Archive for April, 2009

I was saying….

……..the husband recognizes situation at hand employs all manner of politeness and calm, humbles self, coils his tail says girlfriend was totally in the wrong but she begs for officer’s forgiveness. “At least help me she won’t do it again.”

With all the shares we were flaunting in the officers face the man also knows he is not above the law. He’s gatta coil his tail when its required.

When the officers finally agrees to let us go she turns on us: You two idiots all asking me to say sorry do you know you made the man think I am in the wrong?

Shares dude: do you know they would have thrown you in jail for five days do you know what can happen to you there?

She: who cares? The worst that can happen they would rape me and probably give me Aids. What’s worse than that? Just rape and Aids. And if they do I can sue those motherfuckers. No in fact me and my parents can kill them, we can poison them. No in fact we can poison the man that gave me Aids.

Ahem. Anyway I have always thought that if I am going to be caught on the wrong side of the law I just tell the officer: “Without wasting anymore of your time with excuses and stories i believe you have heard a zenth time, I don’t have a driving permit, I am sorry. I am going to try and get one.
I believe these guys have heard the last lie there is to tell about driving permits how they are at home, how the housegirl washed them in your trousers how your daughter digested them or how your wife took it as ransom, every last lie and I am absolutely sure they definitely know you are lying when you open your mouth and tell that tired lie. So why not quit wasting his time, your time and stop insulting his intelligence, say sorry or pull out your wallet if you are not a woman and pay up.

Sayonara I am off for my leave


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Over the weekend I watched drama live on comedy central I mean first street industrial area. Baz remember there was that old tired lullaby of a night-out-of-town idea called street jam. I even saw you there.

Ok I didn’t.

So anyway a friend of mine drives over to pick her boyfriend (?!) so they could go home and play big people games. The jam is so big like from here to there.l

He calls to find out the exact spot she is parked and she answers the phone goes in those, oh honey yes honey things lovers are possessed with.

From nowhere a police truck with nine policemen pulls over beside her

Police: YOU. Stop. Park your car

She like a woman scorned: What? Where? Who? When? Why? How? What have I done? I swear on my mother’s life I don’t have a phone. What officer I know my rights I swear you cannot scare me see I don’t have a phone I don’t even own a phone. What have I done? I swear to kill my mother I swear I wasn’t talking on the phone

Me in my head: Oh boy here goes. Who asked you about a phone anyway? (meanwhile she is shoving the phone down my legs)

Police: I said pull over you’re blocking traffic let me come there. How can you talk on the phone in the middle of all this jam? Pull over

Me IMH: Now look what you’ve done you sold yourself.

She shouting on top of her voice: Eaeehh excuse me you officer no no no don’t shout at me I am a journalist I know my rights, don’t shout at me. Where when did you see me with a phone I don’t even own a phone. You officer you think I don’t know my rights? Why is that one shouting at me? Now even that one all of you stop shouting at me I am a journalist. Chanel hide that phone in your skirt.

Me IMH: You think these people are damn fools I mean a woman driving a Rav 4 and you think they don’t know you own a phone? Or two phones at that?
And since when were journalists excused from the long arm of the law? Or are they the only ones who have rights the rest of the country don’t know their rights. She works as at teller by the way.

Officer at the window: Madam do you know what you have just done? Can I read you the law you just broke? Where is your phone?

She: Ssebo I went to driving school (liar) I know that law even I even asked my tutor and he taught me. So why is your friend saying I have a phone I don’t own a phone, you people think I don’t know my rights

Officer: Madam why don’t you just admit you are in the wrong and say sorry. Do you know I can book you in and take you to the cell? Where is your permit?

Me IMH: Here goes again she don’t have one and she is acting such a diva if I were this officer I would slap her for trying to make a fool out of herself and me.

She about to pee her pants:
My God, I don’t have a permit I didn’t come with it I stay there in Kololo I just drove here to pick my husband he is there in Silk. He is even called (name drop) and he owns shares in silk. He is even a share holder when he comes you ask him he will tell you.

Me IMH: Ahem I bet by the time these officers go to bed they have heard all sorts of stupid stories from all panicky law breakers. I mean what has shares in silk got to do with my 7a.m to 7a.m job. So when you name drop then what? I mean seriously I know these people get a stupid salary that their bosses spend on just one breakfast. They sleep in houses their bosses dogs would never sleep in and yet when they catch you you want to make them look like the stupidest Ugandans alive. What has Kololo got to do with the situation at hand? The chick sounded like Mwenda at his best.

