Chronicles of an itinerant

It’s been an eon since I scribbled and I would be lying if I allied it to anything else save for the lack of inspiration. However, an expedition I recently partook in rendered my “fingers prickly”

Kapchorwa, Uganda is worth writing home about; the whole nine yards!

Breathtaking highway

First off, one is awed by the geometric design of this highway which; for a first timer; is daunting to drive along as the sight distance is overly limited by the sag and crest curves. However, it’s a worthwhile adrenaline rush experience. 

Fast-forward a few miles into town, you catch sight of several Sipi falls signposts for a stretch of over 5kms; evidently, manifesting the jewel in the crown of the region and the high point of my trip.

We (the Adventurers as we oftentimes prefer to call ourselves for lack of a better group name) opted to check in at Crow’s nest in Sipi village commended by Richard; an awesome lad who would be our tour guide.

The Adventurers

Richard (Center)

Muzungu as he is fondly referred to by the locals ensured that we were well settled in prior to our much anticipated tour. Why Muzungu? Apparently, he started out as a Guide at a tender age of 13 and has since been a favourite of the “Bazungu” (a term used to refer to White globetrotters) that visit the village so much so that he adopted their intonation. For instance, he says “Warafall” in lieu of waterfall.  We were totally blown away.

Donned in hiking attire and equipped with the basic tools, we set out to take a gander at God’s unsurpassable creation.

Our initial sojourn was indefinite; nonetheless we religiously trekked on; which toilsome as it was got endurable with the Guide elatedly volunteering the cultural and natural heritage of the village. In regard to Sipi falls, apparently, the natives originally called it Sepe; loosely translated as water and when the “Muzungu” came, he altered it to Sipi for reasons unbeknownst to them. However, if you ask me, the "Muzungu" felt Sipi sounded cool and closer to sipping. No?

We also ascertained that Sipi Falls is not a single waterfall, as opposed to popular belief, but rather 3 different waterfalls that form at different spots where the Sipi River flows over different high cliffs on its course down the Mountain Elgon.

One of the smaller falls

Winded by the lengthy ascending episodes, we were finally awed by the most scenic roaring waterfalls. The vibe in this place is chilly but also hypnotic. The burbling is so vigorous we could hardly hear each other save for the “huhuuuuuuuu” sounds made at every photo opportunity. We were totally magnetized,  notwithstanding that we even got soaked by the thunderous splash. What a sight to behold!

The thought that this was merely one of the smaller falls was mind-boggling!

The next one was just as amazing with rainbows cutting through the sparkly waterfalls. However, this was our last stop in the twilight as we were totally spent from excessive hiking.

Beautiful rainbow

Daybreak was yet another picturesque experience. Day two in the "waterfalls’ village" graced us with the most amazing spectacle that only pictures such as the one below can best describe.

Picturesque dawn

A friend and I opted to take an eleventh hour stroll around the village prior to heading out seeing as the rest opted to sleep in. They succumbed to the previous day's lethargy; lazy bums they are!

Still and all, Essie and I headed out with Richard for an escapade we code named “unveil major Sipi falls before departure”. However, getting to the chief falls wasn’t a walk in the park. We just about yielded quite a few times but thanks to Richard’s cajoling and a few breathers here and there, we soldiered on and, boy oh boy, was it worthwhile! This particular one is undoubtedly the most noteworthy of them all.

It plummets over a massive 100 meters high cliff. It is simply jaw-dropping. It is also the spot for the famed abseiling; which activity exhilarating as it seems; is yet to feature on my bucket list; thanks to my acrophobia!

The biggest Sipi falls

Our next destination was the Missi Cave; a spine-chilling place but akin to the falls; compelling too. We kept venturing regardless of the eerie ambiance.

Path leading to cave

Apparently, it used to be a sanctuary for one community up until government claimed it as a tourist spot for its cultural value.  They had sleeping, cooking and storytelling areas in there as revealed by the caretaker; who gleefully showed us around. The demarcations were totally artistic!

