THE UNLEASHED

If you could give me a moment and try to ask me what it is_ a life away from your country, with no hope and plan to go back because you are running for life, and find yourself in the middle of nowhere or somewhere you think you can or may survive if God is on your side_ then I will tell you about Nakivale, the refugee camp.

Till last month, if you asked me about a refugee camp, nothing would come to my mind other than an imagination of crowds, all of different races from different corners; if any_ of the world in some small confinement, with hardly any kind of organization or control of such masses especially because of lack in the language that they speak.  I used to think that they sleep under tents, their life is very miserable and that the only support they could get was from the government.  In summation, all I thought about the camp or refugee settlement for that matter was a mess!

But now I greatly compliment the wise man who phrased that “Don’t judge a book by its cover!” He must have been ingenious indeed. Little is known about the folded pages till they are turned.  I mean sometimes some things are not that exactly that they seem to be like the first time when our eyes catch them. Sometimes it goes beyond our imagination; sometimes it is pretty bigger than we think!

There in the west of my country, my motherland, and the pearl of Africa, Uganda, settles a number of districts; and Mbarara is the commonest among all probably for its great number of cattle, and milk products or the plenty banana plantations, which yield many bunches such as seen in the principle markets of Kampala_ or even because of the famous university, MUST. But in the male conversations, I often hear gentlemen talk about the beautiful, delightful; and jolly ladies of western Uganda. This too, perhaps makes the town well known, I suppose! What do all men, after all, in this world look for? We are all men of beauty and we all look for the most beautiful. However, I did not go to the west to look myself the beautiful. Instead, I went to break the mystery and satisfy my curiosity about what I ever or never heard about the refugees that was cooking up within my inner self.

At around four or five at sunset, our boots crunched on the congealed gravel of Mbarara Bus Park.  Hildburg, the lady who took us with her, because she wanted to deliver a certain package to the refugees; but needed our company because she could not travel that long way that it was in such a strange world( I must say though tenderly; for it’s the same world still), shot her eyes into the sky and looked admiringly at the setting sun, which seemed like an orange ball falling behind the hills that seemed to touch the sky, and the rays of the sun to touch the clouds gently across the sky that gave light to the hills on the side that we faced, so as it bonded with the galaxy that appeared so colored and buried in nothing but beauty of its own Maker. It was really a sunset of great beauty! She had never experienced such a beauty of the sun as then.

“Wow! I like the sun. It’s beautiful!” she complimented and her lips twitched into a faint smile, whose radiance sparkled brighter than the sun its self. For a moment or two, she seemed taken away by her own impression as if the sun himself possessed supernatural powers that lingered in her eyes that she saw nothing else but beauty in him. She looked as if she were carried up and now she sat in the galaxy where the sun and she reigned a million of stars and planets there up.

“You do! I guess it is icy in Germany now.” I whispered to her as if I did not know that it was winter in her country already_ She had told me a couple of hours ago while we still were on bus that winter had spread his mantle of snow-white allover everywhere in Germany, and that they experienced only a brief exposure to the sun. In fact every time she comes to Uganda (she tells me) she comes to experience the sun’s warm touch as it is always icy in Germany in November and December. This is the reason as to why her visits to Uganda actually often happen during this time. She loves the sun!

We made a phone call to Victor, a gentleman who heads entrepreneurship at the refugee camp. He was the only person that Ms. Hildburg knew very well that could direct us to the refugee settlement without any fail. The two met at SINA, an innovational center in Mpigi town. SINA is under the management of some German gentleman who empowers people’s creativity through guiding them in using their own challenges as opportunities to better their own lives_ they turn challenges into opportunities.  A few things that struck me dumb and stirred up my impression the two times I was there, and I wondered how possibly these folks came up with ideas and put them on ground, were: first they managed to build houses using used up water bottles in order to minimize the improper dumping of plastics whose damage to the eco-system is fatal and brutally harsh. The first thing that welcomes your eye when you make your first step into SINA is these “out of bottle” houses, greatly colored and decorated with their roofs out of either old jerry cans or banana fibers although some are roofed with worn-out tyres. Everything used on these houses is local; but beautiful, and not made with complex technology; but impressive. The bottom-line of it all is creativity. Actually they are modern, and nice to live in as some of the guest houses I have seen in Kampala before: - the difference here being the use of plastic bottles instead of bricks; but everything else is the same.

 As that was not the end of their wits, folks made the floor out of egg shells (Imagine). I could not believe my eyes, and none else theirs, that actually it was strong. But that I walked about it, I would be doubting still. For God’s sake I was astonished and lost my reason for a fraction of a second or two.  These people were born late for their era; they should be Leonado Da Vinci or Newton of our age. You got to be Thomas of the Bible, and see for yourself first or else you can still believe not what I say to you. But what if only I am too right?

Of course I cannot tell you everything that I saw there. But the little I know from SINA, you ought to know too. That is if you are interested.

Second, on what amazed me still, people at SINA were self driven. No one told them what to do. All that was done was a product of themselves thinking and creating_ imagination! This really left me amazed as I looked at different projects under different managements yet all were of the same belonging. This is how this German, Etien designed it. Everyone is his own master. What makes you the boss is your idea!

