And still we Live on.

Big world-Not all of it flowers and Sunshine. Problems are just opportunities that haven’t yet happened. Anger is a spark. Rage is a wild fire-Out of control and therefore useless. Useless is what they thought that piece of land was before i bought it. Years later, they now come to me with offers worth Millions and I smile in their face before I tell them to fuck off. A complete fuck up they said is what Besigye did to the NRM when he first ascended against them in 2001. Many believed him and rallied behind him. Victory was almost in their grip but then came the polls and the results damn near blew the lid off their asses. So from that experience, we learnt to go slow on dark-skinned, overly confident, out-spoken politicians and girls who have big asses. That ass was the talk of town when Desire first gave us a sneak preview of it on social media. Every one with a dick went nuts. The women unleashed a lethal dose of hate on her. Cynicism and pessimism flourished while love and Magnanimity withered and writhed to a painful death in the face of our hot probing eyes. Death was the ultimate destination for the ill prepared. AK left us and my little friend Vienna from my childhood fairies succumbed to Leukemia. For days on end, our tears flowed relentlessly down our faces and dried on our laps leaving telltale marks on our grief etched faces. Amidst our sorrow, we watched the weekly series of the WWE broadcasts and we saw Seth Rowlings come out each time and return still as the WWE Heavy weight Champion. He beat Cena to his ass and the Duddly boys came back to Raw after 10 years of oblivion. The Undertaker failed to pin Brock Lesna with his signature choke-slam and our hearts bled when John Patrick Amama Mbabazi fled the NRM and chose to run for President on the ‘Independent’ ticket. Besigye never gave up, the police did. So we learned that Problems are just opportunities that haven’t yet happened. When the value of the shilling plummeted to a record low against the dollar, the import business came face to face to a life-sized nightmare and the economy slumped on its knees. We saw many businesses close and we heard the cry of employees who were left unemployed as employers struggled to downsize and remain a float. On the other hand, the price of coffee on the world market grew rapidly like pubic on an adolescent’s mons pubis after his first shave. So the opportunity was for us to export more since we couldn’t import that much. The shilling gained weight against the dollar and the economy scuttled to its feet again. While all this happened, the war of words raged between the ruling party and the opposition. The loose-mouthed, bullshit-spitting, low-life, village-boy gone politician who suffers severe illusions of grandeur-Tamale Mirundi got fired and rehired. His rantings were out of control-so were those of my dog Gucci who stayed up all night barking at his own shadow. Paranoia is contagious. I watched my shadow follow me one night as I walked along the northern Bypass and I suffered the inkling that I was being followed by a stalker who was so careful he only treaded in the cover of my silhouette. Could it be that the old man of the state is paranoid too? Is he so terrified of losing his hold of the state that he is willingly letting go of the very same thing that he would gladly suppress and sacrifice life for? Wasn’t Mugisha Muntu enraged that he lost to a three time, full time loser? No, he went nuts but he showed the public a picture of a calm demented man waiting for an opportunity to blow a cap. Besigye still wears that old frog-smile of his. We somehow feel sorry for him. A lot more sorry for the people that have vested their trust in him. He has let them down 3 times and they can’t wait for him to do what he does best again-let them down. We should turn our lights out and stay in the dark for three days…stay there and weep for the fallen stars that once lit our darkened skies and hope that the titans will come to our rescue. We are a dying state. We feed on rumors and we binge on gossip. Hypocrisy is the new swag and corruption is the new creed that our leaders live by. Our land is dry with poverty and reeking with disease and yet we still spend millions of shillings on creating new districts and municipalities. I fear for what tomorrow brings forth to us. We fear our own shadows and we fight our own wives and children on social media and national Television and Tabloids. We are a mess yet we still march at the Kololo memorial grounds and claim to be the pearl of Africa. We are vampires, Zombies, lost to our own existence.