I am Back

I Am Back

Nkomyewo. I arrived yesterday morning. My pictures are not yet ready because I left my disposable camera with a friend who will send the photos once she finds someone travelling to Uganda.

As I settle in, I want to share some of my most memorable malooo…kyalooo experiences from my recent trip. These small but striking things stood out for me abroad, and they made me reflect a lot on life back home.

The African Fellowship Abroad

One memorable malooo…kyalooo happened last Sunday when I went to church with some friends. I was so happy to find many Africans there, including Ugandans I already knew. The church had been hosting different African regions to showcase their countries. That particular Sunday was West Africa’s turn, and it was pure excitement.

You should have seen how the Nigerians, Ghanaians and Ivorians boasted about their food, dress and culture. Their video clip even showed famous footballers, and their capital cities looked more organised than our Kampala. I couldn’t help but feel like Uganda had very little to show off in comparison.

Ugandan Food in a Foreign Land

Another unforgettable malooo…kyalooo was on Saturday and Sunday evenings when my hosts took me to their friends’ homes for dinner. These were friends who had grown up with my friend’s husband in Bugolobi flats, and one of them was even my old schoolmate.

Because I am a Gishu, I was glad to discover that some of them were also Gishu or half Gishu. The meals made me feel at home — we ate matooke, kamalewa, tilapia and many other Ugandan dishes. We talked till midnight, moving from the Gishu accent to politics, even reaching as far as Obama.

One story made us laugh until our ribs hurt. A lady with a Gishu accent once said in Luganda that she had forgotten milk in the bus. But in Luganda, the word she used for milk also meant breasts! So it sounded like she was saying she had left her breasts on the bus.

The Blessing of Wheeled Bags

Another malooo…kyalooo was the wheeled travel bag. Whoever invented wheeled bags did us good. It felt so nice not having to lift my heavy suitcases to Heathrow. Even small children were happily rolling their tiny bags, and elderly couples too.

But my joy ended when I reached Uganda. Our rough roads and pavements forced me to lift the bags again, and I ended up getting a special hire from Entebbe to Bukoto just to avoid the lifting. In London, the smooth streets made rolling bags so easy that at Victoria Coach Station I just stood amazed at the sound of dozens of wheeled bags crossing the street. Truly, EVERYONE had one.

Transport the London Way

The last malooo…kyalooo was the transport system. I was amazed every time I used a tube, overground, coach or bus.

In London, buses and trams share one ticketing system, and the Docklands Light Railway (DLR) is also connected to the Underground. The city is divided into travel zones, so when you buy a travel card, you simply choose how many zones you want to travel in — for example, zones 1–3 or zones 1–6. The price changes depending on the zones.

Buses, however, do not use zones, so one card is enough to take you anywhere within the bus network. That was surprising for me, because in Kampala, each stage has its own fare no matter how near or far.

I was also introduced to the famous Oyster card. The Oyster card is just a plastic card where your transport money is loaded. Instead of using those paper tickets, you only place the card on the machine and the gate opens. It was cheaper and more convenient, especially for people who travel regularly. I malocated at how smooth it was.

Sadly, I lost my Oyster card just before leaving London, and I felt so bad because my host’s wife had put extra money on it and wanted me to post it back to her. Years later, I actually found it again! When I told my host, he just laughed and said I could use it on my next trip.

Final Thoughts

These little malooo…kyalooo moments — from food to transport to wheeled bags — opened my eyes to how different countries organise daily life. They also reminded me of the areas where Uganda still has a long way to go.

Travel isn’t only about sightseeing. It is also about noticing the ordinary things that make life smoother elsewhere and imagining how we could improve them back home.

P.S. Although this post is showing July 2025 as the publishing date, I first wrote it in April 2009.

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Confessions of a Distracted Student: Social Media vs. My Studies

    

Me distracted at the Kampala Writes LitFest

Social Media Addiction Has Hijacked My Reading and Writing

This is my confession as a first-year Humanities student doing Literature, English, and Journalism. Social media has eaten into my books and my writing. These days, I can hardly concentrate on one page before my phone beeps.

Most of my free time goes to scrolling. One and a half hours on YouTube, broken by quick checks on Instagram, X, and Facebook. The notifications keep pulling me back every other second. Before I know it, the whole evening has gone.

The Effect on My Reading

Because of this habit, my reading has suffered badly. I used to enjoy novels, but now even short stories feel heavy. In class, I find it hard to focus on long texts. During exams, I even dodge some questions just because I do not want to “overthink.”

I’m not alone in this. Studies show that many young people are reading less. Teachers also complain that social media is spoiling students’ reading habits. Even I have noticed my own comprehension going down.

The Effect on My Writing

It has not stopped at reading. Social media has also touched my writing. I love writing, but these days I find myself struggling. I keep checking X for updates instead of finishing assignments. Handwriting is another battle. I have forgotten how to hold a pen fast. My fingers get tired after a few lines.

