HOW I LEARNT NEVER TO HANG ON TRUCKS
One evening, we were coming from the shops at around 8:00pm. We had been sent to buy paraffin in a small plastic bottle. Then there came a truck; one of those which used to ferry sand from our village. It was a great chance for a free ride. My elder brother and I grabbed it and hang on it from behind.
Soon, we reach our home. My brother jumped off. I too tried to jump off. I put my fit on the ground and let go but the truck kept pulling me. I was running on my toes like a criminal being pulled by a Local Defense Unit (LDU).
“Yeeko, jump off” shouted my brother who thought I was not paying attention. “My trousers are stuck in the truck door” I desperately responded to my brother who was now running behind me as the truck pulled me.
My brother ran behind me as he begged me to pull my trousers hard so that they get out of the truck door where they were stuck. I tried all I could but in van. For over a mile, I was running behind the truck on my toes as my brother ran after me; giving all sorts of courage to pull myself off the truck. My heart raced. I thought the track was going to take me to where no one knows. I regretted having jumped on it.
Finally, the sand truck reached the tarmac road. It slowed down and then stopped for the driver to check on traffic before joining the main road. It was the best moment for my brother to save me. He grabbed my trousers and pulled them with all his might. And that’s how he separated me from the truck.
My trousers had torn from the middle to the bottom. I swore never to hang on trucks again
A Sheep Can’t Be A Chef In The Lion’s Kitchen
One afternoon, the goat was chosen to serve the lion king. On opening what he was about to put on the king’s table, he realized it was his wife’s head. The goat cried out loud and lamented “Dear king, why my wife?” But before he finished the statement, the sheep who was the king’s chef gave him a hot slap. “Shut up, don’t you know that whatever is in this kingdom belongs to the king?” the sheep shouted at the crying goat. “Serve him with a smile!” the sheep commanded the goat.
The poor old goat smiled with teary eyes as he powerlessly handed over his wife’s head to the lion king to munch for his lunch.
He wished he was strong enough to kill the lion king and also punish the sheep. The goat felt betrayed by the sheep with whom they had been friends since childhood.
The teary goat followed the sheep back to the kitchen. “You hypocrite, why didn’t you warn me that the lion was planning to eat my wife? If you couldn’t fight for us or warn us, then who will fight for you when the lion king turns against you?”
“Hahaha! There is no way the king can eat me; his own beloved chef – not even my family” boasted the sheep as he scornfully looked at the goat. “Much as you serve the lion, you will never be one of them” the goat warned the sheep. “In fact, you are just another piece of meat waiting for your turn to be on his menu” the goat angrily added as he stormed out of the kitchen.
Shortly, the lion king was done with his lunch and it was time to have a dessert. He never waited to be served as always. Instead, he slowly tiptoed and grabbed the little lamb that had been playing around the palace serving table since morning. The sheep who was the chef had come with that lamb; his last born son to see around the palace for the first time.
On hearing a very loud cry of his baby, the sheep dashed out of the kitchen to find out what was happening. To his shock, his little baby was hanging lifelessly in the jaws of the lion king.
The sheep broke down in tears but before he made a loud cry for his now dead son, the goat held his mouth shut. “Don’t forget, you said that whatever is in this kingdom belongs to the king. It’s your turn to smile. Please go and set the table for the king to have his dessert.” The goat whispered to the teary sheep.
“Indeed, you were right. We are all moving meat for the lion. A sheep cannot be a chef in the lion’s kitchen” concluded the sheep as he slowly moved backwards not to be seen by the lion king.
“We need to stand up against the lion before we get to his menu” the sheep suggested.
“No, there is no way a sheep and a goat can fight a lion” advised the goat. “However, if you can’t defeat them, don’t join them to torment others” added the goat as he pulled away the sheep to escape from the lion’s palace. They swore never to return.
A Sack Of The Precious Muwogo
At dawn, Nkalu tiptoed out of his house. As soon as he closed the door, he ran to the pit latrine at lightning speed.
His wife who had been watching him for a while stealthily followed him. She had noticed how Nkalu had been uneasy the whole night. She suspected something fishy was going on.
“Why did you take long to come? Nkalu’s wife heard a whispering voice ask her husband. That’s when she noticed there was another person in the pit latrine. She tried to peep through the crack in the old latrine door but she could not easily see the other person who was whispering to Nkalu.
