A letter to President Museveni

Dear Uncle M7, it is 9th October, 2012

It is not my birthday, not my parents’ wedding anniversary, yet I beam with lots of Joy.

I have religiously been looking forward to this day since I was born.  It is the 50th Independence anniversary of a great and beautiful Nation- Uganda.

Exactly 50years ago, this humble Nation received the power of self-governance from our colonial masters.

I would like to bring to your attention that today we remember Five decades of great development alongside numerous social ills.

We celebrate eight presidents not forgetting the incumbent (you) being in power for over 25years. If you are a good mathematician you know what I am talking about.

We exalt the Northern by Pass but not without mentioning the numerous potholed roads in Kampala and other roads.

We jubilate national patriotism regardless of whether Uganda ‘Cranes’ loses or fails to qualify for the African Cup of Nations. World Cup will be a matter of the future.

We are happy for UPE (bonna basome) but not forgetting how our children become academic dwarfs from UPE schools.

We appreciate the freedom of expression and free movement, but it remains true that opposition leaders are abstained from this right.

We are happy for the police keeping Law and order but we cannot forget the numerous times Besigye and I have eaten and constantly fed on teargas.

And, oh please! We cannot forget Arinaitwe, the man who broke Besigye’s window with a hummer and sprayed pepper that got the dude (Besigye) almost blind.

But of course we cannot forget Kiprotich and the Gold medal as we celebrate 50years, but we know he may be stale news like Inzikuru so soon.

And we cannot forget that we have never seen Kony but we have heard of him since we were born.

Most importantly we cannot forget that Mzee, you have taken so long in power, I want to see another president.

Lastly, I will be honoured if you hosted me for further discussions.

Caution: I am a child of 1988.

Yours Truly in love with Uganda

Trudy Tumusiime Uwitware.


Why I will never desert my Rosary

My room was warm, so warm but it was late in the night so I opened the windows for a few minutes to let in fresh air and later locked them.

I got into bed; I turned from position to another, on my back, side by side, facing down, until my body got could not do it no more. I got out of bed and back, tried to play with my phone but didn’t find any solace. I as just too restless.

Then I said a short prayer, “God, I sense something is not well somewhere but I lay it all in your hands.”

After restless hours in the bed trying to find sleep, I quietly snoozed into what I can only term as a “near death experience.”

This is not the first of its kind; I have experienced many more as far as my memory is intact.

It is a very weird sensation, when you feel like you are losing your life, trying hard to wake up but in vain. I was in spirit with the room, I kept calling roommate in the dream but I doubt she was even hearing my calls. She was probably not aware of what I was going through.

Last night was too bad, I struggled in the dream I even saw myself under attack I actually called my roommate to pray with me. She then started singing worship songs, but all this was in the dream, in real life she was also asleep.

I saw two black and ugly cats jump into the room, I knew for sure my windows were closed. But true I really knew this was a dream but it felt so real.

Normally, when I get such scary dreams, I pray within, I fight with the blood of Jesus and the sign of the cross most often.

I have realized this makes the battle longer and by the time I am through and woken up, I really feel like I have been fighting.

Similarly, last night I was in battle, a heavy fight with evil trying to rob me of my life, my stronghold was the prayer on my tongue, calling the word Jesus was a struggle; I got tongue tied but never gave up.

The battle lasted for as long as I cannot tell but really seemed long and I finally woke up.

While in the dream, I asked my friend to send me my Bible and rosary, unfortunately, it seemed like I was talking to myself she was asleep.

When I woke up, I was panting, it seemed like I had been fighting in real life and kind of I had ran for miles and miles.  It was past 3am.
I moved my hands very fast to find my bag in the dark, fished in the bag for my Rosary, cuddled it in my hands, onto my chest and then silently kissed the crucifix thanking God that I was alive.

I remembered this is the hour of Divine Mercy and as far as I was taught the hour when the devil and his agents are at work.

I held the crucifix tight and started reciting the sacred beaded ornament. I felt peace coming back to me with every prayer I said, each “Hail Mary” brought relief to my tired self, and I felt sweet and rejuvenated.

As I recited the rosary, I silently and peacefully slept away…

In the morning, I realized how much God loves and cares for me, and I made a resolution to keep my rosary closer to me than ever, because every time I have been attacked, it always redeemed me.

Hail Mary full of Grace, the lord is with you, blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb Jesus. Hail Mary mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen.


Just Beneath Mulago hill…

Kampala stands on seven hills.

One of them is where Uganda’s referral hospital (Mulago Hospital) stands.

we all believe hills are synonymous with beauty, most times including the surrounding areas (at least as far as I can recall for the ones I have known.)

Yes, but there is something rather unusual about this one.  Between Mulago and another slum Kamwokya lies a very small slum, It is not common, you may be hearing it for the first time, even when you know Mulago, am sure only a few of us can locate it.

It has a very complicated name (Butakabukirwa).

I will tell you why I know it. When I was a child, I frequented the place, because I had an uncle who had a small business there. I was shocked just sometime I was passing by with a friend and decided to branch off, he could not believe what he saw.

He told me “Is there a such a place here in Kampala?”

I told him, “You never dare to find out.”

That said, I took a few pics, which I will let tell the story because I have already written a piece somewhere about it but felt I should share this photography with you.

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Somewhere in East Africa

I love you Mother Uganda


Somewhere in East Africa

Sits a small but sweet Nation

Also famously called the ‘Pearl of Africa’

The home of all beauty

The Nation that holds the future of its citizens


Somewhere in East Africa

A child was taught to love and respect her motherland.

The land upon which she was sired and reared

With utmost respect, love and compassion

To honour that land that feeds her


Somewhere in East Africa

Someone loves Black Yellow and Red

Somewhere in the silent East Africa

A person is in love with a Crested Crane

And another in intimacy with green and a Lion


Somewhere in East Africa

A three-bright coloured National flag is raised higher rich to the eyes

A beautifully curved map is at citizen’s fingertips.

The coat of arms is a picture that can be drawn even as they fall asleep

The national anthem melodies are like honey on their lips.


Somewhere in East Africa

A Nation is in jubilation

Somewhere in East Africa

A country is 50 years of Independence

Somewhere in East Africa

There is a Nation called UGANDA


Congratulations Motherland Uganda

With love greeting as you celebrate 50

May God uphold you

I lay my future in you

Somewhere in East Africa