THIS IS A SLICE OF AFRICA FOR YOU

A few blogs back I talked about being in the "Rat Race"; this race has taken me to quite a few places, in pursuit of that much sought after "gold". In Africa I have traveled to at least more than 8 countries, but not much else where (just to a few others outside of Africa). The DRC Congo for me was the most amazing place to fly over; until I did, I had no idea one can take over 90 minutes to simply cross a forest flying a jet engine (the Congo Forests are the most amazing I have seen from the air). Before then my previous experience flying over any forest was the Mabira on the Nairobi – Entebbe route. This one is only a 5-minute affair, so imagine what 90 minutes must have felt like. By the way, some have alleged that Africa is by far the largest continent; they claim that the geography we were taught in our schools was deliberately skewed to make it seem otherwise. I am tempted to think this must be true going by the amount of time it takes to fly diagonally from Nairobi to Accra. Anyway, I hated geography in school to the extent that I never read (revised for exams) at all perhaps 4 months before the UCE exams; I managed a credit 4 score. In Ghana, on the streets of Accra, I was met with people that are so amiable and at east (not so on Nairobi streets). I was not afraid to walk on the streets of Accra by myself by my second visit. In fact, I took my self to downtown Accra and was totally at ease among the people there. My highlight in Ghana was attending Sunday church Service at the International Central Gospel Church, pastored by a great African Pastor, Dr. Mensa Otabil. He never disappointed as that day he took us back to the roots in his sermon about wisdom and why its important.

Among the Africans, the Ghanaians and the Malawians come quite close to Ugandans in terms of mannerisms and cultures (my opinion). I once was asked a strange question by a black South African (she was Xhosa) after I had trained with them for over 3 months. This question took me aback and I failed to answer it, considering it was the last thing I expected anyone that I thought of as my friend to ask: at the tea break at one of the training days, Kilebokhile suddenly asked me "why do you come over here to train; don't you have schools over where you come from ?"; never mind I had paid top Dollar to do this course. That same evening as I walked back to my B&B, a white gentleman stopped his car and cordially offered me a lift ( got many such offers, but never from my Black African brothers). Therefore, seeing the xenophobic attacks a few years later never surprised me. I remember in Namilyango College where I did my secondary school seeing a South African guy that used to train hard at the martial arts every evening. The rumors were rife in my Senior 1 class that this guy was a combatant from the ANC; he was 3 classes ahead of us. What I know is that when Nelson Mandela was released from jail, this guy disappeared, and we only heard that he had returned to his home country together with many others like him. I heard that Kaweweta military training school in Singo was actually first opened to train these ANC combatants. It was a breath of fresh air therefore when I saw this video of EFFs Julius Malema rebuking the black South Africans during the most recent attacks in 2019 with these very facts about the sacrifices of other Africans done for their freedom. This conversation brings to mind the Ugandans woes in the South Sudan, where Ugandans are treated like second class citizens...but yet, Ugandan blood flowed in the South Sudan till a nation was birthed there. To date I see South Sudan “brothas” and “sistas” freely roaming the suburbs of Kampala. And no one even takes notice. It makes me wonder why Africans keep doing such terrible things to each other; how soon we forget the goodness of others to us.

AH, I forgot that we were dealing with much lighter matters here; Whilst in Malawi I found Chichewa (a local dialect from Malawi & Zambia) rather cryptic until over a period of 3 months that’s all I had heard; then I started to hear stuff: "Muli bwangi?" translated "are you well ?" sounded a lot like my own "Muli Bulungi?", "Mwatzuka bwangi?" meaning "did you wake up well?" sounded a lot like "Mwazukuse Bulungi?" when directly translated. I hear the Bantu peoples came from the mountains in the Cameroon, run down towards the Congo, curved into East Africa, went South west and further down through Tanzania, Malawi, Zambia and finally South Africa ! I wonder where next had they not been stopped on both sides by two conspiring Oceans, the Indian on the East and the Atlantic on the west. I remember the western Cape for this "Fish Place" we were taken to one evening; we ate fishes of all types and sizes and cuisine ! I never ate any thing fish for 6 months after that day! But in South Africa I cannot say I understood a word by those Bantu except "Amanzi" meaning water. By the way, I taught myself the little Swahili I know, and I surely can get by decently with it; when I traveled to Kenya for the first time I reinforced my ear for it. In 2010 I traveled to Zanzibar for an office retreat; it was beautiful, but I soon found out that humidity is a kill joy; too much of it there. Seychelles is beautiful but I found Mauritius more amazing; it is beautiful and also beautifully manicured and gives us Africans something to think about as we go about moving from third world to first.