“Did your wife see you coming here?” the fellow whispered to Nkalu again. “No, she didn’t. She was dead asleep. Just bend over. We need to do this fast before she wakes up” Nkalu responded. “Okay, but do it slowly as always. My back is not all that strong” the other fellow begged Nkalu.
“I can’t let this happen under my nose. Nkalu will learn a lesson from me today” Nkalu’s wife thought to herself as she ran back to the house to pick a panga.
“I will cut off Nkalu’s head and kill that shameless woman with who is not even ashamed of having sex in a smelly pit latrine” Nkalu’s wife assured herself as she approached the pit latrine with her panga.
In anguish, she mercilessly hit the old latrine door and it fell open. Only to find Nkalu slowly and carefully putting a sack of the precious muwongo on Luka – his best friend’s back; the one with whom they always stole and hit their loot in the pit latrine
THE PROTECTOR IN MY MOTHER.
During my senior one, I used to ride a bicycle from Bupadhengo to Buwenge – Shamti High School (no longer exists). Every morning, we would ride in big groups of adolescents from various villages.
However, I had a constant problem along the way. A problem which always made blood boil within my veins every time I reached the next village (Buwolero) after ours. There was a big grown up school dropout who enjoyed bullying me. Kasawo was his name. He would always grab my bicycle and push it into the bush. And that made him so happy to the extent that he would often wait for me in the morning.
Since their home was on a hill, there was no way I could speed past him. Instead, I could reach him while pushing the bicycle past the hill. All I could do is to either ride in a group or bear the humiliation from Kasawo the bully every time I was alone.
Kasawo’s reason for punishing me every morning was very clear. Their father had another piece of land; just next to ours in our village.
One day, years ago when I was in P.6, Kasawo and his young brothers (who happen to be my OBs) came to check on their father’s land and he found out that one of their sweet bananas got ripe atop the banana stem. However, as good neighbours, we had eaten it. You know that it’s not right to let food go to waste. So, there was no way we could let ripe sweet bananas rot on top of the banana stem; something which would have attracted a curse on us. So, we ate it to save ourselves from the danger of an evil curse. And that was the accusation which Kasawo always used to torment me every morning while in S.1.
I used to wonder why he had to wait for two years to punish me for the case I committed while I was in P.6. Being an S.1 student, I felt I deserved some good level of respect.
One day, I got tired and couldn’t take Kasawo’s shit anymore. So, I narrated the whole ordeal to my mother. She promised to escort me to school the following morning. At that moment, I knew Kasawo was finished. He was going to curse the day he was born because I had a one woman army equivalent to a battalion.
The following morning, I rode my mother on a bicycle like she was going to study with me. She really wanted to see the Kasawo I had told her about.
When we reached a few metres to the home of the bully, my mother told me to push my bicycle ahead of her. She was a few metres behind me and watching closely, the way a tigress watches over its cubs. I made sure I was alone so that Kasawo wouldn’t hesitate to do his thing.
This time, I pushed my bicycle even slower than usual. I even rung my bicycle bell to the loudest volume.
The foolish Kasawo didn’t even think of why I was slowly pushing my bicycle with unusual confidence. Without any thought, he grabbed my bicycle and wanted to push it. This time, I held it tightly and looked him in the eyes in silence like I was ready for a fight.
Shortly, my mother grabbed him from behind by the belt – the way police officers grab criminals and make them walk on their toes. The old woman; my other alarmed at the top of her voice. One would think she was screaming for rescue from robbers in the dead of the night. “Nendha onkobere omwana wange kyeyakulyaku nkikuwe leero luno” (Tell me anything of yours which my son ate so that I give it to you today), my mother kept shouting as she alarmed over and over.
Passersby and residents from the nearby homes and gardens gathered to find out what was happening.
Kasawo looked powerless for the first time. He could neither run away nor explain why he always teases me on the way to school. He knelt down and claimed never to have disturbed me. He even claimed to be my friend. “We were just playing” Kasawo lied. He made a verbal promise never to touch my mother’s son again.
And that’s how my mother protected and saved me from being bullied by Kasawo. After that incidence, I would smile past Kasawo the bully every morning without any fear.