My Love For Radio

I have a renewed passion for listening to radio since it dawned on me that it’s much cheaper than paying 240k to watch repeats of Top Gear, Diners, Drive in’s and Dives, and Dragon’s Den on DStv.

As I type, I am at the Chinese restaurant and on BBC Knowledge, Top Gear is up next. Hmm, it’s a two-year-old repeat but I watch it anyway because it’s the episode where Clarkson in a Range Rover Sport, took on a challenger tank.

Listening to BBC World Service recently they had a harrowing story from Pakistan. Peasant had drowned his one-and-a-half month old child because it was a girl and he had wanted a boy.

The BBC had managed to get an interview with Peasant and in his defence, he said: “I had no idea what I was doing. I don’t know what overcame me”. Oh please Peasant! You DID know what you were doing and you DID know that you were killing her!

The tragic thing about this case is that in Pakistan and other parts of the Indian sub-continent, doing away with babies because they are born girls is no big deal and Peasant will probably get away with it.

There was a debate on Sanyu FM when I woke that morning between the lawyer David Mpanga and Henry Rugamba, UMEME’s communications supremo. Mpanga was not amused that UMEME had threatened to disconnect him off if he did not switch Yaka.

Mpanga is clever, a Muganda, which I am not and will one day probably be appointed Katikiro of which I have no chance of becoming because I am not a Muganda. Rugamba whom I have known since his BAT days, is equally as smart and like I, he too has no chance of being appointed Katikiro because he is not a Muganda.

As I listened, there was a need to contribute to the debate seeing the phone was laden with airtime.

But when presenter Seanice Kacungira reads out the station’s phone numbers, she does so at a terrifying speed that one has to listen carefully as she hurtles the figures out.

I called and on the second ring, it’s answered. But there was a BUT as there always is with phone in’s. Instead of getting a chirpy ‘hello’ in a flossy Seanice accent, I got a ‘a-lloo’ in what sounded like a Mawokota South accent which made me to wonder if Amelia Kyambadde, who is MP for that area, sounds like that when she’s on the phone. I must call her and find out.

An ‘a-lloo’ instead of a chirpy ‘hello’ should have instantly told me something was amiss and that I ought to hang up but, I persisted and this is how the conversation panned out.

TB: “Morning Seanice, I have a question for Henry.”

WOMAN: “A-lloo, gw’ani?” (hello, who are you?)

TB: “Is that you Seanice?”

WOMAN:”Martin-eee waliwo omuzungu ku ssimu” (Martin, there’s a white person on the phone).

Meanwhile in the background there is some commotion - what sounded like the sigiri being knocked over and the saucepan of boiling porridge scalding a toddler who let out a hair standing shriek.

Martin or rather Martin-eee, came on the phone demanding to know who was calling. I hung up.

Two minutes later, the phone vibrates and I answer. The voice on the other end says I called his phone. It’s Martin. Rather than admit, I deny so he hurls tons of abuse at me.

By the time I got the correct numbers to the station, the debate is over. Mpanga and Rugamba were saying their goodbyes while Seanice is harping on about Fat Boy being on leave. And I did try calling Kyambadde but she didn’t pick up.