Tastes and Preferences

I am pretty sure that someone has at least thrown a comment at you regarding how disinterested you are in a particular subject. Sure of course, we are all allowed our own tastes and preferences. If you studied economics it is one of the main if not commonest points in every single thing…demand, supply and blah, blah, blah…

Anyway, hello world, forgive my poor manners.

So this time round my rant if not thought goes to the people who believe that we are meant love the things that they love. Come on, people! I am not you. I am me. That means that even you who is reading this is the only version of yourself out there. You can look over the six billion people out there in the world and still find only one you. In short, what you hate, what you like and what you tolerate is unique to you.

And yes, kind sirs and madams, there might be someone who has similar tastes and preferences, but the similarity is actually a difference. Personally, I love Lord of the Rings, Game of Thrones and the likes. Why? Because I love swords, knights, armour and stuff to do with the Middle Ages. I am what you’d call a geek…seeing as I have read the books too.

Anyhow, some other person out there might also like these mentioned movies and series, but their reasons could have more to do with plot, relationships etc. To me those things are secondary and to them they are primary. That is just how it is. So you see…similar but different. We might all be from a singular tree, but every branch is bloody different people.

This brings me to the bigger point. Our dear parents and relatives. “Abana ba naku zi’no…tebafayo” Forgive my Luganda (my native language…kindly look it up) This statement translates into ‘kids of these days, don’t give a damn.’

If I am to be honest, why should I care for things that I have no interest in. It is not my place to do so. I mean, you cultivated your tastes long before you thought of me. And now that I am cultivating my own, you have a problem with it. If you wanted me to have some sort of interest in your shit and all, kindly you should have introduced me to it long before it would not really matter to me.

Besides, it is not that we do not care about the things dear to your hearts. Honestly we do, but not as much as we care for the things closest to our hearts. You're our family and we will always care for what is important to you, but never to the extent that what is important to us(me) becomes secondary in our lives.

So kindly do not blame me for being me with my own tastes and preferences. If you want me to love your things more than I do, you missed the boat.

PS: If you are reading this and your kid or whoever you want to care is not yet beyond the tender age of ten, you still have a chance. Run...run...and do the right thing yoooohhhhhh

Until then, I remain…the dream chasing nerd…  

Old Wishes

Hello world,

Has any of you ever wondered what it was like in the 60's, 70's and early 80's? I mean that as a question to yougsters like myself who like to call ourselves the 90's kids. I mean there is a lot of different shit that has gone on since the turn of the century, but I think my rant goes back all the way to weddings.
And by weddings I do not mean all world weddings. I mean weddings from Africa, Uganda to be exact, my friends.
I recently scrolled through my parents wedding albums, and I do not mean those fancy ten year or twenty year anniversary ceremonies. I mean that first step of the marriage cycle. I am talking about that time when they were as young as I am right now and not having work stress, or pains of the world on their shoulders. My God those pictures made for an interesting view.
My now bald father had an afro, and my mum who prefers braids had really long hair. They looked happy and simple in the coolest way. Old man wore a nice three piece, mum a simple knee length white dress with a few daisies in her hand. And the biggest thing that comes to mind is the fact that they were so content. Content, because they had a few close friends around them, my uncles, two of them, were chief on my old man's side and the ladies are old and grey with grandkids now...(waiting for my own kids in a few years to call them jaja)
This got me thinking. If I was to grade my old people's wedding in terms of finances, their wedding could be little over 500 USD right now. That translates into 1.5 Million shillings. Mind you that is me being extravagant because they are my parents.
Their wedding is a clear and marked distinction from the wedding my elder brother had recently. I am taking nothing away from my brother, because I do love him, but my God. We wore designer suits, paid a fancy hotel, rode in Range Rovers and even more interestingly, we had a blast listening to a band. All this was after some interesting priest put his seal of approval on my brother and sister in law.
Personally, I do not want a big lavish wedding. I mean why would I? The parents have had my brother to experiment on, thank God. But this is Africa and the wedding these days has never been about the wedded couple. It is about the parents of the couple.
At some point one wonders why pernts force their kids to get married with pomp and grandeur instead of allowing them to do what they did in their hey day? I mean is it so hard to get your son and his bride or your daughter and her groom to enjoy a simple wedding with the intention of a lavish ten year ceremony. In fact, I think this is one of the main reasons that divorce is slowly creeping back up in many nations.
Before, the wedding was small. The couple was a team with a direction. You would respect one another because you are there for one another in the lowest moments of life. Couples believed in one another and married for love, friendship and companionship. That is reason why many of the 80's, 70's and 60's couples are somehow still together. But if you look at the recent couples who have allowed the forces other than themselves to get married, you will see a difference.
People marriage is not about how expensive the tux was. It is not about the designer wedding gown. And it is not about having 1000 guests at your celebration. It is a ceremony where a man picks one gem from a cave full gems to be his one and only gem. From there, he can work at making life wonderful for the gem and vice versa.
So our parents and your old wishes remember how you got married and do not shove your dream wedding down our throats.
But if you want a big wedding, please go ahead as long as it is not mum or dad who wants it.

