Ah! My Ugandan friends, how are you handling the lockdown? Is it even a lockdown anymore? The way Ugandans are so wound up in each other’s lives I’m concerned about mental and physical health but maybe I shouldn’t be. There was this one time I’d taken mom to see the doctor. Nakasero hospital was wild… Continue reading Ugandan Empathy
Coffee and a Watoto cookie – the “Prince of Peace” cantata
It is official, 2020 delivered good, bad and downright ugly packages. However, watching the live Watoto Christmas Cantata (Prince of Peace) under a blanket, sipping on a cup of coffee and on a different continent? Now that was a good! With top notch choreography and stage production attention was centered. While the sound men set… Continue reading Coffee and a Watoto cookie – the “Prince of Peace” cantata
The quiet coder
April 15, 2020 Someone said, “Don’t worry about your quiet friends being lonely, they are probably enjoying themselves.” Quiet people can be mysterious. They absorb information and hoard their thoughts sometimes making the more talkative types uncomfortable. “What are they thinking?” “Are they happy?” “Why didn’t they respond?” Under no pressure to perform quiet people… Continue reading The quiet coder
A battle of place
It is a challenge to live in two cultures. One is often urged to embrace the social and cultural construct of the place they live but the battle to relinquish one's origins, belief systems and way of life is even harder. Can both coexist?
Selling bed sheets on Kampala streets
The young man walks through neighborhoods balancing colorful bed sheets on his head determined to sell these materials for a living. “Bed sheets! Buy some bed sheets!” Human beings like good night sleep and all the other things done between these large pieces of cloth it is a constant human condition, after work there is… Continue reading Selling bed sheets on Kampala streets
Her pages – A poem
Couple by Washington d.c's tidal basin He’d scroll through her pages and pick himself off her articles, her poems, her stories He traced a semblance of who they once were etched in the details and light moments that flattered through the words A distant romance falling lightly in cues sprinkled along the way His signature… Continue reading Her pages – A poem
Just Ride
Ah! Little guy We hustle you and me, me and you Up and down we go Through emotions and hormone tempests we go Now you want dread locks Now caramel hair Now you want earrings Now diamond teeth What?! A necklace? Want to shop with mom in the jewelry section? Find identity within I say,… Continue reading Just Ride
Confession
Today I went to confession. I had been thinking about it for a while, preparing for it, not the sinning but the confession part. During confirmation classes our teacher mentioned confession was a requirement. He also said one couldn’t have the Holy Eucharist unless one had confessed one’s sins. I wanted to have the Holy… Continue reading Confession
“Old fires burn homes down”
What does that even mean? Their reconnection fanned an inferno of emotions. Sensing the heat she tried to back track but each move got her entangled. Twigs and briars- little elements that could light up a fire. Humor, anecdotes, histories shared - music, friends - strings knitted along the way. She caught herself daydreaming, tracing… Continue reading “Old fires burn homes down”
Is the Black Boy Child Prone to Prison in America?
As a mother, I wake with a start. I realize I’m subconsciously praying for my boys. Praying for my boys in hypnopompic – the stage between sleep and wakefulness. Praying. The Black Boy Child (BBC) in America faces a unique set of hurdles – life and the quality of life. He may escape with breath… Continue reading Is the Black Boy Child Prone to Prison in America?
