The Flats With A Wall For A View

Back in the day when I moved out of Parents crib, the instructions I melted out to House Broker were explicitly clear. It had to be a three bed-roomed house in a wall fence and somewhere between Muyenga and Munyonyo.

Hardly had I pulled up outside Sunday Vision than he called with news. Broker Friend knew of a house in Kansanga that he was going give the once over. Hmm, he need not have called until he had checked it out or perhaps he was trying to show me that he’s on the ball and intends to earn every cent of the 50k I had swung him for his services? Keep me appraised so I told him.

Twenty minutes later I pick up his call and he’s awfully energized. The house was indeed three bed-roomed, in a wall fence and less than 100 meters from the main road. He further added that I needed to hurry and view it because it was bound to be taken by the end of the day.

I heeded his urgency and half-an-hour later, I picked him up outside the gates of Kampala International University which, was a neat place to meet because I also got to eye up a couple of 'small brown things' as they headed to class. The house was just before Kansanga trading centre and true to his word, it was less than 100 meters from the main road. More importantly, the road on which the house sat had a fine layer of tarmac.

When the gates swung open, I expected to see a driveway down to the house. But what driveway? What I saw were garage gates. To get my ride past the gate, I had to drive straight into the garage because there was no parking yard. Inside, the kitchen could barely fit a fridge, cooker or a frying pan and the bedrooms were no bigger than the toilets on Emirates or KQ. Basically, it was a box with no garden and no soul.

Any need to guess what word I hurled at him once the thirty second tour of the house was done? Yes, you guessed it – tumbavu!

The second house he took me to days later, had the door handles upside down and another, the light switch in the master bedroom was not in the bedroom, but in the corridor! Needlessly to say, more tumbavu’s were readily unleashed.

A couple of days ago, Chap took me to see some flats on Salama Road, Munyonyo that he was marketing. As we drove, his spiel was about how each flat had a balcony with lake views, a supermarket and was less than two minutes drive from the main road.

Now this is where you wait for me to tell you there is a ‘but’. There is a ‘but’. Not a mere ‘but’, but a BUT! The only thing Chap got right is that they are off Salama Road. And from Salama Road to the flats was not a two minute drive as he stated, but a 15-minute drive up an almost impassable road. There was a supermarket nearby whose shelves were bare save for a couple of bags of Nomi washing powder, some Top Up tomato sauce, coffee and a plastic jar on the counter that contained ghastly coloured lollipops. Well, I assume they were lollipops.

Before I carry on, please send Housie to the shops for a muzinga of Uganda Wa because you are going to need it once you are done reading the next part. The flats did have balconies. But the views of Lake Victoria were only visible from a small port window in the bathroom because the actual view from the balcony was of a wall and built less than an inch from the balcony railing that blocked out the sunlight!

Now look at the picture above, is this what you call a flat that has a balcony with views of Lake Victoria? And the funny thing is that, all the flats are occupied. It seems some people are perfectly okay with sitting on their balconies and staring at the white paint washed walls. 

Since I viewed them, I make it a point of driving past every evening with a sledge hammer in the trunk of my ride and in the hope of finding Owner and more importantly Architect so that I can clobber their heads together with the aim of knocking some sense into them. 


Pictures: Timothy Bukumunhe, Internet                       

        

  

The Gift Scroungers

We all like gifts. And we like to be gifted. Back in the day when corporate companies were still splashing load of cash about, one thing that was certain is that whenever they had a function, at the end of it, you just had to walk away with a gift bag. They gave you everything from polo shirts, muzinga’s of JW, dairies, umbrellas to 4x4 tyre covers.

And whenever I attended one of those functions, people always made sure they caught the eyes of Usher because once the function came to a close, it would be Usher handing out the gift bags. She would remember you and set a bag aside for you. If you didn’t catch her eye as you walked in, she might say, “They are over.” 

Which, neatly brings me into the next phase of today’s ramble. I have always been miffed when I walk out of customs at Entebbe airport to find hoards of people waiting for just one person. Last time I walked out, there were fifteen people benching (slang for waiting) One Chap and on his trolley, One Chap had four over sized suitcases and a number of duty free shopping bags.

