Category Archives: Seasonal

Christmas: The past and the present

If you look keenly at that corner, you will see Christmas winking at you with a sheepish smile. It’s here, people. The period you have all been waiting for to sing your Happy Birthdays to the greatest man to have ever lived, forget Hercules, or Putin, or Obama. Jesus is the real deal. Anyways, celebrations will later ensue. People will fall in saucepans of soup and jump out. Mayhem. Bliss. Delight. But Christmas celebrations have since changed. Us, old people, used to celebrate it differently, unlike all ye young folks. This is how it went down.

Celebration days

In the past, Christmas started on 1st December. Okay, that’s too far. It started around 18th December towards 20th. The villages held their breath. Drunkards combed the villages looking for tonto. Cannibals hunted to goats’ ass. Everyone in the village was drunk on Christmas Eve. But today, Christmas starts on 25th at 8am and ends at lunch time. No one gives a shit about it anymore. It’s just one of those days where you will go and rest your backside, dodge work and have a whole day by yourself to Tweet and make noise on Facebook.


We used to decorate, yamawe! Villages felt like a certain place in the Bible where Jesus climbed on a young donkey and moved like a boss. That place. Decorations were everywhere, by the roadside, on trees, in the air. In the house, a whole tree was uprooted and planted there as Christmas tree, with its roots and flowery leaves with a scent of Garden of Eden. We didn’t put sweets and candy on the tree. We put guavas and ripe mangoes and cassava. But nowadays? Ah, who still decorates the house? Who has the darned time to pick the littered leaves after Christmas when everyone is nursing a hangover? The house decorates itself.

Christmas carols

We had village choirs who combed the village, door-to-door singing Christmas carols. Boney M? Who is that sausage? Well, Boney M were there, but see, we never had time for cassette and radio and stuff. The village choir was the bomb. It was like Nicki Minaj, man. Like Justin Beiber of those days. You jolted out of sleep upon hearing their dreadful voices, like a song played in the wrong key. They banged drums and sang in local dialect with lamps lighting through palms afraid that a wind might blow it off. But today, Konshens can pass as a Christmas carol. Folks are using Love You Every Day by the other guy as a Christmas carol. Or one of those irritating songs from the villages of Jamaica. Stuff has changed. No one braves the night to comb villages singing himself hoarse. Maybe, if the neighbor has a smoking hot girl, there, there, people can sing.


We loved Christmas because of the new clothes. New shoes. New Kaunda suit. No stockings. New underpants. We started looking forward for Christmas midyear, around May. If you had no new piece of cloth, then, I am sorry, you wouldn’t have celebrated Christmas with us. At least buy new stockings. Now, jazz that shit to today’s world. Damns are expensive to be given. Whether new clothes, old, skimpy, torn or rags, they celebrate Christmas. Look around church on Christmas day, it would seem like a fashion extravaganza. Not new clothes, but a horde of tattered little skimpy, skinny things.

Merry Christmas



A peek into what will be happening at the MPs iPads training.

Trainer: Do you have your iPads with you?

MPs: Yes.

Trainer: Turn them on!

MP for Gulu: How sir?

Trainer: Do you all see the button at the bottom middle?

MP for Gulu: Bottrom middle?

Trainer: Ok, let me come over there and I show you!

MP for Kampala: Naawe. Press this button!

MP for Gulu: Oh. Like that. Ok teacher, I am ready.

Trainer: Now, Slide to Unlock.

MP for Ntungamo: Sride to unrock? Nawe. We know thati ka one. Nitukakyenga!

Trainer: Have you all slid to unlock?

MP for Nebbi: Slid not slided? No wonder people failed English in these S4 results!

Trainer: You will now be on your home screen. Now on your home screen, you have apps!

MP for Busoga region jiggers: Ups? What do you mean ups?

Trainer: Apps for Applications!

MP for Busoga region jiggers: Osaga. What if we want downs? Can’t I have downs? Me I want downs.

Trainer: But? Ok. Who else is on their home screen?

MP for Gulu: Why do they call it the home screen?

Trainer: I don’t know. Ask the people from apple?

