The Man with whom i share my Bed(3)

Today we step out – Family planning.

He got the things from me and placed them wherever they needed to be. He handed me the ice cream and turned on the TV so we could get started. I sat down my legs raised into the sofa and begun to dig into my icecream as he connected the DVD player to the TV. He joined me and I offered him a spoon. We watched “Woman thou at loosed”. I love movies. i pay attention to everything from cast to music to the costumes to criticising the plot. At some point my eyes were filling up with water from the emotions awakened by the movie. When it was done he went off to the bedroom to catch some soccer as i continued with the movies. I watched gifted and when it was half time of the match, he came by, warmed and served lunch. I paused the movie and followed him to the bedroom to give him company as he watched the game. (i know eating in the bedroom is bad). I kept scrolling through my phone once in a while and when i was done taking the plates to the kitchen. i cleaned up and took a nap. He stayed trying to work on something on his laptop in the living room. Before i knew it was night. Thank God he purchased enough movies. So while he slept off i made myself busy.

Morning was here and we all got dressed to head to the clinic. We drove singing to Eric Wainana(yes, he took time to appreciate the music I like). At the Clinic we met a male attendant who took us through the family planning methods and when we were done, we agreed i would use the IUD. We had it inserted before we left. Then we headed out to the mall. We picked up a few groceries. Next week, honeymoon would be done so we needed to stock up some things. At the mall, he pushed the cart around and carried the bags to the car (isn’t he a gentle man!). We had lunch at the food court at the mall before we went back home.

All I can say the first year of our marriage was bliss. It was like we were in the movies. Like fine wine. A few misunderstandings but most of it, we laughed and enjoyed each other. I didn’t scream about the sex no more, i learnt to walk about naked, the IUD was Taken out and was taken on a second honeymoon on our wedding anniversary and it was time to add another member to our huge house.

I conceived and when I was sure i was positive and was ready to share the news, i came up with a dinner plan and that’s the night my fairytale ended…My phone rang before i could hatch the plan and bake it and the voice at the other end was of a woman. “i am looking for my husband?” Wrong number i said and hang up. She called back. i picked again. “Madam, aren’t you called Tracy Sendagire?” i agreed.’Is their a problem?’ “It depends on what you call a problem, well, i am looking for Mr Sendagire, your husband. I can’t reach him but please tell him, his son is very ill so he should call me back.” She hung up and hang me……

The Man with Whom i Share my Bed (2)

How do you want to be loved Today?

He said as he looked through the drawers for where i relocated his underwears. “they are on the upper side on your left”. I said as i slipped on my pair of black jeans. “How do you want to be loved today?” he asked again and i wasnt sure what he meant. ‘Well, i could use a movie, icecream and some good food’. I said. “very well then, since we are keeping indoors today again, i will order all of that in.” i didn argue. Either way, we didnt have any food in the house. But then, he added “Why are you over dressed?” Well, i thought today we would step out. ” no my love, he said drawing close. Maybe tomorrow.

I took off my jeans and pulled out a kanga. Either way i love to wear these wraps when am home. Clothes feel too hot. Only that this time round its a new home and just two people occupying it. I knew i had to losen up with time because am going to live like this forever. He went to the living room and i over heard him ask the Boda guy to pick up some movies and food and the icecream. (somehow i found myself following him around the house). We sat down together in the living room. His hand over my shoulder and my head against his bare chest. I had known this man for four years. He was my friend besides everything that went on last night(i am still shy). “i cant wait to spend eternity with you.” he said kissing my forehead. ‘Lets start with forever, eternity seems wide’ we both laughed then silence fell. We sat staring at blankly at the tv we all refused to turn on. All over a sudden he said. “i know we should have babies but not now”. We had discussed this way before and i wonder why he had to say it now after last night. “Tomorrow we should go to a clinic that does family planning and see how to enjoy this first year of our marriage just ourselves.” I like the idea but maybe i needed last night so that i dont feel embarrased at the clinic. He is a doctor, he could do it himself but he wanted to give me the chance of learning and understanding a few things since it was my body and i liked how much he considered me. Well our Child talk was interrupted by the boda guy’s knock at the gate. So we didnt get to agree on the names because i had to attend to the gate.

Mugole(bride) he said with an excited face Tusanyuse okulaba(we are glad to have you)…Am going to choke from this shyness soon. Kale…i said with a smile. He handed me the package and started his bike to leave. I stood at the gate so that i could close before i go  back in after he has left (the gate man only works night) Twagala balongo (we want twins) he said as he drove away….Now the demand for babies begins i thought aloud….

