MUSE

I want to write

A song i can't sing.

The songbird that sings in my thoughts

Makes my own song fade in a cacophony of undulating voices.

She holds my mind hostage

With pictures of her nature's own hand painted face.

i want to sing but i wont. 

The resounding sound of her tantalizing voice

Echoes through to the chambers of my heart,

Releasing Oxycontin in my flesh human veins.

Her delicious smile, a delight to behold

Excites my gastric walls.

The wind blows her skirt,

Carrying with it oud scent,

Filling the air with ecstasy,

As she walks around in wild horse gait

Tossing her spell binding titillating hips here and there.

Shimmers of her elate my spirit yonder,
My muse, musical wonder.

BETTER THE DEVIL YOU KNOW THAN THE ANGEL YOU DON'T

On Wednesday morning, I woke up to the news of Republican candidate Donald Trump’s election as president of the United States of America on BBC. It hit me like an ocean wave and i was still recovering 'Was this really it?' i kept asking myself repeatedly.. It took me an hour or so to sink it in. How Donald trump had managed to win left me estranged to this new reality. So i paid close attention to the T.V set where a lot could then go on to be said of the election outcomes in the ‘swing’ states Florida, Ohio, Pennyslavia, but that to me was besides the point. A man who was a new comer to the U.S public political domain, represented a radical shift from conventional political rhetoric and labeled as a ‘demagogue’, grossly incompetent, e.t la. How had he won!  Of course there are lot of complexities when it comes to predicting American elections outcomes. The two main political parties i.e the republicans and the democrats dominate the political arena, and project themselves as the only viable vehicles for change almost similar to the choice between multinational big company coke or pepsi . The choice is limited. You either have a blue or red state, period. So, how did Donald trump win. The above mechanism partly answers the question in that over the years power has oscillated from one party to the other and this has been the cycle since 1989 up to present. Beginning with George walker Bush (republican) to Bill Clinton (democrat) to George. W. Bush (republican) then Barrack Obama (Democrat) till present. If anything, Hillary faced that disadvantage. To upset a cycle that has entrenched itself coupled with the fact that she represented the current existing ‘establishment’ was never going to be easy. The winds of change have always rode high in this American democracy crushing whatever it comes across and they particularly did so in the present election, never mind what a poor candidate Trump was perceived to be. Let’s remember that before 2008, most of the American society (white supremacists) would never see a black American take on the reins to lead their nation. Compare Obama’s racial bar with Trumps ‘hate’ speech, and you’ll appreciate the wind of change phenomenon that inevitably takes its toll against all odds. No doubt Hillary Clinton was the more fitting option, in the words of Obama justifiably labelled the ‘most qualified candidate to ever run for U.S presidency’. All opinion polls went in her favour and the winds of change threatened to side with her ‘being the first woman president’ but there was an added factor in play this time and that is ‘better a devil that you know that an angel that you don’t’ Trump may have been a political newbie, seen by many as a bigot, sexist even rascist et la. On the other hand, Hillary Clinton as experienced, competent e.t la. However, for all the good qualities she had, they were vitiated by her email scam. It crippled her campaign and portrayed her as a secretive corrupt politician. As secretary of state, using your personal email account to conduct government business is suspect notwithstanding that there was no wrong doing confirmed by the FBI. This did not help her campaign no matter her political correctness. Even the most ardent democrat would concede that this was a tough call to make i.e. voting Hillary or trump when the most obvious choice would be voting their democratic candidate. People don’t like dishonesty, the idea that somebody is manipulating the system dismays them. It is suffice to saying that 'am fooling each one of you minnows, s*ck it'. These are things Americans don’t take lightly. It is only in Africa where a leader declares unequivocally that they won’t be standing for presidency and later come around to withdraw as if saying ‘back then I was naïve I did not know what I was saying’ and we still let them stand and tap out from their promise. Quite clearly this was a choice between two evils, and people opted for a more brutally honest Trump who is not afraid to say that he would built a wall on the borders of U.S.A, deport unlawful immigrants and all other politically incorrect things. For all the misgivings people have against trump, he cannot be accused of seeking political correctness and why this was an unprecedented U.S presidential election.