MP for Gulu: They are apple people?

MP for Kampala: No, not apple people. The iPad was made by people from Apple.

MP for Gulu: You man, why are you lying me. Apple is a fruit and not a country! You think I don’t know about you people from Kampala.

Trainer: Can we please continue with the training?

MP for Kampala: We are not talking about the apple you find in your fruit salad at Parliament.

Trainer: Apple is a company created by Steve Jobs.

MP for the Jobless: Hahaha. Pun. Did you guys hear that? Steve Jobs created Apple.

MP Youth Fund: Who has the highest score on flappy bird? I just got a new high score. 5.

MP Karamoja Affairs: Can I see? What is this flappy bird?

MP Anti Pornography Bill: Is it naked?

Trainer: My high score on flappy bird is 58.

MP Youth Fund: What? We shall expel you from parliament like the rebel MPs.

MP for Parliament Affairs: Guys. Pay attention otherwise we might not get our allowances today.

Trainer: Ok. So, on the home screen you will find apps. Can anyone tell me some of the apps they have?

MP for Gulu: InstaLimits

MP Youth Fund: Angry Money

MP for Karamoja Affairs: Whatsapp? What is this thing? Me I am fine.

MP for the Jobless: Solitaire

MP for Kampala: Uhm? I don’t see any? My screen has gone black!

MP for Parliament Affairs: Fruit Ninja? Is that the one they use to make our fruit salad?

Trainer: Alright. Any questions?

MP for Ntungamo: Hati, howu do you sride to unrock? What do I press?

Trainer: . . .

Well, that’s how it might go down. We shall surely keep you updated.


Screen Shot 2013-10-31 at 3.03.56 PM

The Acholi finally famous!

It was announced earlier that Uganda would be getting its first ever total lunar eclipse somewhere in Acholi land next month. This news was received with proclamation that 30,000 tourists will come into the country to see the total lunar eclipse. We contacted the Minister for Internal Affairs and asked him a few questions about this total lunar eclipse and his is what he had to say.


We finally famous…we finally famous!

US: So, good news, Uganda getting a total lunar eclipse, what do you have to say about that?

Minister: I am glad you came to me. Finally, I can now add to my C.V that I was the first minister to bring in a total lunar eclipse in all of Uganda. I can now brag to my other ministers. In fact, I just sent a petition to government to increase my salary for bringing in a total lunar eclipse. You see, I went to the NASA and asked them personally if they can bring the lunar eclipse to Uganda and they allowed. This makes me a man of importance in this country.

US: So minister, you’ve still not answered our question?

Minister: You see, when I was in primary school, our teachers used to tell us about these things, and now, I can go and tell my teachers finally that I brought them a total lunar eclipse. I am now cool like that.

US: But aren’t your teachers not teaching any more Minister?

Minister: Well, I will go to the school and ask for them to put a monument of me as the first Ugandan to bring the moon to Uganda.

US: But Minister, we know that the total lunar eclipse is going to be in Pakwach?


Shit, who took the lights out?!

Minister: Eh! You are serious. Let me call the president and tell him that we need a minister for Pakwach Lunar Affairs (PLA) now. You see the government needs to capitalize on such opportunities. We are going to create more jobs for the people in Acholi.

US: What about the 30,000 tourists you said would be coming to see the lunar eclipse?

Minister: 30,000? They first need to ask visa from my office and if they don’t give me my ka-chai, I cannot allow them into my country. Besides, we also have other tourist attractions like Jennifer Musisi’s lawns and trees with tires in them in the city centre. I really like that woman but she’s hard to ku kwana.

US: Jennifer Musisi’s trees with tires?

Minister: Wangi?

US: So, Minister, what about the people of Pakwach, what do you have to say to them about the lunar eclipse?

acholi warrior_2

We really need to stop and ask for directions.

Minister: For a long time when I was studying social studies, I wanted to know why those people were black. I think now that the total lunar eclipse is coming, those questions will be answered. In fact, we have sent a research team from government to buy land where the total lunar eclipse shall fall. Then we shall tell NSSF to buy land there. That land is very important. The country needs to invest in land where the total lunar eclipse has fallen.