The DR Congo is by far the saddest of my travels. I landed at the N'Djili International Airport (Kinshasa Int'l) at about 9 p.m. My first shock was that my luggage never made the carousel. Now, that would be but a small problem except for the fact that I last spoke French in my Senior 2 as I prepared for my exams! I could not communicate much! I was only saved by the bell when my chaperone came through looking for me and eventually, we were able to get things moving. But, that was not the sad thing. That airport looked abandoned, almost as if the building had last been used 5 years before. No new coat of paint had seen this building clearly for many years. The entire episode of 2 hours I spent at the airport allowed me to see more than the average traveler. This is the richest African country, by natural resources and talent, but little about presentation tells that story. Good thing is that Kinshasa is kind of making her way back but still has some way to go. I managed to sneak into the back alleys of Kinshasa (due to the nature of my work) when I now understood where that name "Katanga" was picked from to baptize that place in Wandegeya. I spent about a week in Kinshasa but by the time I was flying out I could manage a few phrases in French! Had I stayed another week I would be speaking entire conversations (I think). I bought some of the best gospel music from Kinshasa on that visit (try listening to Mike Kalambay). I loved Kinshasa and I would not mind travelling there again. Actually my most un pleasant moment on that visit was caused by my own fellow Ugandans, UTL! I remember I had huge credit on my phone worth 1.5 m shillings. I made phone calls not worth more than 1 hour over 3 days and my credit run out! I never reloaded my UTL airtime again to date (the number of course eventually became inactive and is out of use now).

Its amazing how similar most African cultures are, but also amazing is the way we emphasize our differences. I wait to see the day when Africa shall be one.

RELIGION, CHRISTIANITY AND ME

Growing up, my paternal Grandmother frequented our home. We lived about 8 miles apart. Often once a month on a Sunday morning she would be at the gate by 7 a.m. Never mind that at 80 years of age, she braved that journey often without promise of a motor vehicle to give her a lift; she was ready to walk the entire 8 miles at least once a month.  Granny did this for each of her surviving 3 sons with the same energy and frequency. To date I am amazed at how an 80 year old woman would be ready to walk such a distance without complaint. We all called Granny “Jajja Domiso" an acronym of the beginning solfar notes (Do - Mi - So) from the hymn "I heard the voice of Jesus say" written by Horatius Bonar (1808-1889).

Jajja Domiso taught us that hymn and we learned it in Luganda by heart (we learned the solfar notes by heart as well !). So Jajja's practice when she arrived at home was to take a shower, get out her neat Gomesi, take her breakfast, and head off to Mulago hospital to preach to the patients at this referral hospital that needed to hear the words of hope; we stayed in Mulago, near Kalerwe only less  than a kilometer away from this hospital. She was back at home by 2 p.m. of the same day to take her shower, eat her meal and then lead us in singing of hymns, reading of scriptures from the Holy Bible in Luganda (since my first recollection I can recite psalms 23 by heart in Luganda), and then discuss our learnings. After this session, she led in prayer and then immediately set off back to her abode. This time however she took a taxi back to the last 2 miles which she usually walked back all the way. I hated these prayer sessions because they took away my fun (or so I thought) of my play time; she often asked if anyone wanted to accept Jesus as LORD and savior, but none of the naughty "us" cared much for her God. So I anxiously waited for when we could walk her back to her taxi and then rush back home to play. Jajja loved us all and we all loved her too anyway.

My elder brother Ed joined Kings College Buddo straight from boarding school outside the country. I never got to see much of him up to until this point in time. I recall him coming back home after the first term in secondary school was done, preaching about the same God of Jajja Domiso, but this time with a deep conviction carried upon the sound of his words. We loved to hate them. Kind of we wanted his to stop, but at the same time they were captivating. For the first time, in life I felt the urgency to accept Jesus as LORD and savior; else my life was in so much trouble, like Ed had told us. so, for the fear of the Hell Fire, I got born again once every 4 months when he returned home for school holidays. Each time he left to go back after the holidays I relapsed to my old self but this time the words were ringing in my heart for much longer. This time however, I now had the conviction that I needed to urgently change something in my life and give my life to Jesus; I was only 9 years of age when these episodes begun. I wanted to have the "fun" of adolescence and growing up that was fast catching up with me; however it now seemed that both Ed and Jajja had surrounded me. It is almost as if Ed and conspired against us with Jajja and made this "born Again" thing a reality; I thought we had all agreed, albeit silently, that this was a scum not worth our time? But now was Ed, gathering us together every evening, opening scriptures and showing us where these things were written. This time the sermons and scripture readings were in English, the language of instruction at school. I think it now sounded more serious !

