Sorry I have been out of the blogosphere (shady word) for a while, but i got knocked down by a car.
So I am returning from a late night sojourn at a friend’s place at around 11:30pm on Sunday night. Sundays are normally quiet but this is a particularly a serene evening. I am on a motorbike, here called Boda Boda whizzing through town. As I approach the last turn before I get into my neighbourhood, right at the Wandegeya roundabout- famous for having no roundabout or functional streetlights the rider tries to turn into the opposite lane. Suddenly there were lights bearing down on us with ferocious speed. I had an instant to say: “Hey dude look out for the car!!” before we were smashed and thrown into the road on which I was strewn in utter bamboozle(ment).
In the instant that all this is happening I feel the car tires screech to a halt and the bike go under the taxi (read matatu) and the crunch of rubber against steel as the bike is chewed up by the vehicle screeching to a halt. I honestly cannot say how I got there but I was standing away from the accident a few seconds after it happened.
And just as the vultures (read lumpens/hoodlums/vandals/scum-sucking imbeciles all rolled in to one) set in to scavenge the accident and anything it might have brought in (some blasted idiot left with my school note book!!- can you believe!) I was hit a wave of nausea. These guys were the kind that would knock you out at an accident scene just to be sure that they robbed a dead guy, you know.
I was feeling numb so I immediately call the venue of my last sojourn and inform them of my detour in travel plans. I promptly inform them of the feeling that I think I might be dead and as such could they arrange to see me just to be sure that I am alive.
I am now alive and fully well thanks to the powers that be and my O-ve blood.(its just super!!)
Which reminds me of a thought I was just pondering; how poor jewel dealers in Uganda are…
I mean like gold jewellers. Uganda must be the only country in the world where jewellers are poor. This thought was provoked by a shady calendar I saw in an office somewhere that had really plain pages and a picture of an Indian woman on it. So I am asking myself how does an Indian jeweler market jewellery made in China adorned on an indian woman designed on a paper printed at the cheapest place on Nasser road(a place where I hear you can anything made; even the ancient sea scrolls- if you can pay) to a Ugandan who pays with money printed in Europe without giving the impression that the Ugandan is inferior?
While everywhere across the world jewellers go on holidays and are always travelling to attend conventions or just to plain re-stock their stores in Uganda they just sit and sit and when they are tired they sit some more because the Ugandan has the art of jewellery almost down to a tee.
They have “Gold” for special occassions and then they have ‘gold’ for Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday…. The idea is that the you cant know which the real gold is. Is it the one that can stand the wear and tear of the mad house called Kampala and the fake for the special occassions because it shines so much? Or is it the other way around because the fake can fade and no one will know?hhhhmm….. My thoughts took this turn for a while and I was pretty convinced I was right.
I muse over this and in this state I asked a woman of considerable repute to enlighten me on matters in this regard and this was her response:
“You buy two pieces of fake gold and wear one more often than the other, that way you are always shining!” This Ingenious woman of kampala added, “That way we can all avoid wearing real gold. Its much cheaper”
Together, For the World…And Beyond