The night our house flooded

Christine, Mum and I (1996)

In the year 1998, Kenya experienced heavy rains, perhaps the worst to date which led to the famous floods which caused the loss of homes, property and lives. We were one of the families affected.

The sun was shining bright in the sky as the birds flew by and the wind was crisp. Dust filled the playground as the primary three boys kicked the soccer ball as usual after school. That day mom picked me up early which was unusual, in a new Nissan Sunny that smoothly drove up the driveway.

We lived off Hurlingham road in Nairobi at the bottom in a court of marionettes which were a short distance from the main road. Many of our guests got lost because the courts were name­less, I do not know why, probably they couldn’t figure out an appropriate name. The court had seven marionettes double stored, each looking alike, four on the lower side and three on the opposite. We lived in house number four, the very last one in the lower corner. We were the only African in the neighborhood, the rest were of Indian descent.

Immediately on reaching home, I hurried upstairs to change into my sports kit and before mother could get me to have evening tea; I was out playing with my friend Samir who lived in house number six. We usually played soccer or cricket. Each time we were outside, we had to be as quite as possible which was less likely especially around house number two where an old mean looking Indian lady often came out to yell at us in a funny ascent whenever she heard a sound around her premises. She spent most of her time at home; I guess it is an Asian practice for women to stay home while the men go to work. “What are you doing here? Go home before I tell your parents” she often yelled.

We hadn’t played for long before the clear sky turned gloomy with the possibility of rain. At first we ignored the weather and continued to play. Less than fifteen minutes later, a light drizzle started. We took cover in the shade hoping it would clear soon but it just got worse, fast. We both retreated to our homes on realizing it was probably going to pore until the following morning.

As I walked back to my room from the shower, I suddenly heard the sound of water whooshing downstairs. Wrapped in a towel, I slowly made my way down to take a peek at the strange sound I had heard. But I could not believe what I was seeing, my mom and sister were fetch water from the house and pouring it into the  back yard. The water was flowing in through the front door in full force. I rushed up to my room to wear something appropriate and back down to the kitchen for a bucket to join the struggle.  But soon I realize it wasn’t making any difference because the water level in the house was rising faster than we could dispose of in the back yard.

Mom started emptying the cupboards in the living room into the kitchen counters as I carried what I could upstairs. It was coming to about seven o’clock and Dad had not come from the office yet. The maid was off already so it was just I, mum and Christine my sister who was older by three years.

Soon mum asked Christine to sit because she was starting to get in the way. I know she wanted to help but her mental sickness (I was not told the exact disease) made it difficult for her to comprehend instructions. It had almost been a year since she had been diagnosed. She was losing her memory steadily with the dawn of each day. It was painful to watch her forget a lot of the things worth remembering. Her illness caused physical deteriorating too. The doctors had said she would heal when she turned 17 however she sadly passed on five years later at the age of 20. None of us went to the funeral because we received the news of her passing on Christmas Eve 2003 that she had passed on four months prior. Christmas 2003 was bittersweet. I was happy I was having Christmas in Uganda for the first time and yet it was sad that I had lost my sister.

The water was rushing in at a faster rate than I could keep up with and I didn't have time to sit with Christine, so I put on a movie for her upstairs and I rushed back down to retrieve valuable items like family albums, electronics and books. Mom was struggled to walk through the water to hand be things. It had now gone above her ankle. I moved as fast as my little legs could carry me while hold­ing onto as many things as I possibly could carry at a go. I might have fallen down a couple of times on the wet stair case but at the time I didn’t feel any pain. All I saw and felt was what needed to be done.

In the backyard, behind the bushy fence, a gentle stream that flowed into greater Nairobi was becoming violent as it filled up. The water from the stream was starting to make its way onto the lawn as the water from rushing in from the front door filled the house. We were trapped. It was now the ultimate race against time.

As I stood in the back yard, trying to figure out what to do next, Eve our neighbor who was in the ten grade came knocking at the front door. As usual, she was home alone as her dad who was a business­man was away on a long trip. The water level had significantly risen; it had reached my knees.