Obviously when Peeps saw him, they screamed in delight and rushed up to him. But wait a minute. Save for two of them who showered him with hugs and kisses, the rest were more concerned with relieving him of his luggage. They scrambled for the duty free bags and they almost fought over who should push the trolley. I felt sorry for him.

Arrivals At Entebbe International Airport

People go to the airport not to meet you but to lay claim on what you might have bought for them from your travels. They feel they must be at the source and if they are not, then they will miss out on gifts. One chap who I know – let’s call him Julio, cut work to go to Entebbe to meet his sister. Upon his return he narrated he might miss out of gifts because he found many of his siblings and extend family also waiting and going by the solitary suitcase that she flew in with, there wouldn’t be enough gifts to go around.

The man with the hat – M7 that is, is a frequent flyer. Had he be using a commercial airliner, he would have chalked up enough air miles to travel the world for five years after his retirement. And whenever he comes back, there are always people to meet him. Even when he decides to sneak in during the dead of the night, people sit looking at the skies for his plane and dash to the airport.

The people who do that include IGP, Kale Kayihura, army commander, David Muhoozi and prisons boss, Johnson Byabashaija.  I asked those in the know what the story is behind the trio always going to meet him and they tell me it has something to do with State House protocol. They say that whenever M7 returns, the trio have to be hand to brief him on the state of the nation – especially on security matters.

Vice President Sekandi Meeting M7 At Entebbe 

But it’s a lie! And I know better. You see, once Cabinet learns of an impending trip, they lobby to meet M7 and if they can’t meet him, they make do with approaching his ADC and slipping him their shopping lists to pass on.

Like the 15 people I told you about earlier on who went to the airport to meet One Chap and those who catch the eye of Usher, Kayihura, Muhoozi and Byabashaija also fall into that category. That he who goes to the airport and catches M7s eye, will be remembered and a duty free gift bag will be saved for them. 

David Muhoozi and Johnson Byabashaija

Pictures: New Vision, PPU

                          

I Properly Slept At State of Nation Address

A couple of weeks ago, an invitation to attend President Museveni’s Sate of The Nation address at Serena Conference Centre fell into my lap. Normally I tend to shy away from state functions because 1. Mr Museveni is likely to turn up three hours late, 2. His security detail will confiscate our cell phones, 3. Security will also sequester my lighter and match box and I will never see them again. Suffice to say that all the above did happen. M7 turned up two-and-a-half hours late, our phones were taken and I never saw my lighter again.

Head of State: President M7

According to the programme, we invited guests, were supposed to be in our seats by 12:30pm. I was in my seat by 12:35pm. The Governor of Bank of Uganda, Emmanuel Mutebile was due in his seat by 1:00pm and followed by Prime Minister Ruhakana Ruganda ten minutes later. Except that Ruganda turned up just before midday. Either he is a time keeping stickler or he was so eager to listen to what his boss had to say.

The card also accorded me the privilege of sitting in the section reserved for heads of institutions. So behind me was Deputy Governor of Bank of Uganda, Louis Kasekende, UNRA roads boss, Allen Kagina and KCCA boss, Jennifer Musisi while Richard Byarugaba of NSSF sat in front of me. When Byarugaba queried why I was sitting in this section, Ofwono Opondo of The Media Centre was quick to point out that news of my ‘appointment’ had yet to reach his desk.

Moving on, you know when you attend a wedding and you ask Friend who is already there to save you a seat? Well, Kagina and Musisi did exactly that. Kagina walked in first and perched her bag on the seat next to her. Ten minutes later, in saunters Musisi and when Kagina called out to her and pointed at the seat next to her, Musisi gave her the thumbs up. Interestingly enough, Kagina and Musisi are like sixth formers. Along with Doris Akol of URA, they giggled, they laughed and told jokes. Good friends they are.

Sisters: Doris Akol, Jennifer Musisi, Allen Kagina 

One thing we all had in common was our fear of the press who were on the prowl to take pictures of anybody who dared to nod off. Byarugaba made a pact with Person sitting next to him to pinch him if he fell asleep. I had sat myself next to a sign post that provided some cover and was mortified when one of the ushers took it away. The problem with the media is that these days, is that they have sophisticated long lenses and they could be in the far corner of the room and still manage to get your picture without you noticing.