Story-telling area

Just outside the cave is another tiny waterfall-like feature. This village is so blessed with flowing water! It is little wonder that there’s so much green, blooming plants and animals.

Next to the cave

Sipi community is an outstandingly sociable lot. Skimpily dressed as we may have seemed in their books, all and sundry, regardless of age offered a hello, waved and grinned. Plus, they speak the Queen’s dialect so effortlessly it’s simply amazing.

Notably though, one ought to have with them a bag of loose change when planning on visiting this beautiful village. See, it is inevitable to use the village paths as you trek to the falls, however, even mere responding to a resident’s hello could cost you. Beat that!

It wouldn’t be fanciful to deduce that it’s how much they feel entitled considering they dwell on these lands that are so amply endowed by nature.

Nevertheless, this tour; albeit rather strenuous and occasionally bloodcurdling, was a cut above the rest for me by far.

My Present-day playlist

Loving it

•  Kyokoba – Maro ft GNL
• Equation – Desire
• Anjagala - Iryn
• Woman - Juliana
• Pomini - Ziza Bafana 
• Guluma nasomye - Ziza Bafana
• Kigwa Leero - HE Bobi ft Nubian 
• Love you everyday - Bebe Cool
• Friendly match - Zanie ft Ziza 
• Gundeeze - King Saha
• Tetubatya - Apass
•  Nva Kampala - Apass
• Bakuwe kyonywa - Nutty Neithan

......the list is endless.

I’ve always been partial to western music; particularly Old-school; hence my typical playlist comprised the likes of Dr.Dre, Mclyte, Naughty by Nature, Luniz, Outkast, Tupac, Arrested Development, et al.

It was habitual for me to listen to these jams recurrently regardless of my frame of mind, activity or place i.e. whether euphoric, downcast; at home, office; jogging, driving or going on about my chores, my stereo was always blazing with hits such as you could be my boo, 5 o’clock, 5 on it, Keep on keeping on, Jamboree, Everyday people, et al. 

Never had I taken notice of any other genre of music in spite of the countless times a supposedly fine contemporary record has been commended. I’ve been such a stick in the mud owing to the fact that old-school always sorted my music needs. 

However, I recently honed in on and was bowled over by my native music; songs until a week ago, I only heard by fortuity; at night spots, functions and chiefly from our Sentinel’s phone selection. He has this kind of music playing throughout the night while on guard. Consequently, being an insomniac, it is commonplace that I get to listen in.

It’s no wonder that while at K Palm Resort Island over the weekend, I grooved to Nkoleki by Dr. Jose Chameleon and Melody; a move that left my friends awed because for one, they had never seen me dance; ever. I am overly timid and usually a head bob is all I can afford regardless of how much I “feel the beats". What's more, they are well aware of my “old-schoolmania”. Hence boogieing to a local sound was a bolt from the blue. 

*Oh, to go off on a tangent a little, I had imbibed a bottle and half of Smirnoff Red ice; comprehensible, right? Considering I’ve been a teetotaler for the most part of my youth*

Reverting to the crux of this piece, I got to download over 50 HiPipo tracks; Ugandan songs that have made it big; leastways as claimed by the aforementioned awards and I must confess, we have some really great talent in the Pearl of Africa. 

The ladies; Iryn, Juliana, Irene Ntale, Rema, Desire, Naira Ali, Naava Grey and guys; Maro, Maurice Kirya, et al make for an impressive listen. It goes without saying that these are great vocalists and their melodies enkindle warm fuzzies. 

Our hip hop and rap referred to as Uga flow is amazing too. I can’t get enough of MUN-G, GNL, Apass, Lyrical G and Navio. These guys are awesome lyricists. 

The dance hall artists, viz., King Saha, Ziza Bafana, Sheeba and Cindy among others have had me try out rib-tickling dance moves; so funny that I only dare to bid in my sanctuary; my abode, in front of my mirror. Such a sight to behold! 

This has doubled as some kind of workout for whenever I’m not up to jogging and skipping as recommended by my Doctor. I merely have to put this playlist on replay and weird-dance my sorrows and aches away. 