While the world was recovering from the shock of Brexit, Trump was quick to commend the U.K for making such a bold decision to withdraw from the E.U thereby restricting freedom of movement across borders that comes with being a member state. In an increasingly globalized world, the idea that a country can restrict cross border immigration became tenable all of a sudden. And Trump represented a section of Americans who felt like they were being swallowed up in a more globalized world, an issue which trump manipulated to his advantage despite its unapplausibility considering the fact that America itself is a country that was built by immigrants, its diverse mixture of cultures and ethnicities, a country viewed worldwide as one of second chances (read the American dream), a country of endless possibilities et la. Surely, this is not a country that ought to close its borders to other people, it’s simply against what America is, the values that have built this nation and its national spirit for example the preamble of the American constitution highlights the idea of building a more perfect union between people of foreign descent and nationalities. This is simply not a country that should close its borders to other people. But these are realities that the world is facing especially hostility by citizens of respective nations to moslem immigrants even when their countries’ governments are willing to sympathize as is the case in Germany and France. Brexit is also attributed to the immigration concern that would cloud the U.K in case Turkey (dominantly Muslim) was later admitted in the European Union. Its citizens would have the freedom of movement in all European states as that enjoyed by other member states of E.U. Trump painted a grotesque picture of what would happen to U.S.A if it opened its borders to immigrants. He argued for example; what would stop 700 million people from one day flocking to the United States. Of course this is gibberish!!!, not in the least possible. We are talking about all the population of the south Americas combined entering U.S.A one day but it managed to play to the people emotions and most of them were unfortunately convinced. Trump has made a lot of unjustified statements which his supporters have galloped like fish in the water. That is the ugly beast of democracy. It is hard to imagine a democracy without freedom of speech. At the end of the day, trump cannot be faulted or prosecuted for speaking untruthful facts to unsuspecting masses of the American people. Trump’s election as president of the United States creates a dark cloud of uncertainty that hovers all over the current world affairs. Perhaps it’s time for a new dawn where globalization is seen as a threat rather than an opportunity. The people of the U.S.A have spoken. You cannot stop an idea whose time has come.

IT WAS A DREAM COME TRUE AT HALFTIME

It was a dream come true at halftime. You could see the exhilaration on everyone’s face and it prompted us to take pictures in a jubilant mood. Remember the match was not over yet. We bounced back on pitch all pumped up to win and give joy to our beloved 2^nd year class supporters even if it meant putting our bodies on the line. Before I continue on how the second half turned out, I still lay back on my bed and see the many beautiful things we did in the first half. The dribbles, the tackles, the pin point passing in the final third, the interceptions… oh me and Mugerwa were brilliant in the middle of the pitch. We had squeezed them almost to suffocation. I particularly remember the tackle I made on one of their most potent players, dispossessing him and launching an attack that should have produced a goal had it not been our lack of urgency in front of goal. We had waves and waves of attack but somehow didn’t score more than one goal, the only goal that came courtesy of the flamboyant ayrone, our number 10.  The game was so easy at the moment, confidence was sky-high and we knew this was surely our day. Everything was smooth and cool as you like until the referee blew for second half period. Even so, in the first ten minutes we still played with that feeling of camaraderie, put our best foot forward and made surging runs in search of a goal. And then it happened. The mistake that cost us a goal. As a result of failure to clear the ball from our defence, one of their players pounced on the ball and slotted in their first. I knew we would come back and score more goals. Not when I looked on the touch line and I was being signalled to come off. I remember one of our players (name withheld) urging me to stay on the pitch;

 “Do they think that we have already won the match, stay on let them sort themselves out.”

Then we played on for some five minutes still a strong coherent side. When I was signaled again, I was quick to comply and I told myself as I strode off the pitch ‘if it is my substitution that is needed to win this game, so be it. After all I will start the next game when am fresh’. Mugerwa confessed to me after the game that when he saw me being substituted, he felt like crying. I was his insurance ticket, I gave him freedom to roam forward and cause havoc without minding about defensive duties. He too was like water in the desert for me because I did not have to worry so much about helping in attack. My role was to cover for him which I did splendidly. No wonder our strikers could afford to miss chances but there was always some optimism that the second goal was coming. Life after my substitution was hard. The lad who replaced me played a nice game but there was no longer that assurance in possession, that calmness on pitch, and to be fair to him, he did a little too much. Getting himself sucked into the opponent’s game, chasing every ball, they were happy to pass it around so easily. We barely had the ball in the second half. Our players still pushed on and on but the tables had turned. They had gotten to our Achilles heel and that was ‘panic’ on our side. We no longer played our game. Our substitutes were flowing in but to no avail. We still managed to hit the bar and forced two saves from their keeper. But for most of the time, our backs were on the wall. The final straw was when they scored their second goal. ‘What happened to our first half mentality’ I thought to myself on the touchline now seeing the game in the players’ lenses. I could see they were fazed and rattled. The more they tried to assert themselves on the game, individually, the more we lost the ball. We no longer played tag team. It was ‘me’ and what I can do to help my team win. And that is what cost us the game. That sweet cherry taste of victory.

