Musings of a Timid observer

I'm now in week 4 of P90X and I must say I'm very proud of the fact that exercise has now become such a regimented part of my day that I find myself having to wake up earlier just to do it. Also, it's a Monday and according to my schedule, this is chest and arms day. I love this day because after the work out, there's what I like to call the Post work out pump where you're muscles look way bigger because of all the resistance and pump build up. Vanity thy name is Anthony. However, week 4 has begun and it's cardio and rest week from all the heavy lifting and grunt work of pushups and ab rippers(which is the worst thing ever. seriously, didn't god include it in the curses he was dishing out to Adam Eve and that poor snake?). This means it's going to be all about yoga, kenpo X, cardio x , core strengthening and stretching. Imagine my excitement. This stuff just doesn't give me motivation. It's slower, more aimed at stretching your muscles, incre

Of the many memories I have of high school, one that I recall very vividly involves me talking to one of the coolest girls in school. You know the one with the fading British accent that had transferred to the school because her rich father was no working in Uganda. She was walking slightly behind me as we left the dining hall and I was on top form making a round of jokes that were hitting the mark. I was Eddie Murphy, I was Bill Murray, I was Pablo from that first season of Uganda Stand up comedy or whatever. As luck would have it, and mine is usually of the bad variety, the subject of our discussion somehow ended up on what we found attractive at which point, she smacked my butt lightly and said, "You have no ass man. I need a dude to have some meat". For a skinny guy, the reminder that you are in fact rail thin is not something you take lightly, because at 17 all you want is to look like Wesley Snipes-body not face, Sorry Wesley- and not be reminded about that pole you see

It's no secret. I'm not a fan of inspirational messages, or at least those that self advertise as inspirational messages. It strikes me as being quite self involved especially when what follows is some vague, feel good collection of words which really any person that's seen a few sunsets really already knows. I do however  know the importance of having a good word in season, of words beautifully crafted to express thoughts on love and community and all that good stuff. Something that will uplift your spirits and make you decide not to just to say to hell with it and spend the rest of your days in a bathrobe watching tv all day-Which is highly satisfying till you look in the mirror and immediately loathe the creature you see before you. I also think that being pragmatic doesn't mean that you can't have hopes  and desires, just that said wishes be grounded in reality so as not to allow you to fly off spouting all kinds of gibberish. You know the type. The fa

"Okay man. I'll make you a deal. I'll look at that book, what is it?Mere Christianity. But you have to read this book, "Letter to a Christian Nation". And I mean really read it not just highlight areas where you can attack or anything. sound fair?". He extended his hand out to me. I take his hand in mine and at some few minutes past 11 pm on a Wednesday night, a huge turn in my life of faith had been made and I barely registered it.  My room mate was a pretty cool guy by all accounts. Never had too many parties and looked out for me [I was pretty much fresh from Africa and living in Louisiana and it was a bit much], let me use his bar bells now and then, introduced me to a few people and most of all, put on a display of womanizing that seriously deserves a medal. How the Nobel people recognized his talent and contribution to literary creativity and the ability to construct tales that had women fooled for the longest time beyond me.  Besides h

  In a six part series, I hope to share in a nutshell the de conversion of a young man and hopefully it will serve a two fold purpose of sharing the struggles and the joys of being who you are and sharing your thoughts with no shame and also to give any who may have queries or questions some much needed reason to ask even more questions ;-) In my A level, I finally made the decision to make Jesus Christ Lord of my life. I had done it once before when I'd joined Kings College Budo in senior one-However , that was because I wanted to have super powers like the Bible promised. The power to heal the sick, drink poison and not be hurt. suffice to say, I joined for all the wrong reasons. I guess it's because I'd grown up not really going to church with my only experience of literal bible reading being my maternal grandmother's emphasis on reading it to us before bed. But come A level, I had decided to take Psalm 34.8 to task and "taste and see that the Lord is good&

“Madam, there’s a man here to see you”.  The words cut into me like a knife through butter on a hot July day. “There’s a man here to see you”!  Suffice to say that I am not yet comfortable with being referred to as that man. I answer to dude, guy, fella, and sweet lips (I have very interesting weekends!) But man is for a guy with a mortgage and a drinking problem that he is in denial about. I’m at the stage of life where many of the people I started school with are starting to get married or move out of the country for work. Major life decisions are being made and not being one to be left behind, I’m making my own moves. I look in the mirror and I see an adult. I see whiskers that need trimming, I no longer get asked for ID at bars and I actually get paid for my services. My parents lean on me to handle my younger siblings and I now get a say in many ways in which family business will be handled. I’m handling my business. So why does it throw me off every time I’m referred to as

“Madam, there’s a man here to see you”.  The words cut into me like a knife through butter on a hot July day. “There’s a man here to see you”!  Suffice to say that I am not yet comfortable with being referred to as that man. I answer to dude, guy, fella, and sweet lips (I have very interesting weekends!) But man is for a guy with a mortgage and a drinking problem that he is in denial about. I’m at the stage of life where many of the people I started school with are starting to get married or move out of the country for work. Major life decisions are being made and not being one to be left behind, I’m making my own moves. I look in the mirror and I see an adult. I see whiskers that need trimming, I no longer get asked for ID at bars and I actually get paid for my services. My parents lean on me to handle my younger siblings and I now get a say in many ways in which family business will be handled. I’m handling my business. So why does it throw me off every time I’m referred to as

 UG@50: Of failing flags and cognitive dissonance. In thinking about this past Independence Day, and in response to a great blog post by the lovely Lynn Turyatemba - http://lynntu.blogspot.com/2012/10/independence-my-countrys-mine.html?spref=fb , I find  I’m unusually optimistic for us. It’s not over the top, but a salient feeling of "We’re going somewhere.", however awkwardly and lethargically and with a vague idea of the destination. I was afraid for a second there that I was ambivalent, somehow  anesthetized  against  caring about this nation attaining self reliance and glory all it's own because all it seems to bring is continual heart ache. With every headline about corrupt officials stealing billions right above teachers demanding for a living wage, the hope took a punch to the gut. For every moment of hope like the fact that we have a freaking Kampala carnival at last, we awake to hear another mysterious fire has razed a cultural site or a 10 minute downpo

Warts and all-A look at the sides of me that I'd rather not see : Part 1-The hilarious story meltdown When you're in the middle of telling your hilarious story and you realize that your audience is beginning to look as excited as they'd be  watching paint dry and pre-punchline giggles aren't forthcoming;  It's at this point that you : a) Cook up a few embellishments and re-writes in an effort to make the story funnier(Very bad idea) b) Just bulldoze your way to the end of the story and then awkwardly mumble something about having to leave, then go weep in the corridor C)_Just tell everyone you're an alcoholic. All will be forgiven I usually would say it's best to just face up and endure the awkwardness like a pro but waahhh, I'm a tough guy. I am descended from tough men, My grandfather once fought a cow. Read that sentence again. He fought a cow and lived to speak of it. I am sure that the gene for bravery in times of bovine aggression can be use