And somewhere into the speech I began to nod off. I fought hard enough but four or five times I did nod off and was only woken up by Speaker of Parliament shrieking to MPs to calm themselves down. And every time I woke up, the first thing I did was to check my mouth in case I had drooled strings of malusu while I was asleep.

Me: Trying to stave off sleep

Over the next three days I bought and scoured all the newspapers and phew (!), there were no pictures of me asleep. I had obviously slept in such a way that it was impossible to have gotten a clean and clear picture of me.

Then one of my tights, Paul Kaheru decides to go and ruin everything. I don’t know where he got the clip from, but it was Agnes Nandtutu ‘shelling’. And in the clip, I am clearing seen contorting my face and swirling water in my mouth. Not good.

Now, what did M7 say in his speech? He said... but alas am out of space. Sorry.      

Pictures and News Clip: New Vision, NTV

    

The Fat Malusu Drooling Waitress

When I sat down, her lips were drooling malusu on the bar counter, eyes wide open and focused on the television set pinned to the wall. I couldn’t see what she was watching but going by the dialogue, it was some soap of sorts.

A minute later when she registered there was a customer, she frowned and screwed up her face – almost like I had walked in at the most inappropriate time and if she came to tend to me, she would miss out on the plot. So her lips stayed drooling malusu on the bar, her eyes narrowed and she continued to watch. And I sat there muttering a string of tumbavu’s under my breath.

Normally I would have walked up to her and not only assured her, but also given her a lecture on the importance of customer care, but I wasn’t in the mood. “Not today TB” so I told myself.

Waitress at Work. She is not the one depicted in the story
 

Customer care in Uganda is wanting. Few of those pretty but extremely daft girls that corporate companies hire to front their businesses have an understanding about it. Once in uniform, they stand there with a bland look that reads: “Please don’t come to me. Go to the other girls. I have not had lunch and I need 2k for boda to take me home which, I don’t have.” Hmm!

Getting back, when Waitress eventually clawed her lips from slavering malusu on the counter, she slithered over in the slowest of slow motions, stood before me and you will never guess what her first words were - not ‘welcome’ or ‘good afternoon’.

Rather, it was a loud shrill of sook’ojje (first come) and directed at Hawker walking by. After getting him to show her dozens of hair bands and accessories and haggling with him for almost five minutes, she briskly told him she doesn’t have the money and sent him packing. Then she turned round to me, swirled the opener on her index finger and stared at me. So I stared back at her. After a two minute standoff, she turned on her heels and in slow motion took her very large butt back to her soap where I distinctively heard her telling colleague that: “Customer is not telling me what he wants. What am I supposed to do?” That calls for an ‘hmm’ don’t you think?

But not all customer care stories are horror stories. I was at Nampeera’s in Soya and glued on the door is a poster that reads: “Premium Quality Offer. Buy 4, get 1 Free” - a promotion that runs every Friday and Saturday. I reminded Maria who works there, that I was there the previous Friday and had bought four beers but didn’t get my freebie. In her defence, she said it was not her fault but that of the UBL who didn’t deliver the freebie drinks. She also advised that I to talk to Young Lady who was replacing posters.

Promotion: The Offer at Nampeera's

When I explained to Young Lady who works for UBL – Valerien Namuli, she didn’t give me one of those “so what do you want me to do” looks. Instead and with purpose, she went and had a chat with Maria, came back and profusely apologised stating that there was a communication breakdown then offered two TMLs on the house to sooth my ruffled ego.

The other day, I was having a chat with Charlotte Beauvoisin, a travel writer, who told me of her experience in an Uber cab. That no sooner had she sat down than greetings were forthcoming including offering her a variety of magazines and newspapers she could read during the trip. Plus he also offered her complimentary bottled water and hand wipes!

Uber Experience: Charlotte Beauvoisin
 

Now, Namuli and Uber Driver, certainly have the right approach to customer care! 

Pictures: New Vision, Charlotte Beauvoisin    

Jenny Musisi Got The Dust Policy Wrong

I don’t like being perturbed especially on a Sunday. It disorganises me and leaves me trying to figure out ‘why’ yet, I could be doing something more useful like – err, like chilling with a cold TML and a skewer of meat in hand. But, I am perturbed with what’s happening at Kampala City Council Authority (KCCA) because Executive Director, Jennifer Musisi, got the dust policy all wrong.