Back in the day, handwriting was natural. Now, with all these gadgets, even cursive writing is dying out. Studies have found that many young people can no longer write properly by hand. I feel that pain myself — as if technology has robbed me of something important.

The Turning Point

Last year in December, I attended the Kampala Writes LitFest at Onomo Hotel. Seeing poets, authors, and readers celebrating Ugandan literature reminded me of my first love: books. That festival gave me hope.

My Plan

I want to detox from digital life. That means reducing screen time, handwriting more, and visiting the library — not only when exams are near. I want to rebuild my attention span and find my love for reading again.

This is not to say social media is all bad. It connects us, informs us, and even inspires us. But when it starts killing our books and pens, then it has crossed the line. For me, it is time to reclaim my reading and writing life.

References

• Casey, M. (2013, July 28). Has technology ruined handwriting? CNN.
• Janine. (2025, January 22). Impact of digital media on children’s reading habits. Tutor Doctor.
• Rena, T., et al. (2025, January 21). Generation Z is losing a skill we’ve had for 5,500 years. Indian Defence Review.

 

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Malooo...Kyalooo

Apart from taking me to her children's school and Buckingham Palace where I saw two-foot guards from the Household Division marching around (the ones that wear scarlet tunics and tall black fur caps known as bearskins), the Victoria Memorial sculpture in front of the palace, my former boss’ wife offered me an unforgettable walking tour of central London.

She walked me through the Piccadilly Circus, Oxford Street (where I saw many famous shops and restaurants), Regent Street, St. James Park, and then we entered St James' Palace to visit her friend whose husband is a chef at Buckingham Palace. Her friend also used to work there as one of Princess Diana’s maids or something.

It was surreal to be so close to the walls and rooms that had witnessed parts of royal history.

We had met her friend at their children’s school, then she invited us to her place for tea. She had to inform the guards at the gate about our coming, or else they would not have let us in. Security at royal residences is understandably tight, and seeing the protocol in action gave me a glimpse of how the monarchy's world works — layered, precise, and protected.

St. James is still a working palace though the monarchy has not lived there in quite some time. I got to see where Prince Charles and his sons live. I hear the palace is also home to Princess Alexandra and housed the Queen Mother until her death just a few years ago. I also saw two guards from the Household Division in front of one of the gates at St. James Palace.

Then, just as we were getting out of her friend's house, my former boss’ wife said, “Samali, look behind you.” What I saw was quite a sight. There was a large group of foot guards standing outside. They were all clad in their scarlet tunics but without their bearskins and they were staring at us. They are responsible for the safety and protection of the Sovereign at Buckingham and St James' Palaces.

It was one of those moments where time feels paused — a brush with tradition that made me stand still. I couldn’t help but wonder what they saw when they looked at us: visitors, civilians, outsiders stepping briefly into their guarded world.

From there, we visited the church where her husband works. It is next to BBC World Service. She bought me an Oyster card and explained how it works, but I wonder if I will have the courage to do so on my own.

The city moves so quickly, and even small things like public transport can feel intimidating. But that card — handed to me with kindness — felt like a key to independence.

I am supposed to have visited some art gallery this afternoon, but instead I ended up at an internet cafe where I put up this post, yet I could have done this free of charge at their house. But maybe I needed this little corner to be alone with my thoughts, to absorb everything I'd seen, and to write — to remember it all while it was still fresh.

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The 'Obama Times'

Imagine me as a radio news reader, a news tale before me on paper, complex words in teensy-weensy print for the Obama Times.

Create mentally a picture of my Facebook friend whom I have never met and who owns the Obama Times, turning over pages where I should read, since I seem to use so much effort in reading the long sentences. Then I stumbled on the word Tsvangirai and pronounced it like I have heard it on the news chang-girr-IGH (-ch as in church; -ng-g as in finger; -irr as in mirror; -igh as in high). The pronunciation of this word has stirred up public and media interest, inside and outside the BBC, because of different opinions of how the Shona -tsv cluster should be pronounced in English.

Then I awake.

I send a text message to my friends about the dream, and one of them responds, 'Maybe there is something to the dream. Email your Facebook friend about it and see.'

However, after flipping my mind through my dream, I realised that dreams can be a sham.

There should have been a teleprompter so that I would not need to look down at the print. At least a teleprompter would have helped me appear to have memorised the speech and so speak spontaneously, smoothly, without any hesitation or mistakes.

It should have been a simple, brief and easy-to-read news report with short sentences that could easily be read with a single breath.

The font should have been average-sized sized and the words written in the present tense since it was broadcast news. This would give the report more of an "action" feel and add more drama.

Names should have been in phonetic spelling so that they are pronounced correctly. For example, pronunciation would be pruh-nun-si-AY-shuhn.

There was nothing to this dream. Besides, I am sure there is no media outlet called the Obama Times.

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Why Dogs are Amazing

Yesterday, at the Wandegeya traffic lights crossing, I noticed a stray dog beside me. I was amused at the way it stopped patiently with the rest of the pedestrians and crossed the road together with them at the right time.

