All Work and Play

This morning, Some one told me that I wasn’t qualified to write about Marriage, for they imagined, after reading the headline To Have and To Hold, that the column in Monday’s  Monitor (people,places) is about marriage.

So let’s see, reading the headline alone, and especially my particular headlines, does not qualify you to make judgments.

Suffice it to say, I am as qualified to write about marriage as the next woman. I might not be married, and probably will not get there, and I will probably not get there (I have to write it twice, to undo the jinx), but hey, I haven’t met one married woman telling the truth about this sacred institution.

Instead they are pushing their friends, daughters and whoever else to join them in what they shall never get into details about- marriage.

So the person who was disqualifying me on the column (which has nothing to do with marriage by the way, and my piece was about true love and lasting relationships), said that I have to be married to know what exactly it is about, because all I know is based on ‘above the surface observation’.

So what have I missed out, I asked; the bitter truth, the tears in the middle of the night… begging him to touch you, willing for him to make love with you and not to just do his obligatory marital duties- and this swings both ways. (Oh by the way, she didn’t mention these things, but I made them out by the way she looked at me when I asked what I have missed out in my observation).

I would like to point out that I have, for as long as I can remember respected the institution of marriage and married people; especially the stable and happily married (even seemingly).

But don’t get fooled, am not as impressionable. I know marriage is not all about the Idos, Sunday lunch with the in-laws, and raising those little rag-rats together- okay, that’s what it is about. What I am trying to say here is that I know it’s not easy; there is a lot of giving up and giving in. Being hopeful and believing in the invisible.

It is a lot of planning, and seeing beyond today; having a vision and no just for yourself but everyone involved. It is, in simple language, an institution you can never exactly be ready for, but when you get into it, then you are.

Like my Grand mother used to say, Nha Mwana Ubyara Undi (no child gives birth to another). By the time you have a child, then you are old enough, you are an adult. Like wise, by the time you get married, when you do get married, then you are ready for whatever. 

Jazz Me Jazmine (?!)

I am almost certain that the noise is down and ceasing.

That not even one Ugandan is standing on top of some little table somewhere throwing spit in other people’s faces- arguing.  Arguing over, of all things, Big Brother Africa 2.

Wondering why Richard Bezuidenhout took the money/ saying he shouldnt have/’wasnt worth it/ and “stuff, stuff, stuff.”

Uganda raised Richard, it educated him, it contributed, largerly, to the man that we all saw in that house. And Uganda did vote for her step son to take the dollars home- his real home. End of story.

Back to me (naturally). I have been listening to some great (maybe new) music and am loving it all, the vidoes are just as great.

Any one watched Wall to Wall recently (Chris Brown)? Totally C.R.E.A.T.I.V.E.  And I say the very same (with a raised and animated voice however) about Hip-Hop Police  (Chamillionare).   I would so love to see what more this brotha comes up with- he got his own flow, his wild sense of humour (of Paris Hilton and “breaking news” on major networks) and he is out of the shadow of Fiddy and those others.

And little Mister Brown; Baby boy went and named dropped on his new album. I will let you in on one thing though—it’s all Chris Brown, none of those big names upstaged him. atleast not on the music i have listened to.

Britney Spears. I have watched her on E news more than is healthy this year. And in between my t.v time and worrying about her mental state, her album went number two, during it’s first week on the market.  Yeah, poor Britney indeed.

And is it just I or  should K fm quit playing Same Girl (R.Kelly/ Usher). Seriously, the world is over it. There are jams that should be on repeat, like  forever (well that’s what i feel right now).  

So from me to K fm, R.Kelly is over that girl because he is now ROCK STAR!  So play that. Rock Star (R. Kelly, Ludacris and Kid Rock).

And then finally; i would like to announce my new love. she is Nigerian, she sings Soul/folk music ….and am grinning from ear to ear right now… her videos have got depth…. I am so into her right now.

People. Sade has definately got a cousin. Young, fresh and very talented. Ayo is her name. Play that song again!

$$$$$Down on my knees$$$$$$Help is coming$$$$$$

Merry Christmas Little Angels

 It is almost mid-November. The malls are blingy. Already.

It is a conspiracy- to take alot more of our little shillings and we are supposed take it well; in the christmas spirit.

It is a sign that the sharks are out; the crime rate should rise. People need money to buy some bling of their own. and it dont come cheap.

It  is a statement. Light up, get some colour. Smile and bling alittle- the big birth anniversary is here!

It is this that am feeding off. They got me. I am excited, for once in about three years.

I had given up on christmas. It had become my time to complain- the entire month, spilling right into the new year; ” stupid days that mean absolutely nothing.”  ”Monotony.”  “Jesus’ birthday yea right!”