Until next time, I remain the dream chasing...that one...dream chasing...

The Sins of your Fear

Hello world,

Thank you for spending some time with me. Thank you for looking into my mind as I rumble on like a fool. In other news, someone got me thinking about the past and what it brings out in people. For one, it makes me very angry at times. It makes me sad, It makes me feel useless and small. But it also makes me feel like I am slowly evolving because I no longer go into depression mode.

One of the hardest things to do in this world is to recover from the unexpected things that life does to you. It is very hard to let go of the past. It is even harder to avoid looking at it in some way or another. As one of those people who tend to have long tempers and can hold out for too long, I know just how it feels for things not to make sense at a particular time. I know how it feels to fill your head and thoughts with all the wrongs you have allowed to be done to you.

But I am a firm believer that the past is not such a bad thing. Actually, the past and all crimes of this world that are done to you are part of life. They should be lessons, yes, but not bloody prisons. They should not hold you back as if you are some sort of criminal in the thralls of the justice system. The truth of the matter is that you have control over the things that happen to you and are committed to memory.

It takes time to learn the bloody lessons. It takes time to understand that maybe, you did not deserve all that was done to you, but you needed for it to be done to you, to become a stronger and better person. This assuming that there are no bots busy scrolling through my little blog.

Anyway, life always throws us lemons. It will throw you the failed interview, the F9 in some damn paper, the cheating girl or boy, the hovering sucker who wants in on your girl or boy, death, sickness, poverty and in some cases betrayal. But as life throws you all these things it gives you a chance to learn.

Take the failed interview…you’ll probably learn what kind of works and what does not as you do loads of interviews. I know I have, and in the end you become better at presenting yourself to that bloody panel. The F9 will probably haunt you as you read. But it will make you read harder and at some point you will pass the damn papers. You see F9s have a funny way of making you feel stupid and damn, when in actual sense you are wise and amazing. Truth is that no one is stupid we just have different academic talents.

I could go on and on about the endings of beauty and brilliance that we can pick out of everything, but that is not my place. It is your place as a human being to see that your past, good, bad, sins, miracles and blessings are things that teach ‘the you’ of today that you’re better than anything.

I am speaking from experience mind you. I am slowly becoming better at it. I have taken every lesson, well not every lesson, but what I can and become a lot better at being me.

Until the next time we meet, my friends, I remain the dream chaser.

Je suis

Hello world.

What kind of world are we living in? I mean I have talked about it before, the whole racism issue, but it seems I have to once again address it. Why? You might think retreating back to an old subject is more or less dull and boring, but infringing on the rights of others due to their skin colour is not as boring as it may at first appear.  And just so you know, I am not actually taking one side or the next in the name of this racism row. It has nothing to do with the white man on black man or vice versa usual nonsense, mine is going up against my brother in Southern Africa, the “Rainbow” nation as they often like to call themselves

Before I get into them, let me start off by putting my hat off to Charlie Hebdo. Well done my friends of French satire. Death is an intriguing subject. But even family reunions of Africans under the sea as they try to find a better life is more fun to see. I mean maybe, I should get someone to do an Al Pacino caricature of your offices. Let us not forget that you were the victims of a hate attack and there you were on your high horses believing you are heads and shoulders above the rest.

Je suis Charlie…forgive my French your arrogant prissy mad men that make fun of death and the fact that African perished in the seas as they tried to come and enjoy the things you ever so gladly flaunt in our faces as awesome beyond awesome.