At school, in my P7 class, I had a classmate called Peace Ainebyonna. She was a quiet girl that sat somewhere near the front of the class. I went to Buganda road primary school. I now often visited St. Francis Chapel every Sunday (Ed had introduced us there, so we shifted our Sunday activities there). So now, even when he left to go back to school I kept going there alone (I stayed at home alone with mum each school term as all my siblings were whisked off to boarding school). I somehow felt like I had outgrown the Sunday school, so I had started praying in the grown-ups chapel. this particular Sunday on 20th January 1986, this guy that preached spoke with so much conviction and the words pierced me through. I could not hold back when he made the alter call. I remember I walked to the front when he made the invitation for the alter call. I later on realized that only 2 juveniles showed up to the front: myself and Peace Ainebyonna (I wonder where she is today). Up to date I still do not recall the preacher’s names. In fact I think he must have gone back home discouraged that "only" 2 small insignificant kids had showed up after such a sermon to turn many to the LORD! I wish I could recall the preachers name and follow him up to just let him know he sowed an everlasting seed that day! That day was my turning point as I finally made a real commitment to Jesus Christ, one that I have kept to date, through many dangers, toils and snares (in the words of John Newton, 1725-1807).

My walk in Salvation was soon thrown into the maze of learning to “fail forward” in Jesus and getting up to walk again. I joined Namilyango College a year later, a Roman Catholic founded school; it was here that I now finally grew up in faith! Much of this story I will tell at another time. However at the center of it all was a scripture Union fellowship that I found in this college, where we learned to pray, fast and walk as Christians. Here I met my lifelong friend and brother a one Julius Wegoye that now threw another dimension into my path. If there was someone that was "posted" to ensure that I grew in the LORD, this was it. Julius was a no nonsense disciplinarian (never mind we were age mates) that ensured we worked out our salvation with fear and trembling, literally. I am glad for him. Now I know better, as I have grown. Then I needed that tough brotherly love to go down this path. I remember as a House Captain Julius had a separate room that we christened "Miracle Chambers" and we emblazoned the words boldly onto the door to this room. A lot of stories to be told on this at a later time. Much of what I am today was formed in the "Miracle Chambers”. Today, I am part of the pastoral team of a congregation for over 15 years now. A lot of people have gone through ministry the LORD has allowed me to dispense over the time. Some have gone on to minister to tens of thousands in this city, others to operate in giftings' I once thought of as long disappeared. It is amazing what the LORD can do with one life yielded, even when it’s only the life of a child.

As a child at 13 years of age, I accepted Jesus Christ as my personal savior; this is the best decision in life I have made. the deeper I get into the Bible and learn more about God, and get that ever increasing revelation of Him and His ways, I have become a firm believer in the Hebraic roots of Christianity and I think the church struggles with a lot of things including ignorance of the ways of God for want of recognizing this. Over time I have moved away from "religious practices" sometimes only to come back to them after realizing the true roots of them in the word of God. I have come to realize that one has got to walk the walk for themselves to understand God deeper. It’s good to sit in the church pews every Sunday, but it’s even better to get involved both at a personal and a corporate level. Only then do we get that ever increasing revelation of God. Today I can say that I do not live my life for anyone else, but God.

So, imagine what the seed of Jajja Domiso has achieved! She went on to be with the LORD aged 86 in 1986. On a normal day, as was her schedule, she woke up, put her tea pot on the fire and went to her garden to do her daily chores. She returned to her kitchen, as her routine was to make her tea, and that is where she was found collapsed in a coma, and about a week later she rested in her LORD arms finally.

It is hard for one to have such examples and later end up living life in an irresponsible way. Somehow, even when she could not speak the language of our generation, she did her part. Like Paul said in 1 Cor.3 verses 6 "I have planted, Apollos watered; but God gave the increase.” Jajja Domiso planted, Ed watered, and God continues to give the increase!

SINCE AM HERE NOW, I GUESS I MIGHT JUST AS WELL START...

Hello friends ! Welcome to my world !

I love to play sports, mostly contact sports though its been a while since I did some real playing. I used to play soccer mostly for the fun of it. I have tried my hand at the martial arts as well and I think they are good for good health. I play table tennis and lawn tennis but have not had a good game in a while, a long while as I lost my way somewhere along this "Rat race" ! but like the Terminator "I'll be back !". I love cars, and I once dreamed of being into motor rallying; the dream eluded me ! I love speed, until Caleb my son came along.I also love board games, both Brainy and naughty ones: Chess, Draughts, scrabble, Ludo, snakes and ladders, and others. I love to study leadership. I love to study the bible too (I did not just say read but rather study). I love History (I watch the channel religiously) yet I hated History in School ! what an oxymoron !