Without hesitation, I tried opening the door but the levers were stuck. My Mom rushed to help and on the count of three we yanked it wide open. We were both thrown back by a big wave of water that gushed in, which had previously been blocked by the front door. It was like opening Pandora’s box. The water level rose to about 3.7 feet. For a second, I almost regretted my decision for opening for Eve however when I saw how freighted she and her dog were, I felt sad. She was handling the nightmare all on her own. At least I had Mum and Christine with me. They were not the toughest how­ever they did provide emotional comfort which was more than Eve had.

Soon the sofa sets floated away towards the back door, I was panicking as mom tried calling dad but the land-line was down and she didn't have a mobile phone by then.

It was getting dangerous to stay in the house. To our luck, our neighbors in the opposite house came to invite us to take refuge at theirs. There was no use staying my mother emphasized. Most of our property downstairs had already made its way to the back yard and into the neighbor’s whose wall had collapsed.

 As we walked out of the house against the tide towards the neighbor’s house, holding hands, I remembered I had forgotten Christine. I rushed back in to get her. She was standing in the middle of the living room, scared, alone and shivering. When I called out her name she became confused and instead started walking towards the door leading to the back yard. Out there it was like a wild sea. Sofas floating and dirty water filled with silt from the river. She was getting closer to the door and my slippers were stopping me from moving as swiftly as I wanted or needed to. I closed my eyes, held my breath and took one for the team, diving into the dirty brown water to swim towards her. A few strokes and I found myself at the door but she was nowhere to be seen. I tried reaching for the porch light but before I could turn it on, I was hit hard by a book shelf, throwing me back into the water.

More than downing, I was scared I was going to lose Christine. I swam into the back yard where thunder and lightning now ruled the skies.

Where religious folks are getting it wrong

Jackie's status update "WEEPING MAY ENDURE FOR A NIGHT BUT JOY COMETH IN THE MORNING! We celebrate our Pastor's New ride! We rebuke all the spirits of religion, poverty Sadducees, hypocrites and the rest! 2 years back he was battling a court case that ashamed his family and now the scriptures are so right. Joy indeed cometh in the morning. It's funny how we believe that because Jesus lived as if poor, he was poor, where did the Gold silver and precious stones that the wise men gave to him, scripture tells us that he became poor that we might b rich. Not that we live in poverty like religion teaches us. Then why did he defeat the devil at Calvary. I can't wait to be RICH. It's ok for Sudir & the rest of u to ride such cars but our spiritual parents the world prefer them to ride in broken premios, we refuse the spirit of poverty and we uproot it in Jesus' name"

My comment “It’s very sad that Christians cannot read between the lines. Like they say, the church in Africa is a mile wide and an inch deep. As a pastor, driving a big car 

does not inspire people, it instead pushes them away which is counter to his purpose in life. You know why he is driving an SUV? Because he is the smartest guy 

in the room. A leader, not a follower." 

Coming across this picture of Pastor Kayanja’s new car with a followers status update, I was deeply disturbed by what religion had come to. It’s not okay to buy a car worth $70,000 while 60% of the congregation lives on less than one dollar a day. But beyond the flamboyance, it highlights the problem of religion; blind obedience. Because, you see, a religious leader will encourage followers to practice  a given a set a values to be practiced in a strict sense and they sound convincing/honest/selfless/inspired because usually they have something to gain from the followers.

In my spiritual journey, I have been wrestling with the question of religion as the answer to spiritual fulfillment and my analysis is that religion as a practice divides people because it encourages followers to obey a strict set of beliefs and hate anything/anyone that goes counter to them. Last Sunday in a Pentecostal Church, the pastor was praying against evil and Catholics made the list!

If Christians are still dividing themselves up in denominations, it’s less likely that peaceful living is possible.

Considering the war in the Gaza that nobody really wants to talk about, it’s not surprising that great deals of people have taken sides. Their choice largely influenced by religious affiliations.

Which is why the end of the war is less likely now, as the rest of the world blindly fuels it with hatred and partisan which blurs our ability to see through the smoke screen, that a child, around nine of age in that part of the world has dreams of becoming a doctor one day. No amount of hatred or political/religious orientations can justify the death of another human being, not matter what.

