Letter to 12 year old me

Dear me from those days,

so I was supposed to have written this 3 months ago on our birthday, but I’m sure it doesn’t matter because your knowledge of the world wide web begins next year when Bob takes you to that internet cafe near home to learn how to open an email address anyway.

On that point “bended@excite.com” is NOT a cool email username. Please don’t use it

Oh yeah and don’t worry about that hair and its colour, it will grow and  you will relax it and the brown will complement you. There will also be lots of colour and weaves to play with. Right now, its cut to short bob and red (yes, it happens)

Pringles will eventually go off the market, I have no idea why either, and yes, the texas bba flavour goes first. Kiwi shoe polish gets competition, Quencher eventually gets kicked out, and Rwenzori just drops the soap.

The spects will never go away, but on a brighter note, the sizes and colours change and they become fashionable. Being dark skinned will also no longer be so bad. E! tv will replace those bully names like ‘charcoal’ and ‘mucholi’ with being exotic looking and besides you’ll thank the stars you’re black and not a Moslem Arab man called Hussein living in the USA when it eventually launches its war on terror

The first year of high school sucks, and it will continue sucking for the next four years but the last two years are going to rock, that will be the beginning of defining you: the hips will finally break out, you’ll become a prefect, get your first letter from a boy that’s not your brother, and surprisingly manage to be cool. I think.

I know you hate school, I do too, that doesn’t change.

And karma’s a bitch because you wont win a lottery and drop out of school, you actually go ahead to get into law school

Mills and Boon will be replaced by more mature, bigger, better, more detailed novels with better sex scenes.

Because you’re a very late bloomer, you’ll get your first kiss much later, Don’t ask me when, just know there will be fireworks, and tingles in places you do not yet know that you have just like in the romance novels 🙂

That soap Maria De Los Angeles, start a hate campaign against it because its the beginning of a Tele Mundo soap invasion in the whole country, maybe even world. They are going to be everywhere on every local channel and everyone around you is going to be hooked. Be prepared.

Enjoy the innocence of using mum’s Erickson flip,because you’re going to become a slave to phone technology; they are going to come, woe you, seduce you, and leave you hanging like a guy that has to withdraw at the brink of cumming. None will ever be good enough there will always be something better and unreachable. Its miserable

Facebook and Twitter will come along but ,maybe let me not spoil those ones for you, just don’t forget to activate spam settings and don’t accept a friend request from mum or any of the unties.

You’re going to go through some dark times babes, I cant say they’ll be few, I cant say they’ll be easy, I cant say you’ll be unscathed but you will get through them.

Bella will pass on, go join Dad when you least expect it, so stop the fighting and bickering, and enjoy the time you have with her.

You will lose friends, you will get your heart broken, you will get disappointed and frustrated, you will cry and feel alone many times. But it is life. You will at least learn to smile or at least keep a straight face through it

But you will have amazing friends to help you through those times: they will make you laugh, finally give you a proper nickname, and throw you your first ever surprise birthday party.

Yes, a lot of things will change but, Yoweri Kaguta will still be your president with no hope of change

August for my women

Today is the beginning of another month; the start of a new chapter for some, the opportunity to be better than last month for others, a chance to review all those New Year resolutions we made(if you even bothered), but for most, it’s just another day to get by trying to define their happiness. I do not usually attach much to months but this August for me, is a chance to meditate, to slow down, to reflect, to appreciate, and to be thankful for all the women that have joined the pieces that are slowly unfolding the story behind my puzzle of a life.

August is the month my mother was born-that amazingly crazy woman I have endless stories about that drives me raging mad sometimes but that I’d do almost anything for, literally. She; I cannot talk about in just one post but if ever I fail in life (she could cane me for even thinking it), it will never be because of any lacking on her part. I’m so proud to be those mummy’s girls people always complain of because she’s my mummy. We do a lot together; we laugh, we joke, we gossip, we fight, we argue, we share (mostly shoes), we are mother and daughter, we are sisters, we are friends.

August is the same month my sister Bella was born, only one year older than me. Growing up, we were always confused for twins but Bella was always better than me at everything; she was stronger, she was faster, she was the snake champion-for those of you, who had good old Nokia phones, she was brighter in class and unphased by anything, she could even take down boys, that girl. But she died about 8years ago and I still miss her SO much.