US: Thank you minister for your time.

Minister: Ate my ka chai. This interview is not for free.

US: Actually, the people from Pakwach are the Alur.

Minister: Ok bye.

This Is What Will Happen To You At Campus

By The Undisputed Fish Drowner Balamaga Rogers

Campus is opening soon and freshers can’t wait. But with all the inviting anecdotes you’ve heard from friends and older siblings, I understand why you would be excited about joining campus, and contrary to what you may perceive from this, it is not intended to burst anyone’s bubble, but just to affirm expectations.

Hereinunder is a list of 8 things that are going to happen after you’ve started campus. While this may be the best time of your life, depending on how much money your father can afford to spoil you with; on the flip side, the same would-be-beautiful-memories may find their way in the same grave you buried those of that, your high school sweetheart who dumped your sorry behind because you screwed up.


  • You are going to milk as much money as possible from your parents just so you can stay in the same fancy hostel as your friends from affluent families.


  • Your self-worth will then be absurdly tied to how smart the phone your older siblings can buy you in comparison to friends’.


  • The size of your TV screen will invariably determine how many visitors of the opposite sex you’re going to attract to your room which will turn out to be quite a big deal as you’ll find out.


  • The adjective “cool” will be reduced to being used in relation to what ‘happening’ places one knows and their likelihood of stealing their parents’ car on a Friday evening.


  • The use of the acronym “YOLO” aka You Obviously Luck Originality will also be grossly abused to being used in defense of acts of irresponsibility and abject stupidity.


  • You will also realize that idiocy will become a virtue; people will gloat about hangovers in dimwitted Facebook status updates written in a peculiar retard-like language that reads sumthin lyk dis with a YOLO hashtag.


  • Pitiful as it may be, expressing commitment to your intended purpose and stay at the university will attract so much shame and ridicule from the esteemed members of the “cool” social circles, ultimately impairing your social standing. You will accordingly be advised to get a “life”.


  • For those still laded with a capra hymena, chances are that you’ll have that precious cherry you’ve preserved for the last 20 years popped in the icky Casablanca loos by a stranger who will take advantage of your heights.

My only hope, for your own sake, is that you’ll remember to squeeze time in your rather busy schedule to cultivate a few employment worthy skills. Because if your father doesn’t have a slot for you in his company, should you not be lucky enough to know people who matter in the real world; then woe upon your pitiful self.

After you’ve thrown that lavish graduation party and written 13 job applications; you’re going to flop your uncreative tush in your father’s couch and resign yourself to watching Vampire Diaries for another two years.During this time, I guarantee you, your campus memories will be nothing but a poignant reminder of time and money wasted trying to keep up with people you may not even know anymore.

How To Become A Kiprotich

By The Last Airbender Kuzooka Conrad

Good morning class?

*Class stands up!* Good morning Mr. Kanabi!

Now, dear childrens, I want to teach you how to be a Kiprotich.

It has come to our notice that since Uganda celebrated 50 years, we have been able to capture 2 gold medals from the bush war we fought outside countries. This bush war has nothing to do with guns or the Eno Ara Emu but practicing chasing chicken for the visitor who came to your place in the village. Apparently that’s also the origin of Enkoku Nkulu!

Now, if you master how to chase chickens, the government sponsors you and puts you on an aeroplane to go and run alongside other people who have also learned how to chase chickens. Here’s a ten steps runs guide to teach you how to become a Kiprotich.

You don’t need fake gold grills after this!

You don’t need fake gold grills after this!

1. Lie about your age. We all know Kiprotich is not 23, we are not sure if he’s younger than 35 but he claims he’s 23. If you can master lying about you age, then surely you can run 42kms any day, any time. This doesn’t apply to women.

2. Work for Luzira Prisonor any other prison in the country. Do you know of anyone who has escaped from Luzira prison? Do you? No! I don’t think so! Why? Because of Kiprotich. In Luzira prison, if you want to escape, you ask for permission, and they will give it to you on condition you don’t get caught by Kiprotich.