And like culture or politics, religion can be used in the same way to ignite people towards a cause, which usually can be rightfully justified in Holy books. Can you imagine Muslim extremists are killing tens of thousands of people a year, believing it is justified and necessary to enter paradise?

When asked if the world would be a better place without religion, Wole Soyinka responded in the Al-jazera interview, “My fear is that the devil finds work for ideal hands. If you take away religion, even something nastier will take its place… I am tired historically of the amount of havoc religion has done to the world and is still doing. I believe that religion should be very personal. State should not interfere in it because the amount of money and resources spent on religion is staggering.”

My advise to especially Christians is to follow only the teachings of the Bible, which have been consistent for more than a thousand years and not to find spiritual fulfillment in denominational teachings which can easily blur the intended message of Christs love. After all, they are led by humans, who are not perfect and often have selfish ambitions, ready to prey on followers into submission. 

And everybody should also come down, religion is nothing but a set of personal beliefs and if we are letting it divide us, we are missing our true purpose of existence which is to love one another and make the world a better place. 

How I got into film

I picked an interest in film in high school after enrolling for an after school program which taught the basics of camera work and broadcast dynamics at a local TV network in Pasadena, California. Since then I have worked on my art of telling stories through film, teaching myself what I needed to learn at the time to achieve constant improvement. After working a few odd events, I finally started making a few bucks on the side in A’level and by the time I was applying to University, it was apparent that mass communication was the next best thing to film.

At university I continued to teach myself, noticing that class was not as beneficial as I thought it would be. I have a pragmatic approach to things and naturally, in second year I joined the UCU film club, which was a collection of students that were passionate about film. A week after its inception, I pitched the idea of making a University podcast that informed and educated the student community on events happening around campus. With a great team, we managed to air six episodes in the dining hall every Wednesday of what was left of that semester. It was a unique project because I got the opportunity to create a product that required constant input from each member of the team, who worked so hard to ensure we had a weekly podcast. It didn’t take long for the podcast to be featured in the University newspaper, the standard and soon after advertisers were interested.

In the midst of the initial success, the vision for it was starting to take on a different directions, in the sense the University wanted some control over it which was why we started it in the first place; to tell our own stories our way. We wanted to tell stories which the University funded newspaper was too shy to tell. After that semester, I quit the show and it was difficult to kill ‘my baby’ however it had served its purpose which was to unite the film club with a single project. And not long after the club won its first contract from the student government to shoot a commemorative documentary for the outgoing Vice chancellor then, Steven Noll. The deadlines were ridiculously impossible to achieve but thanks to the template CTV (Campus TV as we referred to it) had created, it was much easier to implement. A week later when it was showing at his farewell dinner, it hit me that what I really wanted to do with my life was to make awesome films.

It took me another before the same conviction translated into action when I went back home after my finals to tell my dad I was moving out. It was a pretty stupid thing to do at the time because all I had was a duffle bag of clothes, an HP laptop and maybe 15,000/- in change with nowhere to go. However I had made myself a promise, that if ever I didn’t know what I was truly doing, that  as long as I was becoming a better film maker a photographer, that I would be fine somehow in my future.

It has been a remarkable journey which led me to start a film company with my classmate Carlos and we are still making films. Working to ensure that the next film is always better than the last, with the hope it will pay better too.

What overachievers can learn from underachievers

Over the weekend the announcement came that my film had emerged runner up in a film competition for exchange programs held in the United States. It was  exciting news and I bragged about it among my friends however it did not take long to start pondering why I didn't emerge first or why it wasn't an academy award because that's more important. And therein lies a big problem that overachievers face; wishing for more. I call it the the achievers complex.

Spending time with friends who may be considered  not-ambitious has taught me that success is important, though not nearly as important as the experiences and people in our lives who make it fun. In our group conversations, my friends who were not career hungry had more interesting stories to tell. My stories were boring because I couldn't tell a story more than the one involving the celebrity I met at cocktail party the previous weekend. 

Looking at what drives and inspires them, it became apparent that their values and mine were slightly different. While society often frowns at them because it natures them right from an early age to be competitive, they have discovered that the secret to happiness isn't in the numbers but the heart which they follow with a vivid imagination to worlds end.

