I am Back

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

Otherwise, my memorable maloo...kyaloo experiences:

The African Fellowship
One memorable malooo…kyalooo experience was last Sunday. I went to a church with my friends where I met so many Africans, including Ugandans. I knew some of the Ugandans. The church had been having different regions of Africa talking about their countries. Last Sunday was West Africa’s turn and it was fun. You should have seen how the Nigerians, Ghanaians and people from the Ivory Coast boasted about their food, dressing and culture. I felt like Uganda had nothing to boast about when the video clip showed some of their footballers. Even their capital cities seemed more organised than our Kampala.

Ugandan Food
The second malooo..kyalooo experience was on Saturday and Sunday evenings when my hosts took me to their friends' houses for dinner. They were friends who grew up with my friend’s husband in Bugolobi flats, and one of them went to school with us. Since I am a Gishu, I was glad to discover that some of them were Gishus or half Gishus. We ate Ugandan food (including Matooke, Kamalewa, Tilapia and etc) and talked till midnight. Topics ranged from the Gishu accent to Obama. There was this story about a lady with a Gishu accent saying in Luganda how she forgot milk in the bus, but what she didn’t know was that what she was referring to as milk meant breasts in Luganda. So it appeared as if she was saying she left her breasts on the bus.

Wheeled Bags
The third malooo…kyalooo is the wheeled travel bag. Whoever invented wheeled bags did us good. It felt so great not having to lift my heavy suitcases to Heathrow, to and fro. It was so cute watching little children rolling their tiny bags on wheels at the airport. On London streets, it was quite common to see an elderly couple walking with a wheeled bag.

You can imagine my irritation when I reached Uganda and I had to lift my suitcases, thanks to our rough roads and streets. I ended up getting a special hire from Entebbe airport to Bukoto just to avoid lifting my bags. The smooth floors and streets in London make it so easy to roll your suitcases that at one point, when my friend and I were heading for Victoria Coach Station, I couldn’t help but gape at the noise that came from the bags as people crossed the streets. EVERYONE had a wheeled bag.

Transport
The last malooo…kyalooo is the way the transport system is organised. Whenever I used a tube (underground), overground, coach or bus, I was amazed.

Buses and trams share a common fare and ticketing system, and the Docklands Light Railway (DLR) and the Underground another.

London has several travel zones. When buying a travel card including tube travel, you will need to specify how many zones you wish to travel in, for example, zones 1 - 3, zones 1 - 6, and the price varies depending on the number of zones you choose. I learnt that a travelcard provides zonal tickets which can be valid from one day to one year and that they are accepted on the DLR, buses, railways, trams and the Underground. There are no zones in London for buses, so one ticket or travel card is enough to travel any distance in the network. The ticket price remains the same, no matter how far you travel in London.

There was this plastic card that was used as a travel card called an Oyster card, which was given to me by my first host. Your credit and travel card information are stored electronically on the card. It can be used to pay individual fares or to carry various Travelcards and bus passes. It is used by holding the card close to a yellow card reader or touching it flat. I malocated at the way the gate would open and let me through at the ticket gates whenever I would feed my Oyster onto a Card reader. There was no need for a paper ticket. From one week onwards, using an Oyster Card is much cheaper than buying tickets daily. You can use pre-pay and 'top up' your Oyster card in the same way as a mobile phone. Credit is added to the Oyster card, and it is deducted each time you travel. This represents very good value for money compared to buying a daily paper ticket and is ideal for people making occasional journeys per week or month.

Oyster cards cannot be used on some Overground routes in London. No wonder I lost my card during one of my Overground trips on the day before I left London, as I was trying to put it back into my handbag and use a Travelcard instead. I felt so bad because my first host’s wife had put some money on it and had asked me to post it back to her from Heathrow since they received many visitors who might use whatever fare I had left on it. I cried when I realised I had lost it, yet I had even put bus passes for a whole week on it. My friend had to use her money to pay for my fare. I got to use a coach from Victoria Coach Station to Heathrow. Coaches are like our upcountry buses, but more organised.

Years later, I actually found that Oyster card! I reached out to my host to let him know, and he simply joked that I could use it the next time I was in London.

