#nokialumia-my love rival

Never in my life had I harbored the thought that such a small gadget would become my big-time love rival and hammer the last nail into the coffin of my relationship.
I fondly recall the days when the Ex was the proud owner of a small red battered Siemens phone that had obviously seen better days. Those were good days with good conversation over Saturday nights out and Sunday lunch. But when he started using rubber bands to keep its back and stomach together, I suggested he get a new one.
Little did I know that I was putting the first shovel into the relationship’s grave. He got a new shiny black Alcatel. It had a nice radio, didn't lose network and it gave him some kind of status. Two months later, he had spotted a new model and also purchased that one.
Soon he was walking with a swagger and no longer talked or listened much. Whenever I started a conversation he would put his pointer finger up and say “Sshhhh! let me finish listening to this.”
That phone quickly got a successor, then another and another other. The old models were buried in his boxers’ drawer.
The lid of the relationship’s coffin creaked open when the Nokia Lumia came on board. Nokia Lumia soon became Nokia Lumia with the Ex waxing lyrical over Nokia Lumia which was now clearly the new girlfriend that never left his side.
Nokia Lumia slept in the Ex’s bed, Nokia Lumia had new clothes (casing) every month, Nokia Lumia was wiped down every 10 or so minutes. I suspect Nokia Lumia was also coaxed to eat sometimes but she was on a diet.
The list of things Nokia Lumia could do- Youtube, podcasts, photos, recording, radio. To make matters worse, by this time, the internet was upon us. Facebook, Twitter, WhatsApp, Instagram and whatever else the bad world wide web has to offer.
I was mired in serious competition.
Sadly, the phone had kicked our relationship six feet under. 

#roadcrossinggonebad

You know how when people feel important in their jobs…

As I returned to work after lunch, two traffic police officers walking in my direction suddenly decided it was time for them to cross the road in the middle of fast-moving traffic. This was right outside parliament, near the National Theatre.
I don’t know what gave them the confidence, probably the “don’t you know who I am??” syndrome that comes with the white uniform.
Anyway, the next thing was a loud screeching of tires and one of the officers dashing across the rest of the road like something was after him. The taxi came to a halt right next to his female colleague. Then the drama began. “Gwe! Ovuga otya? Olowooza lino kkubo lya muzeeyi wo!!?? Eh?”
She was wearing this mean macho face with her head tilted to one side and one arm akimbo, chest forward.
The driver looked like he wanted the earth to open its mouth and swallow him.
“Eno Kampala, si Kalangala!” Then she gave taxi a hot slap and executed an even hotter kick on the tires.
“Gweeeeee! Nja kusiba!!! she threatened before she moved out of the way and joined the “coward” on the other side.

#sheepandshepherd

After tossing and turning through a recurring dream of Cranes players unable to afford soda for their victory party, I woke up early and went to church for the morning service. The clergy were late but the pianist kept us entertained. The start was hurried and we eventually got to the sermon.

To be honest, I was sleepy and in my distraction, my eyes landed upon one of the priests sitting in the altar area, partly obscured from the congregation’s view. His sitting posture made me look closer and just to be sure, I even put my specs on.

The priest was on his phone, tapping away, with an amused expression on his face. I kept glancing in his direction and at one point, I saw him look up suddenly, like someone who has been caught red-handed. Then he went back to whatever it was- whatsapp probably.

So here we were, two distracted creatures in church- one the shepherd, the other the sheep.

#TaxiDont's

too tall...

This has been my taxi scrutiny week. You meet all sorts of interesting characters (ok, some are not) in these our 14-seater passenger taxis. Like the slightly-drunk middle-aged man who imagined he could chat up his co-passenger. She was clearly bored. Lucy Parwot also had her fair share, with girls munching on bananas and boiled eggs. So, I came up with my list of DON’TS when individuals are using these our taxis. I’ll keep it sane...

DO NOT dose off and allow yourself to dribble.

DO NOT sleep so hard that your head lands on your co-passenger’s shoulder.

DO NOT sleep and talk. You could say some pretty embarrassing things.

DO NOT- actually, NEVER- eat the following foods in taxis. Overripe ffene, boiled eggs, bogoya or nsenene mixed with raw onions. Groundnuts and pineapples can pass. But…

DO NOT sing loudly when you have earphones on. DO NOT sing loudly when you have earphones on. DO not SING LOUDLY when you have earphones on!!

DO NOT have loud conversations on your phone, or get overly excited or agitated when talking to someone other passengers in the taxi can’t hear. FYI, overhead cellphone conversations are annoying. And DO NOT lie about your locations. Mbu “Ndi Masaka” when you are in Kasangati and the conductor is outside calling “Kampala! Kampala!”

DO NOT play your phone radio bila earphones. Its very irritating when your Super FM is competing with the taxi’s CBS FM which the driver has turned on so loud, he can’t hear when you shout “mu maaso awo!”

DO NOT take up half the seat. Learn how to sit with other people. These seats are for three people only. (ok, the conductors sometimes squeeze four on, and then stand over you and panic when they see a traffic policeman)

DO NOT try to strike up conversations with strangers. If you’re really itching to say something, let it be short small talk, and for God’s sake, let sense come outta ya mouth. Not everybody likes to share sensitive info about husbands who have abandoned the home. And how Besigye should abandon his “defiancy” campaign.

DO NOT fling open the window on a cold morning or chilly night. Or when I’m sitting next to you and and I have spent hours arranging my hair.

DO NOT (oh!oh!oh!) -if you are seated in the back seat- attempt to strike up and sustain a conversation with someone sitting at the front with the driver. Especially if you are going on a long journey.

DO NOT imagine you will enter the taxi with five kids and want to pay for only one seat. Uh-uh. I understand travel is costly, but ask me kindly and I will let one sit on my lap. Just DO NOT force them into that little space where four legs are supposed to sit.

DO NOT- when you sitting behind someone, and suddenly feel sleepy- use the headrest of the person in front of you. Be considerate. Lean back and use yours.

Please TRY NOT to step on other people’s feet or clean shoes as you struggle to go past them.

DO NOT keep mum when the driver is speeding and overtaking like a madman. Especially in a black spot. Some people attack the one brave passenger who has the “guts” to remind the driver that they still value their lives and do not want to become statistics- mbu “four people have been killed in a taxi accident.”

DO NOT open your mouth when you are drunk. This taxi is not a bar where all the waitresses have become your girlfriends.

DO NOT haggle with the conductor when you are already halfway the journey, or when you say “mu maaso awo!” Bargain before you get on so you don't waste other passengers' valuable time.

DO NOT gossip loudly about someone else because your “badness” will be on display, however smartly-dressed you are. TRY NOT burst into loud insane laughter. Other people do not see the fun like you.

And for heaven’s sake, DO NOT imagine you are the taxi driver and tell him how to drive and which shortcuts to take.