Away from that…my brothers in South Africa, brothers and sisters, who knows, I mean really. What are you thinking? Just because some man says all these people must go does not mean that you pick up cardboards and clubs to force him out. That is mistaking some important person’s statements to fuel your own personal drive and anger. What cause do you have to beat up fellow Africans? What right do you have to force us out of your country?

None…I tell you none.

It is your home. They are your jobs and best case scenario you must fill those vacancies. But let us be honest. Your youth sit on their arses many a day waiting for the next lucky break instead of working towards it (and honestly that is a problem on the entire continent); you’re more interested in placing the “bazungu” at another level. I thought they too were foreigners, but we did not see any of them getting caned or kicked on the head.

Then again, you are the most forgetful nation in this world. When the yoke of apartheid filled your nation, who cried with you? When the white men you still pay too much respect if you ask me, beat the shit out of you, who took you in and cleaned your wounds? It was Africa. It was all of us that you want out of your country.

Xenophobia looks good for you now that you think we want your nation. No. We have our own motherlands. We just want to explore and since South Africa is part of this continent why not start from there? Why go to places like Europe where we shall be Charlie Hebdo’d for trying to explore, albeit illegally…but oh well, what can I say but job well done. You have made many fellow Africans weary of your hospitality.

By the time comments like, “we should kill those sobs too,” came out…you know what I mean.

But unlike you South Africa we shall kill others because of race. We are one world, with one love and so many colours; even the South African colour of violence and hatred.

Until next time, Je suis Charlie and South Africa,

I remain your dream chasing nerd…

The Big Yellow Man

Honestly this has gone on for too long. There is one yellow stupid network in Uganda, and by yellow I do not mean the colour of the ruling government here in Uganda, at least they are not stupid. I am talking about MTN…the assholes who think they own Uganda. I have noticed that over the past two months, there never goes a week where they are not having some shit problem. This network in my opinion has become too big for its own good here in Uganda.

Network failure after network failure. I live in Entebbe at the moment, but really, what the fucking hell. Entebbe is just a stone’s throw away from Kampala, so the network should be clear. The words “Out of Service Area” should not exist. But they do. With MTN, every single bad thing exists. Trust me if I had a chance, I would give them back their taxes and throw them out of Uganda for good, the bloody idiots.

First off let me relate them to that once attractive young man that is now a balding, fat bellied man closing in on his fifties. I mean any one here in Uganda, and Africa to be exact (well let me not say Africa, it could just be Uganda) knows that MTN is more interested in the money now than actually caring for its customers.

Where does the comparison come in?

Well the fat old man was once attractive; tall, lean and always smiling. He was eager to please his partner. He was always looking for a way to ensure that she was happy. He bought her flowers. He took her to simple nice dates. He spent all he could, interested only in giving her heaven on earth. As he stayed with her and got a better job and was able to give her the finer things in life, he let himself go. He became arrogant, full of money and unfit. He for lack of a better word becomes a certified grade A asshole.

For so many times his partner is interested in throwing in the towel, but the memories and those few good things that actually come from Mr. Asshole. But at the back of her mind, she knows that all it will take is one final straw, and when it comes, the partner is never happier than before. She takes it and runs leaving the fool to enjoy his money while losing a lot of other things.

That is MTN Uganda today. They might say I am defaming them. But I can tell you that everyone and I mean every single one of their users has the damn line for mobile money. But I know more than ten people whose phones either got stolen or spoilt that gladly went to other networks such as Airtel, Vodafone, UTL and even the much maligned Africell.

Why?

These networks unlike the big yellow machine, are happy to please the customer who in this case is the wife or partner. What MTN does not realise by becoming the worst network in Uganda is that it gives more people reason to throw away their numbers. I mean it is so easy for me to throw away my MTN line and get another line. After all, the numbers are saved on my phone and people will get used to the new numbers.

They better style up and I hope they read this, the fucking leeches, good for nothing scam.

Until next time, I remain the dream chasing nerd who hates MTN with a white hot passion.

PS: I have nothing against the people who work for them.

The Meaning of Love

Long live the heart, long live the soul that knows what it wants. That piece you can't find, that part is a whole and it never lets go. Those lyrics are from Needtobreaths's awesome song The Heart. I might be a little late on this boat, but the song is damn amazing. This song has awesome meaning to it. And if you are soe one who has the creeping fear of being stabbed and abused by numerous people out there, it helps build your fortitude. 