A colleague tried to throw cold water on my recent inclination saying “Ugandan music has no novelty; our hip hop has gone to the dogs and artists are in it for the money”.

Well, I am no critic; merely an “if it’s groovy, it rocks” kind of girl and hence loving my roots’ playlist thus far; so much so that my vintage collection is currently tucked away.

Nonetheless, old-school will always be my first and authentic love. When it’s all said and done, the first cut is the deepest, they say.

Life; Oh Life!

Pondering my next move

It is habitual for me to inspect my facebook news feed the second I log on to my laptop at office; for it is my source for updates on current affairs about my country and the world over; seeing as I don’t watch TV much lately. Matter of fact, I haven’t subscribed for the basic bouquet of my decoder in over 8 months now.

This sunup however got me all emotional and probing my sanity a great deal; the first story I saw is entirely culpable. It was a post by one of the guys (Username Kojo) I zealously follow on this particular social networking website; for his posts kick-start my days owing to the fact that they are humorous and mostly insightful. Only this time, his status was heartrending. 

There on his wall was a photo of a lad with a caption “Gone too soon”. I’ve seen several posts akin to this on social media before, certainly; and yes; death is an invariable life reality. However, something about this picture fascinated me that I had to check out who the young fallen guy was.

“Respond to friend request” are the words that hit me on giving his wall a once-over. Shrekeezy Mhh had sent me a friend request I never got to confirm. And now he’s gone! 

What I learned in a simple mouse click left me broken, so much so that I had to steal a moment in the office privy to sob all the overwhelming emotions out.

Why so moved? That would be the sixty-four dollar question. When it’s all said and done, he was merely but a stranger on facebook; you may say and or think.  

Well, bereavement for one always gets me in a dire place; disoriented and overly downcast, naturally; particularly when it claims someone in his salad days; a youthful man such as Shrekeezy in the prime of his life. What’s more, we could have been friends. Nevertheless, I’ll never know, given that I tuned him out. Perchance if I hadn’t disregarded his friend request, I would have gotten to know him a tad ahead of the cruel claws of death. For a jiffy I contemplated confirming it; if only to peruse through his Timeline and get a peek at his life through the "eyes of Zuckerberg". I subconsciously surmised that it would somehow vindicate me and abate the remorse I harbor, and perhaps consequently venerate him. 

By the same token, I've been on a roller coaster of emotions for a while now; the whole ball of wax seems so damn bleak. I cry just about anything lately. I'm almost certain that you would ridicule me in the event that I shared half of the stuff I've shed a tear or two for in the recent past. A good case in point would be this little tale below;

See, there used to be an elderly man in my locality who was always by the beautiful gate of his residence whenever I passed by enroute to my place after work. He always smiled and waved to me with so much affection in his eyes that I got accustomed. It deeply warmed my heart; so much so that I always anticipated dusk for my daily smile and wave from my sweet old stranger by the road. 

The other day however, my friend was not at his usual spot when I drove by. I reckoned it was by virtue of the fact that I left work a tad earlier. Thus I pinned my hopes on seeing him the next day; I was yet to learn though that that was an ice cube's chance in hell. Five days without seeing that gentle grizzled smiley soul waving at me got me in a frenzy of despair. I wept in dread of the worst. Questions like could he have taken seriously ill? or had he passed on? racked my brain. Recently, unable to bear the uncertainty, I conjured up courage, walked up to the beautiful gate, slightly knocked and asked after my beloved elderly acquaintance. Apparently, he took a trip to his son’s home overseas; indefinitely. 

What seemed like uplifting news had me anguished and sobbing in the safety of my bedroom later that night. I was wounded that I never got to speak to him and tell him how much I appreciated that wave and smile. 

I have been crying a lot!

My bosom buddy Mauryn said to me today; “One thing I know about these emotional states is one always comes out stronger”. 

I hope upon a star that I emerge stronger when this episode finally passes; I’ve been in the pits (for failure to find the mot juste for my current mind frame).  I’ve got to be okay; by fair means or foul. 

To you Shrekeezy; I am sorry. Till we meet again; Rest in Peace!

