Nitumwesiga: YOU AND I

Nitumwesiga: YOU AND I: YOU AND I. Let’s start by stopping and looking around:   There is no one watching. And even if they were, Let’s just let them wat...

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YOU AND I

YOU AND I. Let’s start by stopping and looking around:   There is no one watching. And even if they were, Let’s just let them watch And go on ahead. Let’s ask some questions, and give each other answers. Let’s clear our doubts, it’s only fair. Let’s not be afraid of talking and asking. We are yet so young, we need no wrinkles. We are frightened, some times, I guess, But let’s just break free Like rain from clouds. Let’s chat about our past, And dream about the future. Let’s tell each other stories, we’ve just began. Let’s not make the mistakes our forefathers made, Let’s not regret, we know what we want. Let’s not be fixed to the rules of the past, Let’s craft our own rules and break them if we like. Let’s dart to the square, when we hear the drum, Let’s drum ourselves when the drummer gets weary. And let’s dance to the drums when our hands get tired. Let’s grab a taxi away from town. Let’s stroll on the hushed path and feel the co...
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When the dead help with fiction.

So most of March I was thinking about my grandmother Nyamwire, my dad's mom. Considering she's been dead for a long time, some of my uncles freaked out when I told them she was visiting me in my dreams. I was told to go and pray, blah, blah, blah. To which I replied that I'm trying to decolonise my mind and to stop listening to the demonising of everything traditionally African. Before colonialists arrived, I told them, our religion depended highly on contact with the dead. One of my uncles was so shocked by all this that he just changed the subject. But a cousin of mine was very intrigued and she told me to keep listening and see if maybe grandma had a message for us. A week later I went on a writing retreat in Lira and embarked on my first feature film. There is a character in the story who's the backbone of the protagonist and a symbol of love and protection. I was struggling so much with her back story because she's a Munyankore woman who lives in Buganda. I di...
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Freezing in York

Dear homeless guy in York, How are you today? Has this Bright but heatless sun shone on you Or are you still sprawled by the street, in your Green sleeping bag? In a city where people apologize for walking too close And the little streets ferry countless feet Including mine, heading off to God knows where, who notices you? While the homeless guy in London Sat by himself on the corner As his colleagues lined up For a free meal on the white van, You stood out, in pretty York. While the homeless guy in Leeds sat with a hat before him And whispered gently 'can you spare some change' even though few Gave him attention, You sat there wordlessly being. While tourists paid loads for petty souvenirs and buzzed around The street you call home, while we Were busy taking pictures and making videos, you sat Quietly by the walls of the great minster, Mocking us, ably pointing out The ridiculousness of your government Who don't value you. You questioned the discus...
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