Underachievers are known for turning hobbies into their full time carriers which  often doesn't not pay much like pompous jobs but they some how get by. Happily, quietly and content. They have discovered the formula for happiness which in contentment, witnessed each day as they realize that less is always more.

But more importantly they value a shared life filled with laughter, joy and happiness, which when summed up equals to life's experiences. Than fame, popularity or respect.

Why men beat women in Uganda (and its totally okay)

A survey conducted in 37 countries in Africa found that Uganda scores the highest percentage of Men aged 15-49 years who consider beating their wives okay as reported by New Vision.

This is a startling fact considering that we are referred to as a peaceful nation, the pearl of Africa at that. Are we secretly harboring our fears and disappointments from the world during the day only to unleash in the middle of the night? Valid questions we need to ask ourselves.

I was lucky to be brought up in a family built on the principals of love and understand. I had never quit comprehended what domestic violence entailed until I moved into an apartment, with a neighbor over the fence that fought with his wife regularly. It was like clockwork, at 4:00am I would wake up to screams of insults, loud door slams and the cry of a woman and children. Sometimes I sat up to imagine what was going on over there. It was nasty and sometimes their neighbors came out to intervene even though it continued to happen.

In the morning when I walked over to the same compound to hitch a ride with my coworker, my heart always sunk as I looked at the ‘fighting’ couple’s twins, waiting for their kindergarten shuttle to pick them up. I thought of the two beautiful angles that were exposed to frightening visuals and sounds of their parents thrifts at night, instead of being fast asleep, dreaming about rainbows and butterflies. Perhaps the saddest part is children like that are trapped in their parents dark cloud of poor choices and there is no one like social services at their aid. I imagine what kind of example the parents are setting for their daughters. As they grow, their character will most likely have two extreme traits; defiance or submission, neither of which are desirable traits of the future African women leaders our continent should aspire to promote.

Uganda is a classic case scenario of a country that is facing the after math of women emancipation and empowerment. As a society, women are below men in social-cultural hierarchy and we have historical practices that support the notion. For example Women in Uganda are under obligation in most tribes to; kneel while greeting/talking to men, eating last, staying in the background at gatherings and are certainly not allowed to echo their grievances in public especially if they contradict popular belief.

Modern times have not made life easier for women either, to play a lead role without feeling victimized. Many schools in Uganda ban girls from growing their hair, subjecting them to regular haircuts like boys, yet hair is the pride of a woman. Over time this plays against women’s self-esteem so much that at about their teen years, men can easily take advantage of them by filling missing void of self assurance and it plays to men’s favor to find a be withered woman of low standards because she makes the perfect victim for battering. Why? Because she doesn’t think much of herself and blindly obeys the man because her own voice was drowned out years ago.

For the man, the glory days of complete dominance are coming to an end and he does not like it. Naïve to him, beating his lady is a way to ensure the status quo remains for as long as it can as the reality sinks in that education has made it possible for women to own fancy jobs that command respect and in some instances earn her more than him. It’s a douchey way to live though. True manhood is based on the principal of mutual respect and trust fostered through a mutual understanding, not brutal coercion.

I think we as men have to come to grips that our error of dominance has come to a sad end and we have to redefine what manhood is and what it stands for without changing our inherent role that we have served over generations of supporting and supplement our women as a duty.

Why Jose Chameleon's 1 million shillings concert will be a hit

Last Thursday, Jose Chameleon announced at his Club unplugged performance that tickets for his December concert will go for a staggering 1 million. Way more than any other concert in Ugandan's history.

As expected many of his fans will protest the price tag and as predicted, Jose will pay a deaf ear to critics, given he is an exception to many entertainment rules. I am particularly happy about his announcement for two reasons.

Time for the rubber to meet the road

From the beginning of Jose Chameleon's carrier, he has closely been compared to Bebe Cool and Bobi wine. However in recent years without a doubt, Jose has managed to constantly and consistently reinvent himself and his music, leaving his competiton far behind amidst little mention in media.

Following his social media streams, it’s apparent that he has toured more countries in the past four years than any other local artist. Proving that he is a well sought after act internationally.  He has achieved this by concentrating on what truly matters to him and his fans; music.