And to you my beloved “smiley-wavey” senescent pal; I miss you!

Impetuous escapades; soul-nourishing

My Tom & I

It is 10:20 hours and my phone buzzes with an incoming call from Tom; my beloved Tom. My face lights up naturally. Gosh I love this kid unreservedly.

“Hey Ella. Kamba, Mauryn and I are heading out to Entebbe to beach hunt. Do you want to tag along?”

Apparently, they have a goat roasting scheduled for early June and needed to identify a place asap.For a jiffy though I fought shy of partaking owing to the fact that I’m leery at the mention of Entebbe. The traffic along that route is draining!  However, considering I had no plans for my weekend, the die was cast; I would schlep along. 

The plot was to hook up at a mutual spot at 12:00 hours. Naturally, the last person showed a little after 13:00 hours! However, I was in tremendous company; consequently, the wait was worthwhile. What with all the crazy stories Tom seems to always have! 

Forlornly, we had to head out without my girl Mauryn who called to rescind at the eleventh hour due to inescapable circumstances. 

At any rate, as anticipated, Entebbe Road was as gridlocked as ever; this time worse considering kids were reporting back to school.  Providentially, one of the guys was well versed with the course hence an alternative route in the countryside was recommended. Yes, we were able to beat the jam but the detour was so grimy that we seemed like guerrillas from the battle field when we finally emerged to rejoin the highway. It was an adventure to say the least.

Well, our first stop was at a spot called Missed call beach; why missed call? I’m none the wiser even after interactions with its stuff. Perhaps revelers are too wrapped in themselves while there that they hardly notice or take calls. 

Nonetheless, the place is simply awesome; one I would go to with a special someone for some quality time. See, it is an Eden of sorts, serene and clandestinely situated. It is a chalk and cheese comparison to the majority of beaches in this town where throngs are an ordinary spectacle; which makes them be like feeding time at the zoo. Alas, it is devoid of sand!

Subsequently, we looked in on Kitinda beach just adjacent to Missed call; merely sundered by a minute barbed wire boundary marker. This place would intuitively be written off if one judges things by face value. 

However, sauntering gives you little things to appreciate it enough to have you entranced, viz. the spot where the river disconnects from the lake; truly picturesque! The music was spot on; akin to Missed call, less crowded; plus, there’s sand (my young buddies were partial to a sand beach by virtue of the fact that they have several games planned for the D-day).

A venue was selected without further ado; nevertheless, the fun was only commencing. We broke bread at some chic hotel and thereafter rode around the town beach-hopping for frolicking sake till sundown. 

The journey back home was equally delightful; monkeyshines-packed. I've never laughed so heartily.

It’s amazing how much gaiety and fun such extremely arbitrary plots can render; more so if we are in the company of those that unconditionally hold us dear. See, I'm a teetotaler and not one to whoop it up, no matter the scenario. Hence, I come off as insipid. However, these lads; they are simply awesome and take delight in spending time with me, regardless.

Needless to say, with the regular hustles and bustles, time away from the city on such escapades can be so refreshing.

Let your hair down occasionally folks!

The unsung gem

Jajja Florence & her home

We arrived at this modest home hardly any minute after noon and a fleeting look was sufficient to give one a portrait of things. I mean, what with little kids frisking about!

My acquaintances and I set out for a charity activity as is our custom every so often and this time round singled out Kira; a suburb in the outskirts of the city.  It was the Easter break; precisely Good Friday and what souped up way to spend it than putting a smile on the faces of a few innocent souls! 

The home in the picture belongs to an exceptional elderly lady commonly known as Jajja Florence; who driven by her compassion, embarked on a journey to provide for needy kids in her vicinity. Children namely the orphaned and abandoned constitute the 17 ranging from 3-17yrs dwelling in the little house with Jajja; they so dotingly address her. *Jajja loosely translated means grandma*

We were saluted with little hugs and kisses from the overly joyous and astonishingly well kempt little ones. Why astonishingly you may ask; see, the exterior state of the house is awfully deceptive. We were under the impression that the brood would be just as dishevelled. 