At some point in life you realise that you have to let it all out though. Personal experience has taught me that the one thing that will happen to you in this world is to be stabbed in the back. being abandoned by people is part of life. Afterall, we enter this world alone and we leave it alone. But there is ajourney and we all need help when it comes to this journey called life. That is why we tend to open ourselves up to others.

When you give your heart out to people, you often give a piece of yourself to them. Be it a lover, friend, ally, acquintance, brother or sister, there is is a piece of you you're giving away. When people turn round and stab you in the back, it is easy to find yurself feeling a longing ache deep down. Some of us recover, but in the recovery, you come back more as a dead person. You see for every hurt, you become stronger, but you also die a little more.

People do not see it. Most times, even you do not see it. You feel it in the pit of your chest and just think, it is the bloody pain of that moment. You tend to go into the 'Fuck It' phase of life. But when you come out of it, you are different. Most people do not realise that you are different. You see things in different lights. Your smile does not touch your eyes as much as it used to. Worst of all, some walls start to hold you back even when you want to go out.

This is all mindless chatter if you're readng, but anyway, what is love, if it leads us down this particular road? What is the true meaning of love, if the whole journey is wrought with pain and longing?

What is love?

I cannot answer that question for you. The shrink is the last person to also answer that question for you. In truth no one can answer that question because love is everywhere. Everyone is capable of love. Even your worst enemy is capable of love. Love is not easy. Love is fights, love is tears, love is smiles, love is frowns, love above everything else, love is hope.

It is hope that you will find someone out there who will accept your soul as it is. You will find that love is something that gets you to think of more than just yourself. It will eat away the selfishness. Your sadness will matter little. Your happiness will no longer come from just you. Your tears will be shed over something out of your control. Love is what makes you see beyond the walls you find yourself caged in. That is what I have learnt.

Even when you are hurting because of love, it will still hold you close. When you find that the through your tears, the love still burns, then you have your answer. You will have your winter in the scorching deserts, your spring of life when everything else is gone. 

And to people that say that love has no jealousy...really, if you have love and never get jealous, you're in for trouble because that means you have yet to find it. 

Until the next time, your dream chasing young man awaits your eyes.

The Shout for Seperation

Yesterday they voted. Today they decided. I woke up today with a slight feeling of trepidation that United Kingdom will not be United Kingdom anymore. It is safe to say I was wrong. I was worried that the first minister, Alex Salmond had done the unthinkable, caused a separation of the old, tried and tested sense of family. But I am glad I was wrong. I am among those people (banks, politicians, international business and the 'silent majority') that are beyond glad that this debacle is behind us. (For now, I know that this is far from over)

You might be wondering what an African, one in a dusty city such as Kampala is doing thinking about an election that happened all the way across two continents and a sea. But let me tell you I have always had a keen eye for certain things. Some people call me a bloody observant and ugly little shit for knowing certain things. Mind you, I am the first to admit when I do not know something (as long as it is not frightening).

Anyhow, back to the matter at hand, Scotland voting. I am glad they vted no. Not because it affects me, but because like Gordon Brown said, there is no turning back. You see the United Kingdom is like a house full of kids. You have England, the snobbish over-the-top and over bearing eldest sibling that wants everything nice and clean. Then you have Wales, the second born child that is slightly envious of child one and eager to show him up in whatever event. And of course there is Scotland, the rebel in the group. he wants things his way and hungers for all the attention in the world. The last child is the silent child, the youngest darling of the lot, who is treasured but not treasured, Northern Ireland.

You see the beauty about family in all cases, is that family will annoy you, pester you, freak you out and at one point or another remove those walls of self righteousness that you have erected (Hello England before yesterday's vote) Family has the ability to arouse your deepest passions and desires to the world (cue in the Scots) In some instances, family has a way of shutting you up and drowning your voice among the gnarling crowd of demands (Raise your hand little child, Northern Ireland) and in some cases, usually the most, family has the ability to force you into fierce competition (Wales, always out for English blood)

But one thing remains, family bonds despite all the hardships and bad news, is unbreakable. Even when you are at odds and vow never to talk to one another, you will sit down on the table and talk like a bunch of uncaring fools.