3. Eat ka-little little. Have you heard of the saying carry your own weight? We measured Kiprotich and he’s 35 kilos but again, like he lied about his age, we can’t confirm on this. But if you know how to carry your own weight, then you surely can become a Kiprotich. This again doesn’t apply to Straka and her buddies.

4. Escape from the Kony rebels. Ask Inzikuru, she’ll tell you more on this.

5. Make sure that the UPE school you go to is 42kms away and if you don’t attend it, you get free kiboks everyday. That will teach you how to run!

6. Make sure you are from the cheetah/leopard clan (Ngo) and am not referring to the fumblers from some school with beaten down buildings.

7. Walk to Work. Now, if you used to go for these campaigns and police chased you around with pink water, then you’d have a gold medal or be like Kiprotich. So, for the next one, go and train for that gold medal.

8. Follow closely the above steps I have given you! They are very important.

9. Make sure that when they are giving birth, your wife, girlfriend, side dish, emesse is wearing canvas shoes. This is a secret. I just got it from wikileaks!

10. Go back to the village and look for the night dancer, and ask them to give you their secrets. If you can run faster than or even longer than they can chase you, then you have qualified to become a Kiprotich.

11. The last one is very crucial because this is the key to becoming a Kiprotich. Ensure there’s a toilet at the finishing line. Eat before the race, drink before the race and hold all that in. Now get on your marks, get set, and you will have a gold medal at the end of the race.

Need we say more?

Bunyoro Vs BuBritish: Game On!

By The Ungoddamnstoppable Ronald Mayanja

It is unamazing how historical events unfold… When the British were taking artifacts from Bunyoro kingdom in the 1800’s, it is more than likely that the King might have just let them take them because well, back then they were not artifacts, but just a bunch of expired furniture.

Just for your remembrance, artifacts are pieces of useless stuff saved to look at in the future.

Specimen A: Vintage City Mayor, Erias Lukwago

Specimen A: Vintage City Mayor, Erias Lukwago

The Smithsonian, for example found a 2000-year old Egyptian dog carcass and put it in the museum as an artifact. But as you can already see, that was some worthless piece of dog at the time of its death.

It is said that the University of Oxford is holding some 279 cups, plates and such household stuff taken from Kabalega’s palace during the colonial times. Right now, Bunyoro says they want their stuff back, but Oxford says they have been holding the utensils for centuries and are overwhelmed by the size of shit the kingdom gives after all this time.

Are they going to give it back? Depends. Will goats ever be given the freedom to democratically elect their own leader? Those artifacts will stay where they are. Why?

The pecking order problem

This is one of the most despised, yet most accepted rules of nature. Important people like Peter Griffin are going to find people less worthy than them to kiss their ass, because they clearly can’t do it by themselves. And nature will find a way to provide a person or two for just that.

Ass Kissing

So, a long time ago in Bunyoro, the king and his chiefs were pecked by the commoners that had little or no money, and you see, that was alright…because they’d take their best chicks, and feast on their best ducks and not a word was said. Then the whites showed up. The sobs had to be pecked by the kings, because that is the order, and boy did they get pecked.

Game of thrones

Among the things that the British government confiscated from Kabalega’s palace was his beloved eight-legged throne. Yes, eight-legged throne. And I wish I was shitting you.

It is said that Kabalega’s choice of chair is one that transcends centuries and should be taken seriously. Legend has it that the chair not only worked as the King’s throne but also as a venue for the beating of the royal rats.

We got if from the net

Oxford University claims they bought the chair/bed on ebay. And as their policy of paying cash for all forms of weird looking shit from the 1800’s, they went on to buy it.

“At first we thought it was just a bloody wooden stool that was a cool buy. But we later discovered it was indeed a throne from those of Africa,” a source from Oxford said.

“We ain’t returning it though.”

Who Or What Is An LK For?



Who Or What Is LK 4?

Not who you think. You thought he was just some miscellaneous nigga there who saw the chance at free room and board in a luxury resort in outside countries for three months during which all he had to do was try to copulate with African women and drink heavily? But wait, my friend. There is more to LK4 than his three balls.

He has three testicles?