The fault with many artists and by extension celebrities, is they take stardom overly serious that with time fans associate them with scandals instead of their primary business; entertainment. Chameleon continuously delivers to his fans, hits each year in a variety of genres.

At the moment, I can’t tell Bebe cool or Bobi wine’s latest hit which means their visibility is fading and their survival will depend on loyalists who love them for who they are not what they do which will affect their brand growth because they are still selling their music in same market space as they did ten years ago.

Chameleon by default is a trail blazer and his expensive concert will have a positive impact on his brand equity through providing a new opportunity for him to sell to a new audience while creating an even better entertainment experience for his loyalists. A case of behavioral change communication.

Intangible value of brand Equity

Brand equity is a phrase used in the marketing industry which describes the value of having a well-known brand name, based on the idea that the owner of a well-known brand name makes more money. Given his successful carrier spanning well over ten years, it comes with no surprise that his brand name commands more respect than any other name in East Africa's music industry. He was ranked in 2011 as the sixth most talented African Artist, closely following the likes of Akon and P. Sqaure. He has since consistently kept his fans in the loop of what is happening in his music career on social media, steering away for ego- centered interactions.

By focusing on his work, he has managed to attract an heir of aspiration around his brand which makes him far more valuable in the real world and his concert will be proof of that.

For example, Radio and Weasel have good music and are arguably as famous, following their BET nomination last year. However they are falling in the same trap of brand unconsciousness as many entertainers before them. Which is; fans love their music however because they are not communicating their brand story, consequently letting the public tell it for them hence giving them a low score on brand equity scale.

Equity is like leverage, it can be traded in for tangible rewards and I believe Jose is about to cash out on his efforts in digital branding.

Without a doubt, the success of his concert will change the music industry for good for it will change fans perception towards the value of local talent.

Why the GOU and 2016 elections can fuck themselves (Numbers don't lie)

My major grievance with the national budget 2014/15 is that its exclusively targets the poor and middle class population who constitute the majority of the country. For example, a service like Mobile money, which has encouraged monetary transaction for the unbanked sector has been levied a 10% tax per transaction. Which means sending Ugx 50,000/= will cost 5,000/=. This is an exorbitant fee for a service that is making banking available to low income earners. This isn't only bad news for the population but also the agents whose profit margin profit has been on the decline due to market saturation. 

If the ten percent is levied, it will exponentially reduce the number of transactions per individual, directly affecting the profit margins for agents, consequently forcing them out of the market which reduces the number of agents per constituency and eventually making mobile money as less accessible as banks.

Perhaps the most worrying tax increment is on kerosene, hoes and seeds. In rural Uganda, kerosene is a basic commodity for among its many uses power local;y made lamps (tadoba) to provide household with light at night . Increasing its cost by a few shillings means that a family in Arua may have to ration lamp usage at night, a hard reality. 

On the other hand, I would be more comfortable if the cost of cooking gas increased since it is consumed by the affluent population who would still purchase it even if the price increased. The taxation of hoes and seedlings is just inhuman, given the same local population practice subsistence farming; they eat what they plant and taxes on the tools is just absurd. Publications have emphasised the need for Uganda to focus on Agriculture, how are we achieving this if we are making it more expensive for a farmer to plow their land?

The main problem the government of Uganda has is it funds the budget solely from taxes and grants because it sold all its state owned franchises like Uganda railways and Air Uganda that would have otherwise brought in extra income to supplement tax revenues. It seems announcement of the national budget has come to knowing which areas taxes have been increased, as opposed to presentation of strategic approaches of how government is investing and making money from other ventures. 

The final blow came when America announced withdraw of Aid and grants amounting to over Shs. 20 billion over the anti-gay bill signed by the president earlier this year. Much as homosexuality is not a practice we as a country  support, it was not a matter of national interest but rather an interest of a handful of politicians seeking support for re-election in 2016. We were told that we do not need foreign Aid and that we could fund the budget ourselves. Well now, numbers do not lie do they? 

