency is”.
Oh well! I’ll lead my life and live what I believe. I don't need to take my clothes off for people to acknowledge I look good.

7 Salsas - Honey moon

This February I received a letter inviting me to a check out a restaurant called 7 Salsas.
The Letter.

Too good to be true right?! I was amazed by Robert’s business sense.

Would any restaurant owner in Uganda ever consider doing this?
All he asked was for us to give him a try.

When our anniversary swung around, we took Robert up on his offer - (I know, it’s like 4 months later but you know how life is).
There was a young lady/girl looking all cute and pretty at the door, she welcomed us with a smile and ushered us to cozy seats at the balcony. It was a nice cool evening and people were just beginning to trickle in for dinner.

A waiter immediately came over with chips and a spicy warm salsa dip – mmm good!
As we munched and engaged in small talk, the manager made his way to our table; He welcomed us again and offered two margaritas on the house – sweet!!
Sam ordered a Cha-cha Chimichanga (A giant flour tortilla stuffed with rice and either chicken or beef. Topped with chile con queso, served with guacamole and sour cream) and I requested a Fish Taco (2 crispy tacos filled with tilapia, cabbage and chipotle avocado dressing, served with veggies and rice).
The food was delivered faster than I could say “happy anniversary”. After our first bites the manager was back to find out if we liked it – “oh yeah! This is great stuff”.
Two bites later (ok as if), the waiter came to check if we needed anything, - “thanks, we are doing just fine”.

Meanwhile the margarita was getting to my head - I was already beginning to smile and my cheeks were hot hot; (that’s about the closest I get to alcohol, with a little wine now and then).
Mexican food is tasty! The fresh spices felt like party poppers going off on my tongue (I mean that in a totally good way) - I loved the way all my senses came alive.

We ate to our fill with the waiter and manager checking on us every 3 minutes.
I forgot about desert – but as you know, with desert you NEVER fail to find space, especially when it’s on the house.
Because our waiter had a thick Mexican accent I didn’t quite register the name of my desert, all I knew was – he recommended it and boy! Did it taste heavenly – toffee, coffee, caramel ish. Sam had fried ice cream which was as heaped as a plate of posho served in the village.
No, it didn’t taste like posho, it just looked like it.



This is TX after all and as they say “everything is big in Texas”.
It tasted great with rumors of cinnamon flavor all over the place.
By the end we were near groaning like Didi after his frantic search for the diamond filled jam jar.
Now obviously we couldn't’t leave without giving our ratings on the service, food and ambiance – that was part of the package after all. We told them everything was superb - just tone down on the thick Mexican accents (unedited version).
The margarita had really done its thing, so I stood up very slowly, held on to the chairs as I walked out – with a big smile of course, but I couldn't’t wait to get to the car so I could sit again.

7 salsas was the bomb!

How does it get the name? well, this picture says it all. They serve their dishes with the regular 6 salsas but the 7th, the one in the white dish is custom made in his kitchen. The 7th Salsa ... or something like that.

June Bride

"Oh, they say when you marry in June,
You're a bride all your life.
And the bridegroom who marries in June
Gets a sweetheart for a wife".

Yeeey! It's 8 years today since Sam and I made the oath "to have and to hold" .
For better for worse - yup
For richer for poorer - that too
In sickness and in health - we came through

I'm always delighted when the month of June rolls around. It's not only a mark that the year is almost half way done but birthdays and anniversaries are here. Sam and I couldn't have gotten married or been born in a better month.

Our love grows And on Christ the Solid Rock we stand.

There is so much to say and yet this time I'm sort of speechless. But I thank God for His presence in our lives, the gift of Mich and the way He watches over our marriage.

I give God the glory!