No, that is just a fancy way of saying somebody is a sports player. We say they have three balls. Lugudde has two testicles and one basketball. Or at least we assume there are two testicles. We DMd Zari to ask but she isn’t responding


ULKampala  @Zarithebosslady Hey Zari, hi. How many testes does LK4 have? #justasking


So what else is there to him, besides the nutsack?

It was revealed just before he left the Big Brother House, that Ivan Lugudde Katwe is actually a royal, a prince.

You mean like Akeem?

Worse, because he is, it is reported, second in line to the throne.

Mbu Second in line to rule? How come Sejusa never warned us about him?

Maybe it’s not the throne of Uganda per se. Maybe he is second in line to the throne of like a part of  Kisaasi.

Are you sure he wasn’t just drunk and talking shit? You know how these bakopi like getting drunk and talking shit.

Possibly. Because he also mentioned that his mum had 17 cars

But she kind of does. I mean if you assume he forgot to mention the words “former” and “Sugar” in that sentence.

What else was he up to in the Big Brother House?

Well, as we saw in the job description, trying to shag Africans from other countries.

Did he manage?

We understand that there was a South African called Cholesterol who was poised to give him some but then they both got evicted.

What? They dare evict the Prince? His Royal Supreme Highness Lugudde Katwe IV?

You’ve got the “highness” part right. I mean, how much do you have to drink to go on tv and tell the whole of Africa that you are the fucking prince of Uganda?




An ATM Withdrawal. Or An Attempt At One

By Tom “Hollywood Heffe” Rwahwire


  • Hello. I’d like to make a withdrawal.
  • Of what you man. Lol.
  •  Of money. What else.
  • Which money. Now see this one.
  • Dude, just spit out the money. ATM doesn’t stand for Attitude Trashtalk Machine.
  • Okay, um… let me check your balance… um… you have exactly… click, click, whirrrrr, click, Uganda Shillings BLEAK on your account.
  • You must be kidding me. It’s only the tenth of the month!
  • And yet, here we are. Broke as Ziggy Dee.
  • Where did all the money go?
  • I don’t know. You are the one who took it.
  •  I swear. Now what am I going to do. Shit. I can’t be broke this early in the month.
  • ATM doesn’t stand for Advice To Man machine, so don’t ask me what you are going to do. You humans spend December as if you are all Zaris and then you come and disturb us in January when you have taken out all the money. I’m empty and I’m tired of humans coming in here and asking me where their money is. You are all broke this month.
  • I swear. Why don’t ATMs give overdrafts?
  • I don’t know. Go in the bank and ask the hot tellers.
  • I can’t. I don’t want them to know I am broke. I have been hitting on them.
  • All of them?
  • That’s the kind of guy I am. Playa’s gon play. You know wharramsayin?
  • You are the kind of guy who ends up broke by the tenth of January. You need to stop overchasing birds. Now what happens when you catch one? Imagine if you needed money to buy pampers or to pay school fees. What would your broke ass do?
  • Maybe I should get a sugar mummy.
  • Too late. The cut-off age is 26. You are 32.
  • So now what do I do?
  • Find the one where it stands for Advice To Me and ask it. Me if you want to know how much I care, look at your balance. That’s the figure. In fact, I was sleeping and you disturbed me.

Moral of the story: Get a sugar mummy before it is too late.


Eating Christmas In Uganda: A Blast From The Past

Is this what Christmas has come to? Meaningless promotions and lousy decorations? If you remembered the real Christmas from way back, you’d understand why Museveni insists he’s still a teenager. Anyone would want to stay stuck in the past.



It’s upsetting how kids these days parade Coke & Pepsi so casually like bad breath. Back then, if you saw a crate of soda being transported on a bike, you didn’t need to look at a calendar to know it was Christmas. Drinking soda was done as a celebration of big events. Now people drink sodas to celebrate opening the soda bottle.


Where’s the good old cotton wool and toilet paper? Almost all households spent the first ten days of December falling sick so they could visit hospitals and secure some cotton snowflakes.

Others feigned food poisoning and diarrhoea outbreaks to buy different shades of toilet paper without being judged because money wasn’t wasted on wreaths and ribbons. Toilet paper was Christmas paper.