One woman, one girl, both amazing, both taught me and are continuing to teach me so much about life. So this moment right now, this first day of August, I’d like to dedicate to the women in my life that like my mother and sister leave footprints, and prove everyday that there is no such thing as the weaker sex.

Liz, my free spirited kid sis who I want to be in my other life because she is so awesome and doesn’t even know it- I gladly cry on her shoulder; Julie, that friend of mine that doesn’t let you cry when you’re down but pushes a cup of peppermint tea into your hands, finds whoever put you in a funk and deals with them; Lady(yes, her name)  who takes on anything with so much love and passion, it seems like a body part the rest of us missed; Suzi, who im so jealous of because she somehow makes everything ok; Amina who reads me like a book and still loves me to bits; Grace who is one of the smallest women I know but also one of the bravest-she’s the kind that always creates new paths; and Isabella, always waiting with a big hug and warm smile and who I want to be when I grow up.

Yes my women, thank you so much for being in my life and enjoy the rest of the month.

I did, however, manage to come up with all this emotion with the help of a couple of bottles of Guinness so burn it to your memory, it’s not happening again soon.

Good night the rest of you and try to be something more to the people around you, you just never know who’s counting their lucky stars they met you

LOSING MY LIFE, TRYING TO GIVE LIFE IS NOT HOW I WANT TO GO

English: pregnancy at 8th month

English: pregnancy at 8th month (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

A lot of people keep asking me why I want to stay childless and of course, usually I just retort- ‘why not?’ but I’d like to tell everyone who cares to know that while death is inevitable; I don’t want to beg it to come to my doorstep and becoming pregnant lately will do just that. I have enough things bringing me closer to my Maker without having to add child bearing to the list; our life expectancy is at a mere  45years and I should be experiencing a midlife crisis anytime now, then there are those high risk transport things called boda bodas ridden by special men that try to see how far they can tease and coax death and get away with it every time I jump on one, and because of the high unemployment rate which stands  at about 78% among youth, I just might die of starvation, desperation or depression- whichever gets me first.

But let me just walk you through the odds women have to go through in Uganda to give that life that so many people demand of them

On average, an estimated 16 pregnant women die every day in Uganda- that’s a lot of pregnant women if you ask me especially given that these deaths are preventable. I read and hear so many stories of women dying in the ward because of complications giving birth and my resolve not to get pregnant just becomes stronger and stronger.

There is the story of Jennifer Anguko who bled to death in a government hospital in October 2010, while waiting to deliver her child as her husband begged health workers for attention.  Another lady recently is reported to have lost one of her twins while giving birth in IHK, a respected private hospital in Kampala and when asked what caused the death, the doctors actually dint know so it’s not just a public institutions problem.

I was also shocked to learn that for every woman or girl who dies as a result of pregnancy-related causes, between 20 and 30 more who survive will develop short- and long-term disabilities, such as obstetric fistula, a ruptured uterus, or pelvic inflammatory disease.

But more saddening is the fact that with Uganda’s fertility rate at 6.9%, and with your average Ugandan woman getting married at 18yrs, the number of women getting pregnant is not about to reduce.

Lately also, there have been more women that have pregnancy complications and need caesarian help to produce their child but there are only 200 surgeons out of the 2,105 registered doctors in the country. This means there is only one surgeon for every 400,000 Ugandans. And this morning I was reading an article in the New Vision about how unqualified doctors are operating on patients, case in point being the ongoing case against one Dr. Ssali of the Fertility hospital in Bukoto who admitted the doctor he allowed to operate on a female patient that passed away did not have a practicing certificate in Uganda.

Government hasn’t really done anything to change these statistics; in fact our health care system is falling apart if you ask me. CEHURD, an NGO, brought a petition against government complaining that it violated the women’s rights by neglecting to put essential medical commodities in place for them when they are pregnant and the Constitutional Court threw the case out holding that it could not interfere with the Executive’s mandate- I know, real jokers!

And so tell me reader, why in God’s name with all those odds against pregnant women, would I want to conceive on a whim of faith that at the end of those 9 months, I’ll be sitting on a hospital holding a bouncing baby girl?

I prefer to meet my death in another way, thank you