Now, this is my first blog and there will be many more to come. I intend to dump my thoughts right here (hopefully you find them profound). My blog will be about life and its goings on, from my perspective though yours will be welcome here on my turf as well, but I must warn you in advance, do not begin anything you will not carry through to the end, and I only mean discussions here this blog.

Today let me share more about my country. I am privileged to live in a beautiful country; Uganda is my home country. This must have been the great garden of Eden mentioned in the bible. Uganda is such a beautiful country that I fail to finds its equal so far. The climate is well tempered ( I once traveled to Accra, Ghana and even a tree shade would not help cool me down !), the people are great, the soils seem to hold whatever you drop into them and thereafter return abundant harvest; the waters are fresh and the fruit is great. A meal in Uganda is not complete if variety of foods is not served. I honestly haven't found tastier food anywhere else. The food is alive even as you eat it. 

I have lived to see about 3 different kinds of Uganda in my lifetime; the one of H.E Field Marshall Idi Amin CBE, VSC,etc... (just a tiny, winy bit - I was old enough to understand terror), the one of Dr. Apollo Milton Obote 2 regime as its famously often referred to, and the one of Jjajja Yoweri Kaguta Museveni (He has referred to my sons generation as "Bazzukulu" meaning "Grand Children". All these experiences have taught me many things about life, country and leadership. A bit on this; at an early age I learned to take cover (hit the deck as they say) at the sound of any gun fire. I remember this one time in 1984 as I walked back from school, tired and hungry and observing any thing that cared to present itself; all of a sudden, the quiet and lazy pedestrians had their peace disturbed by a bunch of 10 gun wielding special forces officers as they opened a hail of gunfire only just as I approached where they stood ! Apparently they were "looking" for a renegade colleague; never in life have I ever heard a sound so crude. All I can tell you is that my reflexes and muscle memory kicked in as I dove onto the ground, rolled and found my refuge behind a huge tree, until the gunfire ceased (many more stories on this to come). That was rather common in those days; from that to a place where right now it is actually abnormal to heard the sound of gunfire in Uganda.Surely the guns fell silent.

Ugandan people are creative and love fun, perhaps sometimes a bit too much. Ugandans are an extremely competitive people in a rather subtle way and let me elaborate. We have been told often that Ugandans are found to have a rather lacking and non competitive work ethic that makes us rather disregarded in the white collar world. What amazes me is a place called "Kikuubo" (meaning "Long Corridor" after the topography of street where it all started) in Kampala the capital city. For those that don't know, this is the "Dubai" of East Africa. Traders come from near and far to trade from this place; I have met traders from the DR Congo, Kenya, Rwanda, Burundi, etc all this is one place. There is possibly no other place like it in the Great Lakes region. I have been told stories of extremely wealthy men and women (I mean in millions of US Dollars) that run business in this place. Now this baffles me as it seems to portray a different kind of "serious" Ugandan's can have. It is Ugandans that opened the way for the rest of the Africans in South Sudan and Somalia. Kampala, the capital, is one of those places in Africa where the city does not sleep. Ugandans stay awake up to very late (or rather into the wee hours of the morning); they stay awake to party but also to work. I have been to African cities where people are asleep by 9 p.m. Lately Kampala does not sleep as it is not abnormal to catch a traffic jam in Kampala at 11 p.m. You have to live among Ugandans to understand them, else you miss the point.

The level of artisans work in Uganda is advancing so fast that one only needs to introduce a new type of popular furniture before Ugandan's have replicated it. A friend from Malawi once commented to me about the good quality of our furniture at the Ugandan road side "show rooms". Then there is WAKALIGAWOOD the Ugandan version of Hollywood; these guys are not churning out Ugandan movies on every theme. I recall the music scene in the late 1980's; it is a far cry in quality of production from what Ugandan music right now is. Is it not the Ugandans that led the way in many missions to save the world ? I can mention places we all know about: Somalia, Liberia, Sudan, Rwanda, Iraq etc. 

In 2011, the Ugandan economy was under severe distress; there was hyper inflation and government had to begin some sort of austerity measures to control the runaway economy. Another country I visited around the same time had similar issues. Uganda right now seems to have recovered despite the fact that the tax burden has not been eased but rather increased. It is interesting however to note that the economy seems to have made a turn around to a great extent, a clear testament to the ingenious hard work of the Ugandan men and women hustlers. These are the true champions of our economy. The other African country still struggles to date with worse issues. Show me any place in the world and I will show you a Ugandan. My people are hustlers.

So I am privileged to be Ugandan. I love my country and its people.  I love Uganda !

Happy blogging ! Welcome to my world !