I will not ask for rosesI grow those I will not ask for chocolateI am watching my waistline I will not ask for anything redIt may get us beaten I will ask for you, OkelloYou is all I want this 14th You make my heartbeat riseLike the hills of Paidha
Odwar had had a long day at the shamba with the rains that had settled in. It was August. That time when everyone serious was making a final attempt at planting. The last season of the year. He half smiled as he entered his homestead, knowing that his efforts would pay off again this year. …
Dear Lawi-awobe, I know you are not engaged in some cozying up dalliances with Nalweyiso this chill evening. You can not be. You said you are heading out to the village. To Kitgum. To your birthplace. See Hassan the Bodaboda guy says you are in Kyaliwajjala and not Kiti. He said you have not left …
Every neighborhood has that one influential person. Ours is Jedekaya. We call him Jedii, with the double “i” intensely pronounced. I don’t know how the “e” was dropped. Don’t ask me. His friends call him Jed. But if you came to our village on a hot Sunday afternoon looking for Jed, we will point you …
Dear Future Husband, Once upon a time, in Gulu town; long before we became a city, long before our dirt roads got lined with thick layers of tarmac and solar lights lit our nights, before they mended the walls around Pece stadium, renamed, and fenced it off, there was a lela, a type of bicycle, …
Dearest Awobi I have been meaning to tell youNi adegi cuna WhatsAppThis wooing on WhatsApp, I dislikeWoo me properly like our forefathers wooed our mothersFind me at the market squarePretend to forcefully take a handkerchief from meTake my sweater evenGrab my hand or corner me by the roadsideMurmur words that only you and I can …
The Acholi have a saying that only dogs sneak off without saying goodbye. Dano pe lwi, gwok aye lwi. And the Acholi in Mucwini, and anywhere else are special at doing this ciko dano thing. One will never just walk back to their home or wherever they came from without bidding farewell, unless of course, …
SometimesYou and I, OkelloAre like downtown KampalaOn a sunny Saturday3 days to a school term opening Pandemonium! We become a din of madnessOne nice chaos to another bad oneStubbornly unwilling to sail acrossThe hordes of peopleTo the sea of forgiveness Yet We weave our way through somehowPlant our feet firmly on the groundAnd walk through …
They say leave the men aloneKong iywer manokTake a breakKeep your knees togetherCoo abar wicMen come like a gigantic headache, a continuous migraineHe is not different from the othersLaco ni maro mon tutwalHe is a playerHe loves too many womenHe is Casanova all the way through to CasablancaThey’re from the same fabricThe same tailor crafted …
Don’t let anyone lie to you that going down a mountain is fun. Ever. It is a torturous venture. Worse than the hike up. You do it begrudgingly because you have no choice but to go home anyways. Imagine you are already tired from the days of climbing up. You are tired to your rope’s …