Tuesday, September 10, 2013

The Queen Best, Sylvia Nagginda Royal Spat


There is nothing like a spat and a public spat at that. Barack Obama recently let rip on Vladimir Putin calling him: ‘that naughty boy who sits at the back of the class’.

Closer to home, Prime Minister Amama Mbabazi and Speaker of the House, Rebecca Kadaga locked horns in a spat of words.

It’s been a while since I last had a spat and if I had one with - Lillian Barenzi, Ernest Bazanye, Mildred Apenyo and Kizito who are columnists on this double spread this, is how it would pan out. Barenzi would trump Apenyo but only in a war of words and icy stares while in a full blown fist melee, Apenyo would have Barenzi running to Bangalore in India seeking refuge.

I would take on Bazanye and though he has a way with complicated words, one thing about him is that as soon as he takes off his glasses, he’s as blind as a bat - unable to find his desk even if a naked Beyonce and Kelly Rowland were gyrating on it.

That leaves Kizito who ain’t got no bite for if you read his column, it’s obvious who wears the decision making underwear in his household and that is Laura.

Spats are not limited to presidents or prime ministers. Even royals spat like they did last week in Munyonyo. Royal egos came out. Their aides puffed and exchanged not-so-kind words and UNDP who sponsored the event, were amused.

Who were these royals? Not wanting to be barred from their households, you have to read between the lines to figure out who I am talking about. Let me make it ‘difficult’ for you and call them – hmm, let me see. I think Queen BK and Queen SN works.

Like it’s said, there can only be one bull in the kraal and despite there being a number of queens and royalty not only from Uganda but the rest of Africa, there was only going to be one queen ruling the roost in Munyonyo.

But the question we who were there wanted to know, is who had the claws, the icy Barenzi stare and Apenyo’s Acholi wrath that makes grown men pee in their pants when they dare take her on?

One thing about our queens was their ability to pretend to look relaxed, to talk without moving their vexed lips, to gloss over the icy stares while concealing their ‘machetes’ behind their backs as they ‘talked’ to each other.

Their beef so UNDP Staffer whispered to me is that they both wanted to take the kudos as being the masterminds of the conference – that it was THEIR initiative and only called the other to help out.

As the UN stood by, somebody else sniffed the storm and intervened. Let me ‘disguise’ his identity and call him M7.

When it was time to go, M7 took over the direction of his convoy. He frantically waved his arm at a dilly-dallying driver to bring up the Toyota Cygnus. As Driver continued to dilly-dally, a baffled and getting irritated M7 stood in the middle of the road - perhaps wondering if Driver knew what he was doing.

When the Cygnus eventually rolled to a halt, the two icy faced queens were bundled into it and off they were driven.

At the end of it all, I didn’t get to know which queen triumphed and had wiped the other queens face in the saucepan of leftover byenda (entrails).

Do you think it wise that I send mail to their offices to find out? Should I call that man - M7, who intervened and ask him?

I feel I am pushing my luck a trifle too far so I’ll let it be.

The Perv Boss - Every Woman's Nightmare!

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