The Man with whom i share my Bed(1)

He woke up stretching, I was standing by the bed, leaning against the bar that holds the mosquito net up and staring down at him. He said Good morning and i responded with a sly smile. ‘Slept well i can see’…i said starting to walk towards the bathroom. and your breakfast is ready, i banged the door and turned on the shower.

I unwrapped my rob and felt the temperature with my fingers just before I stood under the shower. I Just wanted to sit under it for a while but i knew i wasnt alone anymore and he would ask what was keeping me long. I let the water slowly kiss and run over my skin. Thoughts of last night came flashing back. They just couldn’t go away. I scrubbed my body like i had been defiled. Is this what virginity at 30 smells like? It had hurt. I did scream, lucky enough our house stands alone so i didn’t have neighbours that would come knocking at my door to check for a problem.

He had been so tender with me but it still hurt. He had drawn the curves of my body like he was sketching out his next art piece. The ambiance was good. Dave koz playing softly (i mean my mourns call the noise kept hitting higher than the jazz). He softly caressed my nipples (i had never seen them that hard) Where did he even learnt all this from. How many other women has he sketched out like this. He had kissed and breathed against my neck. He had in fact left a Hickey(i saw it this morning when i got up to prepare breakfast). He buried his head in-between my legs and i recall pleading that he switched off the lights. I was shy he was sniffing and licking my NIN. I was out of breath and could not even say the word stop without spelling it..S..T..O…O…P… But he didn’t, he kept going till my legs started to tremble like a breeze of cold air had brushed quickly against my skin. He was back to my face, rubbing and kissing my lips, he dived into my breasts. I wanted to call for help….But i have avoided this way too long it had to happen ne way or another

I looked down at my fingers and their it was. The golden wedding band i got the last week. It was shinning. I quickly cleansed my body and grabbed my towel and moved out of the bathroom. He was standing completely naked searching the tv channels(was this how everyday was going to turn out?) That was a long shower he said….Let me also go in then come and see what we have today….I nodded while I pulled out the stool at my dressing table(my Senga had gifted me with this on the eve of my Traditional wedding). Their he was in a few seconds…out of the shower naked stood the man with whom am going to share my bed forever….

 

THE GIRL HE DESIRES vs THE GIRL HE LOVES

Some women come neatly wrapped in plastic

with not a single hair out-of-place.

That’s the kind of girl he dreamt of

beautiful speech and a decent laugh

The kind that smells royalty when she walks into the room

straightens her skirt before sitting

and cross legs

A glass of wine in hand

held like it’s too delicate

This was the girl he desired

one that lived life by the books

carried etiquette and dignity like her purse

one that kept memories in poems

she was a rainbow

but then across the room

Sat a mess of a girl

like wine on a white dress or weathered books.

but she held her heart behind a wall only a real man could climb

She was a hurricane,

drunk her wine off the bottle

didn’t try to live by the rules

had etiquette when needed.

Her fragrance was intoxicating

She didnt immortalise life in the stars

because they also fade away

So he had to break some rules and alter the script

and get the girl he loved.

 

Should I call him Daddy?

She said,”mama, let’s go out and do some shopping. I hope he likes this dress on me. Mam, do you think he likes blue, do you even still recall the things he like?”.

She saw her little girl trying to look her best for her very first meet with her dad. She had showed him pictures on several occasions, he had promised on several occasions that he would come and see her but never turned up. She cried in her mother’s arms for 3 years and would wake up smiling and believing he would one day come and that day had arrived. She looked at her six-year-old daughter paying attention to every detail like she was going for her school dance and teared. “mama, are you crying?” she asked drawing closer to her mother. “No, sweetheart, am happy seeing that I have raised such a beautiful girl.” they hugged. She whispered, Daddy will like it. he will like whatever you pick up. He can’t resist such a gorgeous girl. Pulling out, she said,Mama, should i be calling him daddy or…Yes darling. Whatever happened, he is still your father.

But mama, i wasnt good enough for him, it’s why he left. She said no, darling, You were too good and he didn’t want to taint the image of you before finding himself. So tone it down, meet him half way. Okay baby?.

 

They left and went home to prepare for lunch. She pulled out a box and brought it to her mother. She had been writing letters to him for the past three years. hoping that at each birthday he would surprise her and come so she would have a chance to read them to him. she asked, if it was okay to do it today and she said yes. A knock at the door and she rushed out all smiles. She followed her, opened the door and their he was. With her smile still plastered on her face she said, “you are welcome, please come in.” He went in and sat down. She pulled her little chair and sat in front of him. ‘My name is Yetta. mummy likes to call me sunshine.’She said as she extended her hand. He said. Nice to meet you Physically Yetta. They both went silent after that.