Officer politely: madam do you know that the IGP is there he could be seeing us. You know you have broken the law do you know I can book you in.

Me to her: Just admit you are in the wrong surely he saw you. Apologise and ask him to let you go

Ok officer I was just beeping here is my phone I just beeped him, but those officers are rude even in my job they teach us our rights (Must have missed the class) ok I am sorry but I wasn’t on phone blah blah blah blah

Meanwhile husband with the shares comes down the road…..(And my boss is standing behind me catch you later)

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Made in Uganda

The end of the road wasn’t coming and I was getting irritated with the rotten surroundings around me. He said that we were going to interview Judith Heard surely she could never put up in such slums? Where would she park her Bentley on top of one of the shacks that pass off as a home?
But Willy Tamale wasn’t relenting he said we were to first stop at some house in the dingiest slums of Makindye to see some boys who make shoes. But we were just continuing deep into the slum jumping over sewerage, women staring, drainage flowing into drinking joint. I was irritated and acting a diva as if…..

Then we finally got there deep in the slum in Nkere Zone. Four Boys, as they like to call themselves were busy cutting shoe shapes out of rubber.

One sat at the sewing machine putting what looked like a piece of cloth on rubber.

Another spread glue on the finished shoe soles while another was making handles out of old belts. When Tamale said we were to visit some boys who make shoes I thought he meant boys who work for a company that make shoes not boys who churn out leaving buy being creative. Judith Heard surely wouldn’t mind waiting a while. I had found a much better interviewee

Here in this slum sat four boys turning rubber, old jackets and bets into wearable open shoes. My excitement genes kicked into full gear and I started asking all sorts of questions I was eager to know how they do it with such meager resources.

If you own a pair of African crafts sandals with the word Uganda on them, Four Boys made those shoes for you.

See it all started in 2006 when the shy Billy Kiyingi quit his job in Nairobi as a shoe craftsman, parked his bags jumped on a bus and came back to Uganda armed with the knowledge and skills of making African sandals.

He was tired of promoted Kenya and wanted to promote his own country hence the word Uganda on every pair of shoes they make.

He says I used to see many Ugandans coming to Kenya to buy those shoes which were sold here expensively. I knew that if I started that business here in Uganda it would make money and reduce on the price of the sandals in Uganda.

When he landed in Uganda Kiyingi got together with Hakim Semperezi, Ddamulira Kawenja and Richard kato and taught them the tricks of the trade. They were school dropouts like him.

They put money together went to Nakasero Market and bought a sewing machine for Shs 400.000 and then rented a small house in Makindye were the rent was affordable.

Everyone was assigned a role in the process of making shoes but they were also required to learn the whole process in case one of them was not around or ill.

They buy most of their material from Nairobi like the hides and skins which they buy for Shs. 2500 per metre. They also get the tough bond glue from Nairobi. Today they make over 20 pair of open shoes in a day.

The boys have also become innovative and craft shoes from old belts and jackets that are a good weekend wear for men. If one didn’t pay much attention one would mistake these shoes as imported from USA, UK or China.

Each pair is different from the next and if someone wanted artistic shoes the boys would gladly get down to crafting a pair.

Semperezi says that they sale their shoes at whole sale price for Shs. 15.000 on market day every Friday at 7th street industrial area.

We would be making a lot of money but Ugandans fear buying Ugandan made products even when they are good. So we make just enough to keep us in business

He says if they got a machine for fine finishing they would make finer looking shoes. For today all the shoes that have the label Uganda on them are made by these boys.

I know you have always been looking for weekend sandals, office sandals for the ladies in high heels, good quality open shoes for your children and simple long lasting shoes to get you around. Why not give four boys a call on 0774308349.

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…..I am not well. AT ALL. Whatelse do I say after that?
That I see you everyday at yours.
And that I miss Antipop
And that Mr Bigg is alive and kicking serious butt and says hi
And that why is everyone not blogging like they used to.
And that at least Tumwi has lived up to it shame on the rest of you. Antipop once in a full moon? SHAME on you.
Where is Ivan is he alive? B2B come on. Carsozy surely really you are the newbie here, blog everyday.
Cheri dont make me come out there and beat you into a pulp.
ERIQUE? Waswara.
Where is everyone else. Whats your excuse? I am off to the doctors.

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…. is naked

I mean the state of Ugandan football is naked. Discuss.


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