Taxi conductor sir! I am attracted to you!

Lovely one I will not behave like Lawino, I will not tell the clans men now but I will warn you first. I will also not use crude language as Lawino did but I will use simple expressions to let you know that you mean the world to me. First is, I like the way you chip in at the right time, after a hard day’s work you are very sure that I must enter your taxi but still beg me to enter. Calling me all respectable names of madam, sister, mummy, miss to mention but a few. Yes! Finally am flattered and I get into the taxi. But beloved I have a complaint or two, when I enter you cease to appreciate my beauty so am not madam, miss, and mummy any more.


Sir, you stop trusting me completely and so you think I am just an opportunist who will simply take a ride in your filthy, congested taxi and go without paying. Least a trickstar shines in my bag I would never do that kind of thing. You may wonder why I am saying this but the way you ask for the fare just agitates me. Your seat is so strategic that I have to leave after recompensing what makes you think otherwise. But you are right, some people have wrong intentions. In my country people like free things, it is always the right time to let them know that your expensive and ghastly taxi is not a funded by United Nations. No it is not! Remind them that you are not Member of Parliament to dish out funds into your personal business.

Lovely one, your deodorant is too expensive every time I smell, trust me am enthused to love you more. The fact that you save a lot on water and you never mind about me is confusing me. Your scent reminds me of teenage boys in high school who compete upon achieving the DB award, (Dirtiest Boy’s Award.) They shower towards visitation days. The normal routine is showering may be once or twice a week. Am not saying you don’t shower sir, am saying you devote so much energy in your work and you forget yourself. Was God wrong to say that man shall eat out of his sweat? Because all your shirts are sweet smelling with sweat or should I say it right, kavubuka.


Honey, am believing God for a better diction than what you have. I have to do this myself because I don’t know God’s plan, today am attracted tomorrow you may be proposing. Your words are lovely pieces of the kind of literature Plato condemns. You know, they are soothing and when they fall on my weary brain membrane. They bounce back and when I analyse them I am amazed at how best you can describe yourself. When you call bankers, managers and other taxi users stupid, rude and proud. I feel you right because that is exactly who you are. My darling, you often forget to treat me right.

If I desist what I feel for you I will definitely hate you. I will buy my beautiful ride and when next you see me we shall be stuck in traffic jam and probably you will be begging me to move little faster so that you can get passengers ahead of me. Should you do anything silly my love; I will not hesitate to take you to the council of elders just like my idol Lawino.

Yours faithfully, the corporate.

WOMEN EMACIPATION; THE FEMALE TAXI CONDUCTOR

A medium sized, light skinned, casually dressed woman. Dressed in khaki tour shorts, a red loose fitting t-shirt, sneakers and the last detail I could pay attention to is the pair of small gold quoted ear pins. She calls me to the taxi already. “Mukwano jangu tugendde.”  Meaning let us go friend.  Ha! How could I not go, knowing that I needed an experience with a female conductor? I thrust myself into the taxi and before long we got going.

She continues to call in her tom boy style, “Wadegeya, Mulago, Kamwokya, Bukoto n’ eNtinda.” At every stop we made, the male brokers seemed to bother her while they asked her for some money. She kept asking them, “ngakweyanza ki” meaning, what will I be thanking you for? At every stop it is the driver who kept convincing her to give at least one of the brokers some money. At the look of things, she would not have given any those brokers money at her own peril. In fact the brokers kept lamenting about how mean ladies can be.

I noticed she does not let men bull her that easily. I also noticed she cared about female passengers more than the males. I overheard her say, “These men fool around if you treat them well unlike the women who will reciprocate the good treatment.” The other thing I noticed is once she says, “muziweleeze”, her word is final. You just see everyone digging deep into their pockets to give the madam her fare, quietly without even complaining, whether you have reached or about to reach or not even close to your destination. Oh! how I love to see corporates humbled. This was one of those opportunities. I actually wondered why this was so?  The lady was not tough, abusive, and arrogant or any of those bad things you can imagine of a taxi conductor but I mean she was feared.