Effectiveness of foreign aid over the years could be debated, but we also cannot deny that it has had its impacts on healthcare and education especially in rural Uganda where our government has neglected its mandate to its own people prompting intervention of other governments (embarrassing).

Herein lies Uganda's major problem; politicization. In anyone's right mind, a sex bill is the last thing our country needed when we have failed to implement basic healthcare and education reforms. We still don't have a national birth database! Everything is political now and if a notion does not serve the political interest of a handful, it is not of "national interest." 

But I do not blame the government as much. I blame the individual bureaucrats  who portray behaviors of greedy spoilt rich kids who expect lunch on a silver plate without having to work for it, at the cost of the common man who is taxed to the eyeball. I hope that the coming generation will teach their children to save and invest so that when they are elected to government offices, they will value the importance of hard work, saving and investment.

I cringe at the thought of an election two years from now and for the record, I care less what the government or opposition have to say or do. I am just trying to make an honest living, raise a family and be happy. Being Ugandan is waking up everyday knowing that you have been fucked over and screwed so bad that its worthless to give a shit. All I ask politicians is to keep the ordinary man out of their petty egocentric fights. "Tuli bakowu."

My 2016 prediction; the opposition will loose at the polls, the government will spend trillions funding the exercise causing high rates of inflation, prompting the central bank to increase taxes in the economy to reduce public expenditure. But really, who are we fooling?

A silver lining to world's end

I woke up in my childhood room. Same bed, I slept in since high school. The window I broke has never been fixed, making it especially chilly at night. The reality is sinking in that I am finally back home because I resigned my job and just might possibility be on the brink of being sidelined by Real marketing for AAR’s business. For now it’s a possibility and a good one at that.

At this point, it’s easy to slip into a state of depression and anxiety by the chilling thought that I just might have lost everything. From a logical perspective, I walked out on a good job that perhaps in another reality would have yielded great returns.

My dream; to make phenomenal art with Carlos and reinvent the technology industry with Frank.

In my heart I know that I am much closer to my goal now than I was a month ago even though current circumstances may suggest otherwise

Regardless of the outcome, I would still do it all over if I had to.  I would much rather trade a mediocre corporate job to work with geniuses like Carlos and Frank. Ultimately we live the lives we design for ourselves and if mediocre is what we settle for in one area of our life, it eventually grows into  other areas till we wake up ten years later, only to realize, we are not living in the house we envisioned and  working on projects that bring us joy, happiness, satisfaction and fulfillment.  

I have found that the things we dream about while asleep, awake and the times in between, should never be traded for, no matter what. Status quo will always tell us it’s impossible, rewarding those who play it safe  making an example of us who don’t. To frighten us to believe less in our ideas. And when you pay enough attention to them, you will start to think they are right. The fact is we are all right.

it’s a small margin between ordinary and exceptionally remarkable and to make it to the latter, you have to be brave to take decisions counter to status quo. Intuitive to trade carefully and minimize risk gradually, be willing to loose for the possibility will keep you sane and lastly, surround yourself with people who will catch you when you fall; feed you when you are hungry, encourage you when you are down and constantly remind you that you are great even when you don’t believe it yourself. For a life shared is more fulfilling.

It’s not enough to just build a profitable company But rather, have a team that will through, conviction and dedication follow an ideal to worlds end. To see the silver lining even in when the day gets cold and lonely.

What matters is what lies ahead, not behind

We are are a total formulation of  behavior, experiences and expectations which are intertwined by our past. And its natural to always refer back to it before making a decision that may have and impact on our future, because we are more comfortable with the past and ensuring that what we are about to do, does not lead us to a path we once promised never to trade on. We like to think we know better because of our past. 

Soon, we let our past define our future, which can easily cast a dark cloud over our fate especially when we are in way over our heads. Its easy, at this point for our minds to only be open to possibilities of failure, death and embarrassment. At this stage its important to remember that there are more possibilities our minds should be open to and that failure is just one of them.

Failure is a reality, depression is a reality and yes, loosing, getting beat up and starting from scratch are all realities. But not the only realities, which is where hope comes in, when all the numbers scream otherwise. Its important through it all, never to press the panic button, and even when you think you might need to, take 24 hours to think through the panic plan before rolling it out.