And since when do people buy Christmas trees? In the spirit of giving and receiving, we stole Christmas trees from neighbours’ compounds. No, it wasn’t theft. It was the improved spirit of sharing. Only without involving the giver because we thought they had better things to do than be present during their display of generosity.


Those who frowned upon the improved spirit of sharing resorted to combing their neighbourhoods for people who had Christmas trees for fences, and sending them subtle friend requests through the occasional I-just-dropped-by-to-say-hello and food gifts. Then they pounced around December 21st and feigned ignorance with “Wamma I heard you have Christmas trees?”


Some things were written in stone. Like I didn’t know Christmas carols were songs sang for Christmas. I thought it was a term used to mean songs sang by Boney M or Philly Lutaaya. And I liked it that way. Now over six hundred musicians can claim they sang ‘Jingle Bells’ and all of them will win the case.


Herein lies one of the few surviving traditions. You had to eat a piece of everything that was cooked on Christmas day. And we cooked almost everything in the house; goats, chickens, cows, rice, sofas, carpets, brooms…everything. Then you showed your appreciation by belching. From both sides.



We spent the last hours of Christmas day walking aimlessly around town mostly because we wanted our new Christmas clothes to be seen. Then we entered discotheques and danced off the food with 30-minute Lingala songs. At the end of the song, you were hungry again and you went back to eat some more. Now all you hear in club is Chris Brown telling you to climb from wall to wall. Dude, I’ve just eaten everything in the house. How am I supposed to climb walls?

Shame on Christmas today.


UG@50; A page from the book of 2062

It is the year 2062, my name is UGcitizen 4599. And this is my story.

I am a character in a graphic novel, living in the dark sprawling metropolis called Kampala, capital city and crime centre of the Central and East African Republic. I wear a huge hoodie that (hopefully) makes me look like a giant cobra when seen from the right angel at the right distance in the factory smog after a power-cut. Apart from the hoodie I have lots of tattoos and know Muay Thai.

And I talk to the rain.

Life in Kampala in 2062 is hard. Harder than Mogadishu in the 00s. Times in the Uganda Province have always been hard, but not as hard as they have been since the ill fated morning of October 9th 2012, when the Great Mama Finna’s curse on the NRM government came to pass and the whole country suffered a power and media blackout. In 50 years, Uganda has not known flat irons, chargers, Playstations, smartphones, Facebook, Twitter and worst of has had no
Standing at the site of the former City Square, I look up at the towering statue that Mama Fina forced thousands of Ugandans to build with their bare hands as penance for daring to look at her naked pictures in a local tabloid.

Standing under the massive thighs and breasts looking up at her grim and foreboding face while the lightning flashes and the angry hail rips and slashes, I find myself feeling vague stirrings of lust.

I refuse to be ashamed.

Striding through the pages of this graphic novel into the Kololo-Nakasero Slum District, I see two small cold eyed children holding old fashioned sawed off shotguns and wearing the insignia of her Imperial Blackness, the ruling Matriarch of Kampala, Shanita Namuyimba.

Closely after the country was plunged into darkness in 2012, Shanita broke out of Luzira Maximum Prison and together with the most dangerous inmates she could gather, started a new government under an Anti-Coherency, Pro-Ratchedness philosophy of governance called Badiocracy.

The Toto BlackGuards see me and see nothing but a face in the crowd, a nobody. They do not know that beneath this hoodie is one of the faces they have been ordered to hunt down.

In February 2013, a secret meeting was held in a barber’s kiosk on a small muddy path in the area that was then called Kamwokya (you may now know it as Area K23). It was a meeting between the two powers that really ruled the City in those days.

The first was the Ghetto President; His Excellency Bobi Wine, the Troubadour of the People.

The Second was the Executive Director of Kampala; Her Ladyship Jeniffer Musisi, the Ruthless Agent of Progress.

Together they buried their differences and forged a coalition against the spreading evil of Badism. Together they formed…


It is 2062, 100 years after Independence and this Graphic Novel might even have a happy ending.

Only 2112 will tell.