‘I have something for you.’Yetta went in and pulled out a shirt they picked out together at the mall. She had asked her mum what kind of things he liked back in the day. She came out and handed him a green Polo shirt and stood back like a scout on parade waiting for him to say something but he didn’t so her mother interrupted…

She had been watching them both as she laid the table. she went into the kitchen after everything, tried to suspend her tears and once she was ready she came out and said, “hello Phillip. How have you been”?. I have been fine. How are you both?. We are in love. she said looking down at her little girl. Lunch is served lets please get to the dinning. She added as she turned to lead the way. They sat down, Yetta said the grace and they ate in silence. Her little girl stared at the man she is supposed to call father and tears filled her eyes. She was speechless. She stood up walked up to him, his head buried into the plate in front of him, she reached out and held his face in her little palms and said “Daddy, Mama and I are happy but maybe we would have been a little happier……Tears filled his eyes. It’s the first time she had ever seen the father of her child egoless……He said, “i refuse to cry today, it’s a happy day as he tried to fight back the tears. His voice was breaking.

she stood up to clear the table. Philip spoke out to his little girl, “baby, i love you. I should have stayed”. She was dying to hear those words for sometime as much as her daughter. “today has been a little bit awkward. I need to be ready…” He added kneeling down before Yetta. I love the shirt. Thank you very much. I see you have got taste. Allow me to leave now and soon as am ready i pray it will be better. She said, “daddy there’s still time. Tell God about it and talk to mummy…..(She drew closer to whisper) “we have lots of space for you”….. He got up said thank you to his daughters mother and left…..

 

EVEN GOOD SONGS FINISH

I still remember when we sang a similar song

the way we hummed it to bed

the way you held my face in your palms

the assurance emphasised in those lyrics

those are memories I had promised to hold unto

But even good songs leave the billboard

at one point they fade

but as the baby noise grew

My face dimmed from a sunrise to a sunset

my cheeks grew blue-black

I shade of skin of being a different person each day

and when I was tired i packed

you said I would come back

you were almost right

but your song, only played on the radio

very soon it will drop from No.1

I might not entirely forget its pattern

but I know with time,

you will have never touched the skin upon my face

the Cassette will be dusty

the radio will be too old

new music will be made.

WCW -Barbie Itungo Kyagulanyi

But Ruth said, “Do not urge me to leave you or turn back from following you; for where you go, I will go, and where you lodge, I will lodge. Your people shall be my people, and your God, my God

I am the kind of girl, who gets a crush on someone and i deal with it. I make sure i find you and approach you and atleast never get to regret never saying it. I havent met this one yet (basically spoken) Because i have been in the same crowd with her several times, listened to her but one on one soon to come.

Barbara Itungo Kyagulanyi. Girl from my village.

She isnt the kinda girl i would meet and look twice. But this is a lady i would meet and want to talk to at length. Just talking. There’s something that is village attractive about her besides being Bobi Wine’s wife. She is Traditional and proud and i think i love this, being modern comes with its challenges. I do admire her. Its why i said i think what i long for is a sitting down with her for coffee or something fun and we talk. I believe she has alot to share, more than the spotlight she lives in everyday, i think there’s much more to her that i cant explain.

Reason i quoted Ruth 1:16-17. I dont know her much but again i will say, i love her. I follow her talks, social media,interviews and this is the kind of lady whose Submission i relate to Ruth(my kind of modern day Ruth). Being married to a popular guy and her background and how she balances and tries to learn and adjust. The support. I think i would like to learn from such a lady, who isnt as old as my mother but still  places value and holds somethings dear.

What was the point today…..Woman Crush Wednesday. I celebrate you. I believe you are strong and weak. I know its not always together as social media shows but i know you are someone i would love to learn from. Share ideas and stories.

Are My Country Men Idle or Simply Bitter?

Are My Country Men Idle or Simply Bitter?

I need ideas on how to get to the top page of the nationals news paper. Do you guys know what means? I am lying. I never want to get to that part I think. Anyway, i havent watched news in a long while or even read papers as much as i used to. I think our media lost it along the way, we are afraid of the truth and then a times you have one useless story running whole week or one big story being dragged when they can just come out straight with the truth and close it.

Are my country men idle? I don’t know. I dont even have the answer to that. When the AIGP was murdered, we all had opinions, analysis and ideas. Then the story just refused to die (i think the murderer is also as tired as the soul of the deceased). I feel for the family because they will never forget. Each time they try the name is back, stories are running, images are being flashed. Healing wont come easy. And whoever came up with social media, we appreciate as much as we abuse it but Jeez, these platforms never rest cases. (Did the late Mayombo attract the same attention in media? i dont remember). I am a Journalist. Well i did go to school for this and know prominence makes news but Jeez, Do these cases ever rest?.