But then again, am a trend conscious person (following the trends long after they’re past).  It had become trendy to diss chrstmas. With all these Bad Santa, How the Grintch Stole Christmas, Christmas with the Kranks movies, it was fashionable to make fun of christmas.

And now, am back to old times. Like old times, am excited. Am excited over the decorated malls. I am ready to embrace the month of December; am excited about this big birthday. And like a child, I cant wait for christmas!

This is going to be the second christmas since i left school and am still not excatly out of school- there’s so much so many people would say about that,  but i say it is pushing the envelop. Well, until a month ago.

The Christmas month is exciting; it’s colourful and it’s fast. there is alot of money changing hands, a number of first times, mixed emotions going on for a variety of reasons.

There is just too much happening in so little time. A whole year’s plan can happen in just one week of the christmas month.

I have plans for this month. Perhaps that’s why am excited, although not excatly (if you think this is confusing, you need a minute inside my head). 

I have planned to make the ’step-out’. and i have no idea if this is peer pressure or youth ignorance. whatever it is, I know i have been thinking about it for almost a year now.

I have also planned  to conclude that little something that has been stalling for a year now. And this is because a month ago, i knew that the envolep pushing wasnt that fun after all- I live for the fun in life.

I have requests to make to Santa just as well ( I live for the fun in life remember; and believing that there’s no Santa is not fun at all).

I plan to outline these request on a white sheet of paper (in pencil) and put them by my bed side, on the first day of the last week of November. 

and ofcourse i will do the PS thingy. With: i might have been a bad girl this year, but hey, I really need all this i have requested (only three) and i will never be bad again- promise.

Buy Me a Rose; Open the Door…

Today was bright, very bright actually, and this has nothing to do with the fact that I was wearing a bright yellow undershirt  ( oh i still am).

I have been in a terribly great mood; I said hi to every one. i smiled to all, and I almost said hi to my “not friend anymore” and ex-work partner.

Maureen Namatovu- that ugandan blah, blah, blah ( It’s getting old i know, but hey) was here for about an hour. Yes here in this office – paying a courtsey call, they told us.

she was warmly welcomed, atleast on our floor and especially this section of our office (not LittleJars dummy).

And all this while, when she was shaking hands, smiling and taking pictures with us ( staying true to her beauty queen roots) I was thinking; she is sooooo tiny and sweet how could Bertha (and Lerato) possibly be that mean to her. Cows.

Then the Code issue; I think i get it. I would go for a man like Code  – and this is all based on physical appearances – if I were a girl like Maureen. Totally (in her words).

Moving On.

A collegue recieved a parcel today sent to him by a former collegue. It was interesting; about ten newsletters and a t.shirt, which seemingly was meant for me (since its’s just I it fits) came out of that thick brown envelop.

 She, the former collegue, has come out in a very big way- not that she was in the closet all this while. I knew, almost everybody knew, but human nature is, you want to believe otherwise.

And now to set us “straight” she sends newsletters of which she is an editor that are titled; Freedom and Roam Uganda- Break The Chain!!!

it is  newsletter for Bisexuals, Lesbians, blah, blah, blah. Forget what it is about; it is great. Good story ideas- well thought out, nice illustrations. It is impressive.     

                       And the t-shirt i think am going to wear it some time, out of office. the most that has on  it is “Understanding Our Sexuality”.  I think I understood mine ages ago, but i would so love to see the expressions on all those people’s faces (WHAT!)

Back to my headline.

I once went out with this guy ( I am really in a good mood today). Yeah. I went out with this guy. He fancies himself American. He’s been there. he actually is over there right now.  He is Ugandan, a devout christian, is in the music industry, and again, he fancies himself American- white American.

So any how; this guy was all into treating me like a lady, which i so adore. guys whom I have dated know this about me. So we went on more dates than i had intended (in the begining).

But before he killed me with all this ‘meet my girlfriend’ (I wasnt) and “you are more like a guy than a girl” (a polite way to say “control freak” and “not-that-into-me), he said that African girls arent that into flowers.

Now that  called for me to raise my eyebrows, open my mouth wide and go “WTF”.  But see, he doesnt curse, and I dont curse- not in public.

It went like this;

Him: I told grampa you dont really like me (grampa is not biological. He is white- but still grampa for real)

Me: uhh.

Him: and grampa was like; “buy her flowers, she will like you.”  and i thought, no, this is africa (TIA is getting tired people). girls arent that into flowers.

Me: ha-ha-ha. yeah. this is africa.

So any way, we didnt go on any more dates.  we are still friends.

With that kb he reminded me that my ‘real’ boyfriend, the guy had I stopped seeing, didnt look at me as an African girl, didnt buy me roses so i should like him. He looked at me as Phoebe, gave me flowers because he loved me, he pulled my chair, opened the door, not as a rule, not because he had to- but to suprise me sometimes, to make me smile. And then i discovered I missed that.