I once met her at Heathrow Airport where we had a ten minute chat and I walked away with a high regard for her. I also think in the time she’s been at the helm, she has done positive work for the city especially in trying to keep it clean that every morning, Army of Women take to the streets and do their best to sweep away our litter.

But there is a problem. Right from Speke Resort Munyonyo to Kansanga or as far away as Industrial Area, Bugolobi, Ntinda or Old Kiira Road, 95 per cent of the rubbish that Army of Women sweep away, is not actual litter like – empty bottles of water, cans of Coke or paper. Rather, they spend the working day sweeping away dust – or is it soil?

By 8:00am, they are on the streets ridding the roads clean of dust and soil which, they sweep into the gutters. If there is no gutter, they heap it into small mounds which, they leave abandoned by the roadside, or throw on the steep banks of the road.

Obviously during the night when there is a rain shower, the discarded soil on the banks of the road is washed back into the roads. And the following day, the efforts of the previous day have amounted to zilch. So what do they do? They repeat the process all over again - sweeping the roads clean of dust, piling the soil into little heaps, sweeping it into the gutters or throwing it onto the banks of the road. And they do this Monday though to Saturday, throughout the year.

But there is more to the tale. When they sweep the dust and soil into the gutters, I guess there is no need to tell you what happens next, but I have to because Official at KCCA doesn’t see it.

The gutters eventually get clogged which causes flooding. And on the rare occasion that that the powers that be at KCCA realise the flooding is caused by clogged gutters, they dispatch Official wearing one of those high visibility jackets and a shiny hardhat that looks like it was unpacked from the box that very morning to see what can be done.

Official in high visibility jacket and shiny new hardhat walks about with a clipboard scribbling some idle notes and once he has gathered all the necessary information, I presume he retreats back to his office and brainstorms with Colleague until ‘Eureka!’ is achieved.

His eureka solution, is to return to the streets wearing his high visibility jacket and shiny new hard hat to tell Army of Women to dig the soil and dust out of the gutters so the rain water can wash away unimpaired into Nakivubo Channel or wherever it’s supposed to go.

Army of Women simply do as told and dig the soil up out of the gutters and once again, is there any need to tell you what happens next? No there isn’t, but I will, because Official in high visibility jacket and shiny new hard hat doesn’t appear to know.

The following day, Army of Women sweep the soil and dust they dug up back into the gutters, or leave small mounds of soil or throw it onto the banks of the road so when it rains...

Now do you see why I am perturbed?

Pictures: Daily Monitor, New Vision                       

No Term Limit For Patrick Bitature At Umeme

For a split second, I thought former Minister of Finance, Gerald Ssendaula, who sits on the board at Umeme, was going to going to pull off a boardroom coup d’etat and decide to keep the job for himself.

Board Member: Gerald Ssendaula

 A couple of weeks ago, Patrick Bitature, who is chairman of the board, had his job on the line. As he was standing for re-election, he was asked to leave the room while Shareholder decided his fate. In that time frame – a period of 40 minutes, Ssendaula was elevated to Chairman as the vote went on. While Bitature was unanimously re-elected, Elderly Shareholder who sat a couple of rows behind me voted against. When Ssendaula announced there was Shareholder who was against the re-appointment, all the other Shareholders scoured the room to see who it was. When he was smoked out, they all glared at him that he quickly lowered his arm – but by then it was too late. His vote had already been registered.

The Umeme shareholders meeting, was the first time, I had been to such a meeting and it was a morning of discovery that being Board Chairman, is no easy job. Okay, so there are some perks to the job in that all the employees call you Chairman. And at a click of your fingers, MD and even CEO will humble themselves and listen to all that you have to say. However, during a shareholders meeting, all that does not happen because Shareholder trumps Chairman. It’s Shareholder who clicks his fingers and Chairman does the dancing.

Patrick held it together as he went though the financials. He spoke well. He was articulate and he laboured to breakdown anything that was complex for us to understand. Even when the MD, Selestino Babungi, was giving his talk, he would politely interrupt and ask him to explicate things in greater detail.