P.S. Just a quick note about the date on this post! While it shows as published today, July 6, 2025, it is an old post that I wrote in April 2009, which I have now pulled out of my drafts.

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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 studying Literature, English, and Journalism. It has been done so that I can barely focus on reading a single page. My daily routine has been to spend most of my free time on social media. One and a half hours on YouTube punctuated by quick checks of Instagram, X, and Facebook. The constant beeps from notifications keep me checking my phone or laptop every other second to read the information that someone has shared or find out what is trending.

This constant need to check my phone or laptop has affected my academic performance. Social media has an impact on both reading and writing skills. This reduces literacy among young people. A recent study by Associate Professor Leonie Rutherford suggests that younger readers find it hard to get suitable books to read. This has led to a decline in reading. A survey of 350 teachers reveals that 89% believe that social media has hurt the reading habits of students. As a mature adult, these findings combined with my reading comprehension struggles show that reading is on the decline in the digital age. According to an article by Tutor Doctor, the major contributors are shortened attention spans, increased distractions, and instant gratification from digital media.

Furthermore, the rise of digital communication has had a profound impact on writing skills. As a Gen X and a journalism, literature, and English student, this is a serious problem for me. Writing is my hobby, but lately, social media is slowly killing my love for it. The fear of missing out (FOMO) is causing me to constantly check X for updates while my academic reading suffers. My struggle to handwrite resonates with a 2012 study highlighted by CNN in 2013. This study found that 33% of people struggled to read their handwriting. As if that was not enough, there was a decline in cursive writing. The decrease in handwriting skills and cursive writing was directly linked to the rise of digital communication. Nicholas Cronquist, a young professional featured in the CNN article, observed that his reliance on technology significantly impacted his handwriting, thus making it difficult and even painful to write by hand. In a recent study from the University of Stavanger, it was found that around 40% of Gen Zs are losing their grip on handwritten communication. This mirrors my struggles with handwriting. This decline, as highlighted in the article, is attributed to the increasing dominance of digital communication platforms that give priority to speed and brevity over thoughtful expression.

The impact is undeniable. I have forgotten how to hold a pen and write fast. I used to burn midnight candles reading fat novels, but these days even short stories are a struggle for me to read. During exams, I deliberately avoided numbers which I felt too lazy to attempt because I did not want to ‘overthink.’

It is not easy to break free from this problem. I plan on digital detoxing by reducing my screen time, doing more handwriting, and spending more time reading books. If it means visiting the library more often, I will do so instead of waiting to do so during the examination season. Attending the Kampala Writes LitFest at the Onomo Hotel on December 7 and 8, 2024, was a turning point for me. Seeing the authors, poets, readers, and artists who came to celebrate Ugandan literature reignited my love for the written word. This experience served as a powerful reminder of the importance of connecting with the written word and the vibrant literary community. I am determined to overcome the challenges posed by social media and cultivate a deeper appreciation for reading and writing.

References

Casey, M. (2013, July 28). Has technology ruined handwriting? | CNN business. CNN.

https://edition.cnn.com/2013/07/26/tech/web/impact-technology-handwriting/index.html

 

Janine. (2025, January 22). Impact of digital media on children’s reading habits. Tutor

Doctor. https://tutordoctor.com.au/blog/impact-of-digital-media-on-childrens-reading-habits/#:~:text=Shortened%20Attention%20Spans&text=Social%20media%20platforms%20and%20video,or%20even%20full%2Dlength%20articles.

 

Rena, Tomas, DoBetter, Rick, Richard, E, Jazmine, Taylor, G., Trice, Pat, J., Mayanja, N. A., Tessa,                   Amy, Patton, M., Apurv, Michael, J., Mileski, P., Mike, Hawk, J. T., …    Leteane, M. (2025,                   January 21). Generation Z is losing a skill we’ve had for 5,500 years: 40% are losing mastery of            communication. Indian Defence Review.  https://indiandefencereview.com/generation-z-is-                      losing-a-skill-weve-had-for-5500-years-40-are-losing-mastery-of-communication/

 

 

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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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