However, it is evident that Jajja Florence is doing a commendable job so much so that by the time she came to usher us in; we were by now settled in the living room. Her “babies” (as she so dotingly refers to them) had made sure we were comfy. 

Finally meeting the lady was a breath-taking experience for she exudes such delightfulness that we put our feet up guaranteed that our presence was indeed appreciated. 

Well, she intimated on how it all started; saying a single mother at the verge of death was apprehensive about what would become of her two children when she eventually passed on. This made an impression on Jajja Florence so much so that she pledged to take them in. This was to be the impetus for the bang up job she was to embark on.  She since then has bent over backwards to look out for deprived vulnerable children in her neighbourhood.

Asked how she ekes out an existence; she intimates after a brief but deep silence that “things are not easy” given that she does it singlehandedly. 

Back when she had a clean bill of health, she used to grow the food they needed. However, “lately am unable because of high blood pressure and diabetes” she said. Nevertheless, she soldiers on in a bid to endow the group with basic necessities. This was tear-jerking!

“At uncommon occasions, good Samaritans like you my children (so she addressed us through our visit) chance upon us and chip in” she continued. 

Watching how the young ones drew together around her for a cuddle was enough to evince how much she cares for them. The love in her eyes, boy oh boy, invaluable! *Almost certainly the one thing that keeps them good looking even when they survive on just one meal per day*

This brings me to the crux of this article; recognizing and applauding Jajja Florence. You are simply special. I was and still am greatly enthused. I celebrated you this Mother’s day and you’ll still be my extraordinary person for 2015. 

PS: What is charity? 

The dictionary offers various definitions notably; 

"Generosity and helpfulness especially toward the needy or suffering"

See, oftentimes I invite my colleagues and people I interact with from various walks of life to have a go at reaching out to the needy and shockingly almost always get the “I’m not rich” card. However, one doesn't need to have a lot to chip in. Matter of fact, it's hardly about money.

Case in point is Jajja Florence; a weekend or just a few hours with the kids, edifying them on a few life lessons or just helping out with chores would mean the world to them. It is really a walk in the park making a difference in a child’s life seeing as they possess a variety of needs and hence are quite easy to aid. Be that as it may, whenever you can, share some of the blessings God has bestowed upon you with the less fortunate. You'll latch onto the fact that it is emotionally rewarding!

When all's said and done, huge kudos Jajja Florence! You are a priceless pearl!

Series; profoundly enthusing for the sharp-witted

Gaby,Lynette,Suzie Q & Bree

It was but another of the various Television Series I wrote off my “must-watch” list the jiffy a mate commended it years ago. Truthfully, its appellation put a damper on things for me, for I envisioned a horde of gossipy old hags up to no good. However, I was to discover one dreary weekend that prejudging the worth of something solely by face value is utterly fallacious.  

See, since I came of age, I'm intent on grasping whatever I read, watch or listen to, and, boy oh boy, was Desperate Housewives edifying!

I’m still amazed that the American comedy-drama-mystery Series is actually jam-packed with life lessons; teachings that are enlightening and mind blowing; most notably;

Trust is a fragile thing; once earned, it accords us tremendous freedom. But once trust is lost, it can be impossible to recover. Of course, the truth is, we never know who we can trust. Those we're closest to can betray us.  And total strangers can come to our rescue. In the end, most people decide to trust only themselves. It really is the simplest way to keep from getting burned.

Passion is a force so pertinent we still remember it long after it’s faded away; a drive so alluring it can push us into the arms of unexpected lovers; a sensation so overwhelming it can knock down walls we’ve built 2 protect our hearts; a feeling so intense it resurfaces even if we try so hard to keep it buried. Yes, of all emotions, passion is the one that gives us a reason to live and an excuse to commit all sorts of crimes

Death is inevitable. It's a promise made to each of us at birth. But before that promise is kept, we all hope something will happen to us. Whether it's the thrill of romance, the joy of raising a family or the anguish of great loss; we all hope to experience something that makes our lives meaningful. But the sad fact is not all lives have meaning. Some people spend their time on this planet just sitting on the sidelines waiting for something to happen to them before it's too late.