 Right now:

Some how this was too good to be true. I couldnt have a day this good - to the end.                               Some one has just ruined it (like now).

                                                                    

WIDE EYED GIRL

she told me her life story just yesterday.
Said she is an only child, in a family of six (You go figure).
Says she has never lost her virginity, because she never was a virgin.

And then i wondered; what’s the pain about, that which she constantly speaks of whenever she joins in on a conversation involving the act of sex.

I have watched her. Her whole body shrinks, she as if develops a chill and her voice twitches- whenever it a conversation involving sex and sexual activity.

She told me her secret too.

Said it is no secret anymore since more than me know now. Said i can tell all if i choose to. said she is tired of keeping it, asking people to keep it- she is simply tired of making it “her secret, her dark shameful secret.”

“Why should I feel this pain, why should i put my life on hold.
 He’s isnt. I have no idea whether he spends nights crying his eyes out. whether it all comes back to him, the moment he is touched. Why am I ashamed. why do i take the blame. why should I,” she said, asking more questions than i was ready to answer… not that she needed an answer.

Although, in restrospect, I should have told to chant “It Was Not My Fault, It Was Not My Fault……”

She also told me about the man she loves, the man who loves her and that man, she knows (from deep with in her) that they have no chance.

This confused me a little. she loves him, he loves her; they want to be together… so what is the big deal.

But she wont say. ’says its too complicated.                                  I didnt want to push it. I have learnt not to push her kind.

Her face light up though, when she started to go on about the people at her work place, the boys she plays with, the girls she likes. ” said there is nothing better than being around people you like and respect, and can be able to be silly and serious whenever it’s called for.

Her siblings live far and apart.

Again, she reminds me, she is an only child.

Her mother was her mother, then her grandmother and now her big sister. She is very lucky, she says; “not every one gets to have that many mummys.”

She feels17…                                                                                      

she hopes to change lives when she grows up- her life especially.                                                                                                 

 She prays to leave a mark on the world; “when i die, i would like people to NOTICE that i have passed away,” she says.

She does not know what the future holds. ’cant say whether she will one day get married and have children.  Says that is all up to fate; ” it takes the fun out life, to have your future mapped out,” she tells.

By the time we were done, by the time she was through telling me her life story, I understood her. I even I told her that I ‘get her’.

But i dont, no. I dont think i want to. Although what i know for sure is that i love her and i believe in her, who wouldnt?!.

“…THIS IS A GOOD LIFE TO GET TO LIVE” Drew Barrymore

Prince Charming Vs The Frog

I abstained from blogging about him because; A- I didnt excatly know him and B;  ‘ two people in a space of one month was overwhelming, i couldnt add another.

Yet today, i bring him up, especially for the little I knew of him- his music.

Among many others, Lucky Dube was famous for his song -  Kiss no frog.

It became a “new year’s” resolution for many there  after- to kiss no frogs.

Yet, like many other resolutions made in the emotional heat of the ”new year”, this too goes up with the sparks of the fireworks, only to  explodes in a black out. 

It should be funny that every girl then spends the rest of her life searching for prince charming… a.k.a kissing a whole load of frogs.

This is ofcourse on the assumption that the many a girl will hook her prince charming after years of practical searching - kissing one frog after another, and eventually hoping to make of the frog the charming prince.

I can go on forever with this banter. Making some (younger) girlfriends  give up on the search. Letting them know that the thing whose arms they are entangled into is as good as they will ever get.

I can pass on the knowledge that the shinning armour is only real if these were medieval times.  And the horse, white or brown, just aint practical on these streets.

I could tell them that prince charming is too much of a good thing and as thus – not real.

But i will not. I cannot. Because me Phoebe, I believe in Prince charming.

It is weird, alien actually. For a girl who never stops assuring whoever is soapy and mushy that a heart is but just an organ;  it doesnt talk, has no feelings and does not in any way influence a person’s decisions.

And when you say it is broken, am confused because it isnt until it stops ’pumping’.

 So for a girl like that, to believe in a brown eyed, dark skinned prince charming, it is a very strange thing, even for me.

Problem is though, I am scared… prince charming is too much of a good thing.

I am No Supa Star….I aint Gud Enough

As a mother, I must suck-  just see how long it takes for me to visit (and upgrade) my little angel, Little Jars.  And it is this baby girl that i claim to absolutely adore- now imagine those i just have to contain.

And as a friend I am totally it. I am the company every loner longs for. And just in case you are that loner and would like to know what kind (of friend) i am likely to be; here.  I dont try to get into your space and suffocate you with my friendship. And when you are one for bad habits, i wont even try to talk you out of them- you afterall, should know what you want to make of yourself.

As a girlfriend; oh wait, no one dates me. They all think am that weird girl at the back of the class (highschool) who eats her hair.