That left me thinking, ‘Was the dog just copying what the pedestrians were doing or was it aware of the dangers of crossing the road while vehicles were still moving?’

According to research by Friederike Range and Ludwig Huber, of the University of Vienna, and Zsofia Viranyi, of the Eötvös University in Budapest, dogs, like human infants, do not simply copy an action they observe, but adjust the extent to which they imitate to the circumstances of the action.

Normally, dogs prefer to use their mouths when faced with a task of opening a container by pulling a rod. However, in the study, a female dog was trained to open the box with her paw. When the other dogs observed the female's action, they imitated it in order to get the food. However, the dogs imitated selectively. They used their mouths instead of their paws for manipulating the rod when they had seen the demonstrating dog using her paw while holding a ball in her mouth. However, when the demonstrating dog's mouth was free, the dogs imitated her action completely and used their paws themselves.

The dogs sensed that the female dog was unable to use her mouth because she had a ball in it, so they chose the easier, more preferred way to achieve the goal. But when the mouth was free, there seemed to be a reason for the demonstrating dog not to use her mouth, and so the dogs imitate the action.

Do you have anything to share about what dogs can do?

I saw a documentary yesterday on NTV on many amazing things about dogs, especially their sense of smell. I remember my late father narrating to my mother and me a story he had heard on BBC about this dog that kept sniffing, snuffling and becoming agitated whenever he sat at his master’s leg or something. Indeed, when she checked with her doctor, it turned out she had cancer.

                                                                        Reference

ScienceDaily 27 April 2007. 22 May 2008 http://www.sciencedaily.com­ /releases/2007/04/070426145103.htm

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Please, Stop the Fights

I cannot believe how much I like Les Wanyika music compared to my childhood days. Perhaps it was my brother who disliked them more when we were growing up in Kenya for he made sure he always came with his own music from school (Kings College Budo). He banned Swahili Service in the house unless Leonard Mambo Mbotela was on with his Jee huu ni ungwana? I remember as children we used to imitate Leonard Mambo Mbotela with his live football commentaries “Kadenge na mpira, Kadenge na mpira, anachenga, moja, anachenga mbili, anakuja katikati....wasikilizaji, wananchi, mashabiki ni...(gooooooooooooooooalllll!!!)X3”

English Service did not go well with my brother because he said it played outdated songs. The radio never left my Mom’s bedroom but once my brother was back home from school, it would be in our room. I seem to remember my brother saying that President Moi had stopped any Kenyan radio station from playing Western music.

Today he is in the UK but Mom says he has tried his best to get the ‘Sina Makosa’ music. Les Wanyika is obviously one of his treasured collections.

The situation in Kenya has triggered off the memory of such songs being played in the bars in Cheptulu, near Kaimosi in Kakemaga district (and not very far from Eldoret where some Kenyans were burnt to death in a church building). As these songs would be played, it was not uncommon to see a well endowed woman swaying her hips slowly to the song, enticing the men to join her.

My heart goes out to all my Kenyan brothers and sisters. Please, stop the fights.

Sina Makosa - Les Wanyika - tizedboy

Huyu ni wangu yule ni wako
Chuki ya nini kati yangu
Mimi na wewe

Nasema.....Sina Makosa eee bwana aa

Wewe una wako nyumbani nami nina wangu nyumbani
Chuki ya nini kati yangu mimi na wewe

Nasema........

Paulina - Les Wanyika - tizedboy

Paulina mama
Shemeji naleta mashitaka
Sielewi lengo la nduguyo oo
Vibaya sana mama aaa

Naona imani yake ee....
Ni ndogo kwangu mama
Shauri Yako - Super Mazembe - tizedboy

Nilikueleza yaka we mama Fatu wangu mama
Mapenzi ya kwetu ee haitagawiana mama
Tabia yako na yangu haisikilizani eee
Unaona unaona sasa we mama(x2)

Unapenda kuvaa mimi sina namna mama
Unapenda kula vizuri mimi sina PESA o Fatu ee
Niibe Mali Sizoweye watanifunga
Niue mtu nipate dawa ya fedha

Niue mutu watanifunga
Niue mutu Dhambi kwa Mungu

Shauri yako, shauri yako ee(x2)
Shauri yako wende lote Sena wangu
Siwezi kuuwa mutu mama
Dhambi kwa Mungu mamaye
PamelaII - Les Wa Nyika - tizedboy

Jambo la muhimu
Nakuomba Mama we
Twende kwa wazazi nyumbani.....wakatuone

Wandugu zako wote nimeshawaona ee
Waliobaki Wazazi wako Pamela ee aaa

Jambo la muhimu
Nakuomba Mama we
Twende kwa wazazi nyumbani.....wakatuone

Maneno ya busara kutoka kwa wazazi
Nimeyapata na Dua njema

Pamela ee aaa
Jambo la muhimu Nakuomba Mama we
Twende kwa wazazi nyumbani.....wakatuone

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