I began to think about girls like those MUN-G describes in his song Kyaba Too Much. Doesn’t she get disgusted at the sight of such girls? I also thought she is a kind of lady; you will not simply walk to and begin telling her your fake stories of “I have no job”. I imagine she would just shatter your head into sizable pieces in dismay and assure as to why you that people are selective while look for jobs and that is why they have no jobs. To me that was a good example of attacking the reality bull by the horns. Applause to you female Taxi conductor!!

MY DAYS, MY MEMORIES

Back when I was a child,

All was well, all was fine

I craved for sweets, I craved for ice cream

I cried for tea, I cried for bread

As if I did not know they were purchased

I enjoyed playing in the soil

I did enjoy the dirt, all was food

I was great, we all thought we were

I sang, I did not care the payment of vocals

I did not lie, it was not necessary

All that is gone, all that is past

I will not say it is not well though it is not

I crave not for sweets anymore, I crave for survival

I crave not for ice cream today, I crave for a life

I do not cry for tea, not bread I know it is bought

Not with stones, not with a smile but with some coins

Now, I have to be smart and clean,

So I can gather a moss

The more it is the better

I cannot dine on earth any more

I save it for the mad

Great people are because they strive

They are because they toil and sweat

If you must sing, you should be a singer

Music heals the soul

I cannot speak like I spoke then

Many will lose me and none will lend me

Man hides in a mound of deceit

I KNOW WHEN IT SHINES

 With a clatter of tatter

I am amazed by the flutter

When I lack the butter

But I will cling to the later

The later,

Where I belong

The later is smarter

Oh yes, it is lovely

True, it is gone

And I am sad it is

I have no hand in this

May be for the better

Reality knows it is for the worse

Am lost of words

Only to describe my sadness

But I hope for a better day tomorrow

I don't know how

I honestly think it is lost

Lost completely

I need miracle

But I am hopeful,

That one day, the later will come again

That darkness will scrap off

Like dry algae off earth

I am hopeful oh yes I am

That gradually, the will rise

Amazingly like it does above two lovely hills

I know when it shines

Oh yes I know when it does

For sure, I saw the rain !

This water from the heavens that pounds the ground

It scents the earth and chills world

When this water falls

It muddles up with loam

and grips unto the boot   

Don’t dare it on foot

It sticks when the when the skin sucks

It makes the clouds of the day black

Dawn or dusk we can’t tell

But the day lopes

It clothes glass with mist

This cold thing is beautiful only while you spectate

It is memorable when you kiss while it drops

This; the expression of furry of God in the Noah’s days

Like a deer panteth for water so deserterians panteth for it

This water that falls from the heavens, I saw with own eyes.

THE OYSTER HAS NO PEARL

I have searched every where

I have dwelt in the dark just to catch my lottery

Leaned on invisibles to catch my imagination

Clasped on my energy to have products

Drenched my mind in dissatisfaction

So I can search for what my eyes won’t hold

My leaders have nothing else but a deaf ear

But worse still are the lead

They won’t let me utter

They are silent in psycho-torment

Because they will not let free their passion

They have depleted all my remedies

So they say the African child is dim-witted

I follow my master of the past decades

The whip is inevitable

Hunger sustains my body

Until I yield loss

From the efforts that I cast.

Where I live

My folks enjoy it
They dance to the tune of the melodious drums
Like they own an added slice of life
They vigorously dance
Like they had spare waists
Deforestation is no offense
Like they fear not drought
It is a remedy to inferiority
You never die of shame all your life
My brothers say
Its cowards who cry,
I have not convinced my sensory nerves
That I am no coward
It is the pain that makes a man
In the place where I hail
At the foot of the great mountain
Whose peak is Wagagai.
There, men sprout out of pain!