Re-elected Chairman: Patrick Bitature

Then it was time for the question and answer session. One thing Shareholder had in common was to eulogize the board - in that they would spend at least seven minutes saying thank you for this and that. In fact, I am so sure that some of them would have been quite content with just saying thank you and doing away with asking questions.

But when they were done with saying thank you, and they got down to the nitty gritty, Shareholder asked some very sturdy questions. Some even threw ‘curveball’ questions. The beauty about being Chairman of The Board is that when a question becomes too complex to answer, rather than sweat it out or let it stress you, it’s merely a case of looking across to MD or Company Secretary and let them take the flack. If not, just make a directive – like: “MD, have you heard that question? Well act on it and get back to me before the close of day” which, Patrick did a few times.

Then there is Shareholder who is deemed to be a ‘thorn’. The first sat in the front row – Alfred Kabuchu, if memory serves me correct and who asked a stream of ‘thorn-in-the side’ questions. Whenever he stood up to ask a question, there was a polite ‘masked glare’ from The Board who perhaps clandestinely, hoped that Invisible Security Guard would come and banish him from the room.

Shareholder: Alfred Kabuchu

And in the row behind me, despite Patrick having answered four times previously on questions to do with late payment of dividends, Shareholder still felt the need to ask the question all over again except, he didn’t jump straight into the question. He first gave The Board a mini lecture.              

After ten years as Board Chairman, the one quip that I expected Patrick to blurt out upon his re-election was: “entebbe ewooma!” But he didn’t. He merely humbled himself. 

Pictures: New Vision, Internet                

Give Smokers Some Leeway!

My parents, The World Health Organisation (WHO) and The Ministry of Health, have issues with smoking and for obvious reasons because WHO reckons that....

• ·         Six million people die from tobacco related diseases every year which, averages out at one death every six seconds.
• ·         22% of the world’s population aged 15+ are smokers. 78% do not smoke. Non smoking is becoming the norm.
• ·         10% of the world’s population live in countries that have sufficiently high tax rates on cigarettes.

Meanwhile in the UK, The British Lung Foundation led a campaign to outlaw smoking in cars that have children in it.  They claim more than 430,000 children are exposed to second hand smoke in the family car each week. The campaign was successful that effective October 2015, legislation was passed make it an offence to smoke in a car with children in it.

Although I have been known to smoke, I do feel it was a good idea to ban smoking inside buildings such as bars and restaurants. Those who want to smoke can always make to with going outside. In England for example, pubs used to have a Smokers Lounge until legislation outlawed smoking in all public buildings.

I was in transit in Dubai recently and after a 7-hour flight, I desperately craved for a cigarette. Dubai International, unlike Entebbe or Heathrow and Gatwick airports in the UK, does provide a smokers lounge which, was a relief. With two hours to kill, I figured I could smoke enough cigarettes to get me through the next leg of my journey – another 7-hour flight at that.

Anybody who has been through Dubai International, will be in agreement with me that it is a first rate airport. Walking though the terminal, one is in awe at the design and attention to detail that went into it. Another thing, just about everything you could possibly want to buy is sold in the airport – right from the usual duty free shopping to cars and apartments.

With that, I expected to find a plush smoker lounge complete with all the amenities - plus a couple of Lebanese belly dancers for me to gawp at while a scantily clad petite lady with an average bust massaged my feet. Sitting by my side, would be the prettiest girl from Arabia and whose job would be to light my cigarettes, hold the ashtray out for me and to spray my mouth with mouth wash to get rid of the smell.

Alas, when I got to the lounge, there was none of that. As soon as I opened the door, there was a haze of smoke that is was next to impossible to see anything in front of me. Let me put it this way. Imagine being in a small room that has no ventilation while watching the sigiri light up or having your nose pressed inside exhaust pipe of a truck carrying charcoal from Bushenyi to Kampala.

That was the smoker lounge. The heat was stifling and after my first puff, I had a thought. Why am smoking? Why don’t I simply make do with inhaling the second hand smoke? In the end, I barely managed three puffs. It was too much. When I got outside, the smell of fresh air was such a relief. It took some time to get my breath back and as I sat looking at the lounge, there was a need to ask myself a question. Is that what non smokers go through whenever they are next to a smoker?

As I pondered on that, Non Smoker who sat next to me had this to say: “Jeez, you smell like a smoke factory” and relocated herself as far away from me as possible.