Showing posts from 2018

Futile Quibbling

You don't have to worry yourself about nothing
For fruitless concern is a barren dry gully well
We groan, wail and chant into bloody exhaustion
and only attract bored mockful chuckles
'the people' are busy and only accessible for foreplay bothers
Others have had their hands shredded and made to croon while at it
It is refreshing to party on borrowed time

You don't have to hardly think about nothing
For you are not the first to fall prey to a con
Beguiled, you naively gyrated, planned weddings and
discarded your loincloths to surrender it all
in response to their dalliance intended flirts
The 'reps' were just teasing you
So....we'll blame your gullibility

You don't have to talk about nothing
for speech is as futile a chore as collecting noon bathwater
in a sisal-woven basket
You'll discuss, sing, moderate, debate and attempt to sculpt 'the ideal'
even bathe in virulent dollars to host talks and symposiums
Frown and wail not when these ticklis…

Copyright, neighbouring rights and art in the Ugandan perspective

News of the tragic death of Ugandan star Moses Sekibogo (Mozey Radio) that February morning found me scrolling through an online David and Goliath tale of a young lad who had embarked on a legal battle against a giant broadcaster. He alleged that his TV show treatment proposal had been stolen when he submitted it in hopes of employment. Imagine his alarm on seeing the station that had promised to get back to him premiering a ‘new show’ bearing his concept under a totally different name with a celebrity host. He is just one of hundreds of creative people who get their intellectual property stolen to enrich others. The deficiency of aggressive copyright jurisprudence has continued to stand between the royalties and revenue that the estate of this young singer would have been earned and the sad reality that without concerts, the financial future seemed bleak. American superstars Michael Jackson and Whitney Houston were able to posthumously pay off all the immense debt they were in at the…

Cryptocurrency Exit Scams; Red Flags You Should Look Out For.

There is a growing mix of excitement and anxiety over the emergence and growth of cryptocurrency popularity in different countries around the world. Uganda is no exception. The internet and press is awash with stories of individuals who have mined and reaped big from the trade enough to lure new investors to this ‘digital revolution’. However, the same media is filled with tales of other less fortunate investors who have lost their money in ‘exit scams’. A number of questions and concerns have arisen out of the complex nature of cryptocurrency. How does one protect themselves from falling victim to fraudulent exit scams? Is there a way to spot an exit scam from a genuine cryptocurrency trade?Is it legal and crucially…with no central regulatory authority how are exit scam victims remedied? This article focuses on exit scams in cryptocurrency and how one can spot one and protect their money from fraudsters.
What is a cryptocurrency? A cryptocurrency is a digital or virtual currency that u…

Oil and Water

By day, the sharp streaks of scorching sun
deeply slice through our skins-but not our souls
folks hiss and slither side by side
Yet glide after stride,blow after hug
Sinner stands apart from saint,
black flows sharp  from white
and the righteous condemn and curse the damned

With the long awaited relieving cover of dusk,
the comfortable blanket of night
spreads in its path an odd honest spell of lycanthropy
A metamorphosis of white and black
into familiar  cocktails of grey
We juggle and vanish our halos for fitting crowns of thorns
At that holy moment, there is no need to decant
For oil and water seep separately no more

George W Kiwanuka


The fear of death is obstructively futile That cold numb night as you lay bleeding in the ICU, gasping for breath Feeling lighter and lighter - almost floating As the monitor beeps, you see a faint image of your kinsfolk Staring, embracing – hugging tightly In the absence of the proverbial gentle breeze, Their sobs and wails concern you not For its pointless to brood over what might have been
You ponder about your pilot to the ‘other side’ Is it Walumbe[1]who has wrung the life out of you? Or a sword bearing angel of death atop a dark horse Do you traverse a tunnel at whose end a light awaits? Or stride into an initiation fete with ancestors to await appeasement as an ancestral spirit Honoured with spilled drinks[2] and consulted by descendants for counsel Have you earned the right to eternal rest? Or will you unhappily roam and haunt the earth settling old scores? Occasionally creeping from your dark grave to Venture onto streets as a sheep or cat
Perhaps Eucharist Confirmation class got it right As a …

KAKALABANDA...By George W Kiwanuka

In the deceptively quiet backdrop of intense winds, falling rustling leaves
You clutched your rosaries and  bibles in grim silent fear
'Shut your Eyes' 'Don't peek or speak'-divinely echoed internally
The clack sound of bone and wood against the dorm floor availed your cue
You repented and said a silent earnest prayer for instant sleep
Recalling Muwanga's horrid prescient natter
Earlier in the bright sunny secure blanket of day

The uninvited terror thirsty night guests - ghastly apparitions
carried with them slappy treats for the naughty boys
and much too often made off with their valuables to the obscure world beyond
Woe unto he whose curiosity tricked him into opening his eyes,
Legend had it that Kakalabanda liked such rebels most
and often carried them away never to be seen again.


*Kakalabanda is a popular urban myth in Ugandan traditional boarding schools. It was the name given to a ghost which allegedly visited dormitories at night to disc…

Message in a George W Kiwanuka

I am going to wring you a heartfelt ballad on a dry old note
and cage it in a dimming glass bottle
I'll pour out my unfeigned hopes and fiery desires
Toss and set it adrift the lake
I'll hope that you dig in, inhale and partake of
the thousand dreams and memories imprisoned in the fading glass dungeon

I am irresolute with feelings a thousand feet tall
thwarted by open sores from spewing and affirming them
So I'll lay back and envisage you...your thin brown fingers
cracking open the bottle
bathing in the liberated plaudits and sunbaked laments of my soul

I'll send you a message in a bottle,
and...wait for you to come  rescue me,
For I am marooned on a defeatist desert island
Gloomed and smothered by ambivalence
without a ship in sight


A Noose of Gold by George W Kiwanuka

Today, in the oblivion of night, I will knit you a golden noose
to match the golden chalice from which you've supped and
inebriated yourself with our blood whilst we bow

It will be perfumed and laced  with a ritzy fragrance
kissed and wrapped in Egyptian cotton
to suit your opulent lofty relish

The noose shall be woven with expensive thread from Spain
and infused with a bit of arm and leg, embroidered with your initials
Cleaned and dusted daily so it does not crease

Lest we forget, we will dye it with what's left of our blood
only it will not matter...we will not remember
So long as the noose is a tight fit for your fine neck.

George W Kiwanuka