I KNEW SHE WAS MINE

There she appeared,
She approached stealthily, with occasional darting steps.
Her eyes taking momentary glances at mine and on the ground.
She approached.
Like a majestic bride walking up to her groom,
She came to me

In the middle of the road we stood,
Clasped in each other’s hands,
We were guilty,
Guilty for causing a spectacle.
A prayer for the night to cloak us in its darkness,
But all on vain, we stood there helpless.

We started for the walk,
Each step, a draw closer,
From the walk of shame.
Us innocent souls, the distance did great injustice,
From the prying eyes of onlookers

At the fortress we sat.
Words, I could not conceive
A smile to egg me on,
We were drowning in excitement,
Her face beaming with happiness,
As we burst into life with little talk.

Her eyes blinked with joyous exuberance,
Lighting up the very dark corners of my inner being,

We strode together in the forest of her dreams..

Her lips releasing anecdotes of love.

I knew she was to be mine

For one is such a lonely number

TROUBLES OF MY SOUL

Who am I, what am I,
My heart's woes,
In the mystic darkness,
crying and wailing
To the sleeping child
Suppressed by the mystic warmth

The mystic warmth,
Filling me with blind faith,
draws me closer to the dangling flames.,
oh what a sweet sensation!
slowly but surely, setting my soul ablaze.
From hence on, I can only become cold,
And yearn for the mystic warmth.

I don't blame the mystic warmth,
If only I had kept away from its alluring presence,
For one thing leads to another,
And virtuous acts breed good habits,
Virtue, only a few possess,
Is the only way men of great resolve set themselves apiece.

ECOUNTER WITH A STRANGER

One fateful evening, I was sitted outside the gate to our home waiting impatiently for someone to open. After several hours of knocking, all my frustrations began to ebb away. As if subdued to the prospect of staying outside for the rest of the evening, I decided to sit on a large octane stone. I looked around and met the dog eyes of a stranger seemingly in his mid twenties. His agrarian and humble nature is the first thing I noticed. He was wearing an over-sized shirt that swayed in the breeze. He began to approach me;

 “He is an evangelist.” I thought to myself.

Had I guessed him right? Yes, he was indeed an evangelist. I was pleased at my prejudice but the prospect of being preached to felt like a sharp stab in my liver. We shook hands and shared pleasantries. I too managed to forge a plastic smile to let him know that I was comfortable with his motive. My heart was heavy with a knot I could not understand. I was being taken, taken in God’s paradise. People passed by us as if we were enemies, children of the Most High who should have nothing to do with them. Ironically, I felt more inclined to the passersby who seemed to pity me.

The young man brought me to his attention with a sharp toned voice;

“Do you know God’s name? Have you ever had preachers in your churches emphasize it? What is his name?”

This barrage of questions took me aback.

“His name is Jehovah”. I replied with certain iciness at his very light questions. His boldness upset me. To ask me if I knew God’s name! He must have thought I was a pagan, a typical one in fact.

Immediately, we got into the thick and thin of the true religion, the history of the church, Jesus Christ, baptism all the way to the Roman Empire where there was a man called Emperor Constantine. It was like rain drops culminating into a heavy down pour. In each instance, I would manage to kick in and supplement or challenge his knowledge of the bible. Luckily, I had managed to convince him that I wasn’t green on matters of the Christian faith but the wedge came about when he began to loosely strain that Jesus is not lord, merely a servant of the Almighty God just like other prophets. And that he (Jesus) appeared to man in a reincarnated form different from his past being when he was Archangel Michael. All this mysticism seems inexplicable and sudden to believe. I panicked and immediately my thoughts started to linger away in revelations about a verse that warns of false prophets and how they would come in the last days. I cut him short and asked him point blank.

“is Jesus your lord and personal savior”?

“Yes,...” he replied hesitantly and continued “In some way because it’s obvious that he died for us on the cross but the ultimate savior above all is God Almighty and it is he that you should credit as your lord and personal savior.”

I was lost between acknowledging his argument and protesting. It was no longer a discussion about Christian faith. It was now a question of one’s religious beliefs and the true Christian religion like he insisted time and again. Was he trying to divert me into a certain religion that believes in the reincarnation of Archangel Michael as Jesus? The intricacy of religion seemed hard to withstand. It was now dark. How time had quickly elapsed, I could not remember. I excused the young man and left in disbelief. (to be continued)

Collins Tumukunde shandaba