While the nation still mourns Kaweesi (it might never stop) The Don, passes on. Now, I don’t know when the dead stopped to have privacy and when posting the remains of the deceased on social media became right, but many people badly wanted to see. (I wonder why they didn’t go to the vigil since no formal invites were sent out). Have our morals died or we simply idle. I know very many people who have lived publically and still had a share or their privacy. Actually most of the complainants for example have a public relationship, when they break up, they dont care to give us feed back(i mean we were in your lives. You included us so u owe us explanations as much). So if the deceased’s family didnt want the pictures out there, i wonder how that becomes a national problem! The national problem in all this should maybe have been the Currency being buried because it’s a legal tender and still i know we aint too patriotic so that is the Central banks problem. (the things we choose to sweat over though).

Are my country men bitter? Maybe. I mean only Nalongo had the courage to express her feelings, the rest of you suppress them and after one individual comes out, you all act supportive (maybe because you feel after her) but when things get complex, you all go back to making money and posting pictures of food and clothes. But you all are bitter. When the people’s president is on strike, you join in but if he asked to be the one that joins you, you wouldn’t even leave your house. So why bite what you can’t chew and swallow?. continue with your baby showers, and birthdays and hiring photographers to take pictures for your instagram. If you don’t carry the Balls to speak. Do what you can afford to do best. Dont tire us with complaints you aren’t willing to address.

You want change, what have you done. Be wise, Be vigilant. If you didn’t attend the don’s vigil, why ask for pictures because he lived publically? Did he know you even? Dont lie to nalongo if u cant walk besides her when it rains. We are all hypocrites.

Kazingo Tales….end

Two weeks, down, a new tenant signs in. He had a grand entrance. After the track had offloaded his things, he didn’t arrange, he pulled out his oba weed and was on it with his kyana. Now this Dude we will call Chimney. Chimney replaced mutyaba (oba this particular room is cursed?).

He came in on friday night, smoked his house out probably as a ritual to chase demons.(those ar my words).  Well, On sato, chimney and his girl spent the day organising while the rest of use were going about our personal things and cleaning. He wore his hair in dreads held back in one puff. His girl with dreads too. They looked like artists(don’t ask me which kind.) After cleaning, he was back to his “blunt” as she cooked. Sunday morning was the same for some of us. Then monday morning, as i left for work, so was chimney. He wore a long-sleeved white shirt and damaged jeans, his hair still held back, a backpack and helmet in his other hand. (Never judge a book…they say).  I walked past him and he murmured a good morning.

Evening as I cooked, Chimney returned on a bike, his madam had been indoors whole time so we didn’t see much of her. He waved in greeting and entered his house. So anyway after a few weeks, we learnt that chimney wasnt an artist, he worked with an agricultural company, his bosses were mainly white it’s why he spoke less Luganda, His real name wasnt Chimney, he was called Joe and his madam was called Stacey. Besides smoking, He loved his silence, loved to play the bass as a pass time but also played the bass at his church every time he was available. he over travelled and living downtown wasnt a problem. he was cool. Finally we had someone not as silly as the rest and personally i had someone i could hold sensible conversation with once in a while. He was like the calmer of the storm in these Buzigo. Stacey was oddly quiet. She was a secretary at an international school. They were very okay people.

Six months down,It was time for me to Shift…..

Kazigo Tales….

Tuba tuli awo twebase it’s about 1:30am and we hear a woman weeping. Peter was beating his kyana..(indeed never underestimate power of a small man.) They fought till woman ran out to the quadrangle. The village Drunko was already in place Screaming lwaki okuba omukazzi? we all came out wrapped in kangas and night gowns just to make sure peace reigned. Luckily the Counsellor is near by they called her and the kyana spent the night at her house. It’s now like 2:30 am and we have gone back and just when the sleep had started to sink in…Footsteps banging……tu tu lululu……Jeez (emizingo gyino gintamye.) We are up again and guess who they got as the thief? The Drunko. The chairman is invited and we all had to defend the Drunko because the mob from the next village almost killed him. Naye Azunga nyo eh!.

I had work the next day yet my sleep was interrupted whole night. I sadly get up and while am locking to leave for work, a lorry packs. Mutyaba was back! (is police this reckless? They can’t keep a thief for a month? Dude had come to shift.

Me:Banage Mutyaba Kulikayo?

Him:……..Landlord yazeko?

Me: Goodbye.  I mean I am greeting you ate ombuzza landlord. Mukubire essimu……