Kanyindo's Random Ramblings

Over the weekend, I watched the 80s classic Pretty Woman.  Basic plot- frustrated rich man takes a drive on Hollywood Boulevard, picks up hot streetwise prostitute and takes her back to his hotel.  She lives there for about a week, he takes her clothes-shopping so that he can introduce her to his rich friends, she fights the fact that she is falling for him, they argue because she feels he has treated her like a hooker (duh), she leaves, he realizes he is in love with her, goes to her grotty apartment in his limousine, rescues her from a life on her back and they live happily ever after. It’s a great film, don’t get me wrong.  But just how realistic is it?  In a Ugandan setting? Picture this: frustrated Ugandan business man drives to Kabalagala in the wee hours of the morning.  Spots a relatively decent-looking prostitute, picks her up and takes her to his hotel (NOT lodge, please note).  The next day, she is ready to pick her dime and flee the scene, but he tells her to s

It has often been said that Uganda has some of the most beautiful women. I’m not agreeing with this sentiment simply because I happen to be a Ugandan woman.  Sometimes I look at the plethora of beauties in this country and feel blessed to be among her daughters. I do, however, have one major problem with my Ugandan sisters. And that is the way they walk. I hate to generalize but Ugandan women, for the most part, walk as if they have nowhere to go.  And it drives me INSANE. I had to go downtown last week to help a friend of mine with some shopping and it turned into an exercise in sheer frustration. We had parked on Kampala Road and walked down to Luwum Street.  I have no problem walking, and this seemed like the most reasonable option anyway. The first obstacle we encountered was a woman, walking and talking on her phone at the same time.  I couldn’t pick up everything she was saying, but it sounded like she was talking to a boyfriend or lover of sorts, bec

I performed at a beautiful wedding ceremony last weekend.  The music selected by the couple was gorgeous, as was the venue, the bride, the poems read… everything was on point.  I almost got carried away myself, until my feet started hurting, courtesy of my brand new 5 inch heels, and I was brought back to earth with a bump.  Thank goodness I didn’t have to spend the rest of the day smiling at everyone (like the beautiful bride did).  I could go home, collapse on my couch and have a glass of wine.  Oh, and take my shoes off. I bumped into an old family friend at the ceremony as I was trying to carry my equipment back to the car and flee the scene.  This elderly lady has been friends with my parents for years, and I was actually quite pleased to see her.  She asked after the family, after my work, and even mentioned that she had enjoyed reading some of my articles.  I was just about to extricate myself from her vice-like grip around my wrist when she mentioned that she had somet

Research has shown that most people who make New Year’s Resolutions rarely keep them beyond the month of May.  I fervently endeavor to better myself each year so was quite miffed when I read this, and last year made up my mind to see my resolutions through to December.  These included: 1.        Being less sarcastic 2.        Being nicer to people with bad personal hygiene (maybe they don’t have access to soap and water.  The fact that there are deos for every budget is neither here nor there) 3.        Accepting that Monday will come around, no matter how much I bitch and moan about it 4.        Sticking to my principles of punctuality and politeness, even though almost every other person I meet on the daily is determined to flout such conventions. Anyway, as I was drawing up my list of resolutions for 2014 and berating myself for not sticking to the previous one, it dawned on me that my failure to fulfill the list above was not entirely my fault.  Looking back, one p