If you verbalize forgiveness, the brain can trick the heart into letting go of resentment.

There’s redemption if we try to learn from our mistakes and grow.

Every storm brings with it hope; that somehow by morning everything will be made clean again and even the most troubling stains will have disappeared. So we wait for the storm to pass hoping for the best even though we know in our hearts some stains are so indelible, nothing can wash them away.

Why do we clutch at baggage even when we are desperate to move on? Because we all know there’s a chance we might let go too soon.

Yes, it can happen so quickly; life as we know it can change in a blink of an eye. Still, we should be grateful for whatever changes it throws at us because all too soon the day will come when there are no more changes left.

We cannot prevent what we can’t predict.

Temptation comes to all of us. Whether or not we succumb, depends on our ability to recognize its disguise.

Looking back at the world, it's all so clear that there’s beauty that waits to be unveiled, mysteries that long to be uncovered. But people so rarely stop to take a look. They just keep moving. It's a shame, really.

To live in fear is not to live at all. There will always be those who face their fears and those who run away. What a waste!

*opted to not alter any word, phrase or syntax*

To be continued....*still on Season 7 Episode 2*

Perchance even I need somebody

"Cuddling" my pillow was to no avail

Under the weather, insomnia coupled with a roller-coaster of emotions; what a night! For once in an eon I was nostalgic for companionship; craved for someone to knead the kink around the small of my back, give me a tepid sponging and/or just be there.

Owing to the fact that I’m forever pinning my ears back to music, it’s not odd that song titles and lyrics feature profoundly in my musings. Consequently, “You might need somebody”; yet another mellow ballad by Shola Ama sprung to mind; particularly the lines below echoing right through my soul;

 ‘Cause everybody needs someone around

Things could tumble down on you

You'll discover when you look around
you don't have to be alone

Just one lover is all you need to know
when you're feeling all alone...

However, the contemplation was discarded just as swiftly as it had racked my brain by virtue of the fact that I’ve always held my own. Or have I? *second-guessed myself for a bat of an eye*

This fleeting introspection evoked reminiscences of a lunch-break tête-à-tête at office one dreary afternoon in the course of which a colleague called me selfish.  I had just intimated that am such a loner in respect to her query about why I'm single among other things about my social life. She had the opinion that my solitude and adamancy as regards camaraderie tantamount to that. She did have a valid point though seeing as letting people in gets me feeling smothered.

I’m an unfeigned hermit; so much so that I literally repel likely suitors. Beat that! The last person I tried to date was an incredible being and precisely my ideal man. Never had I met anyone with all the attributes I cast about for in a guy i.e. astute, industrious, empathetic, thoughtful and most notably, forbearing. *I can occasionally be a piece of work!*

Envisage a scenario where you seek the company of someone who is always either brooding or giving you a cold shoulder for absolutely no apparent basis. I'm quite certain that no one would want to hang around such. Nevertheless, this man was simply exceptional for he lingered, regardless. I had to salvage his soul by eventually flying the coop. It was the optimal choice.

Needless to say, I suck at this relating game and consequently, maintaining such relations if ever they endure through my elusiveness and flourish. It is this self-consciousness that has me evasive and alas, many a time labeled an egotistical little bitch.

Well, back to my nocturnal ordeal, repression has always been my escape in such situations.  Last night however, I was beside myself with such pining that all my efforts were frustrated. Perhaps, by virtue of the fact that I had turned off my bedside lamp since it had been flickering?  Darkness plays tricks with my mind and subsequently, renders me feeble.   

It goes without saying that it was an ice cube’s chance in hell trying to master my emotions; so much so that I resigned myself to the ride i.e. let them linger. I became conscious of the fact that it was a catastrophe of sorts when playing my favorite genre of music and staring at the stars by the piazza didn’t quite cut it too.

I stopped short of seeking out the one lad I always hanker for during such forlorn times. The only one I would rather consign to oblivion. *a tale for another day*

Perhaps I do need somebody.....