So now I had to speak to Victor on phone because Ms. Hildburg was not so fluent in English although she could understand and comprehend whatsoever told her. Being a German, and not having learnt English in school, she often got trouble in communicating with whom could not speak her language, and could neither comprehend her English, sometimes although she tried so hard.

Surprisingly, reaching Mbarara was just the beginning of the journey to Nakivale. The camp was sixty kilometers farther still. That was about fifteen thousand Uganda shillings on taxi each. Now that we were four, that summed up to sixty thousand Uganda shillings. For travelers, it is easy to notice that we had about one and a half hours to reach the camp, yet the problem was the language here spoken. Who was going to inquire from the passers-by or the by-standers however we were going to get to the camp? Even though some spoke some English, the majority spoke Kiswahili and a language which was a mixture of all the languages spoken in this region. It sounded like a drunkard man speak Chinese. Not a word made sense in my ear. They all were meaningless to me like an old music stone that sings HAKEIEJAOOAQUAH: total nonsense but to them.

The first gentleman I made to talk to spoke a little English. I begged of him to direct us to the nearest taxi park, which he seemed hesitant of and very determined, and interested to talk to me still. His eyes rolled about before they finally looked into mine, and his voice quaked a little when he attempted to say a word. He looked a very hard-working man whose lips got scorched under the latent heat of the sun, and his palms were dirty and hard. He was dressed in a pair of huge, large; green trousers which had lost color over time. His shirt was cream; but looked like it was once white, and was tattered at the collar. He wore a pair of sandals in his feet so that they and the belt looked alike. And he had tucked his shirt in like every gentleman who deserves to earn respect should.

“Do you need a taxi?” he asked kindly as his hand grasped mine with haste. “I have a vehicle. It is comfy. You’ll like it!” He explained as his eye-brows, dusted brown of soil, lifted up so as his forehead wrinkled upwards. He was a driver and he could take us to the camp but he was expensive. He wanted us to pay thirty thousand Uganda shillings each. This was so expensive for such a shorter distance that it was, as compared to the distance we travelled from kampala to mbarara, yet at twenty thousand each, and more-over the bus was much more comfortable than his so called precious comfy car as he called it. In fact we had driven for four hours before we reached Mbarara and it was not as costly as such he wanted.  No way. Not even a fool could give him his ear.

A lady, who heard us argue about the cost of the taxi with this man stood up and raised her voice from a distance.

“I know someone who can take you to the camp. Come, follow me!”

We all looked at her as she turned her back against us and made hers move. She was some big fat woman that had veiled her head like a hajjis and a number of bangles on her left hand jingled as she moved. She looked very serious like most businesswomen who work in the markets of Ggaba(where I come from). But she was dressed in a Nigerian fashion, in a dress with designs of flowers decorated with art and looked very beautiful.

 Reaching the taxi park, which was just opposite to the bus park in which we were, we saw an old model car, I do not know the name; but looked like an Ipsum although this was too old and tired! It looked like it could not move a yard before it broke down.  It could normally carry a maximum of six passengers, and four were sat there already. Now the four of us, MS. Hildburg, Marvin, Kake and I were out still. At first I thought the lady who brought us had any other car special for us. But I was surprised when she told us that that, old, almost dead car, was what we were going on. I would refuse to sit myself there only if I had a choice. But it was getting late. None of us wished to travel with the dark. So we had to squeeze ourselves there, or else we would miss it.

Having packed ourselves in the car like luggage, the car felt damn hot like hell! I started sweating and after a few seconds, my all body was drenched with sweat. I guess I wasn’t the only one.  Every one of us started fanning ourselves with anything that would do that job, for the car had no AC.

Before he started the engine, the driver asked each one of us to pay him some deposit so that he could fuel the car and pay off the lady who had brought us. Only then did I come to realize what that lady was. She was a broker. She brings people who need taxis and she is paid a commission.

“Are we supposed to pay before we reach?” Ms Hildburg asked confusedly. She had never seen such a situation before.

“Well, we wouldn’t but we need fuel. So we need to pay some amount now.” I answered.

“How much?”

“Forty thousand shillings.”

“Das ist zu viel!” She said and now with a more raised tone. She was telling me that that was too much to pay before we reached. How could we trust the driver! But I had to put it clear for her because everyone else had paid some amount, so we too had to.

When all payments were done, and the driver fastened his seat-belt, we set off the journey that I had never travelled before. I was eager to see what lay beyond my imagination. What a refugee settlement really is.

The first few kilometers that we drove were so boring. one could only see hills, plants, and houses moving backwards when one looked through the window. None of us was saying a word except the taxi radio which played some songs that none of us apart from the driver, who seemed enyoying (because he was singing) the music, could understand. One track followed the other in turn, and they all had the same rythyme. Perhaps they all belonged to the same singer. I don't know!

But it did not take very long before we hit a dusty road that led to the camp. We first got checked by the traffic officer who got paid some cash that I never got to know for what it was. I could say that it was a bribe because the driver had overloaded; but i wasn't sure whether this driver had a valid driver's licence either. Whatever that money was for, i don't know but it was our way into the camp. 

So we drove farther and the music continued still. You could not see clearly what stood a few yards before you because the whole vicinity was covered in the mist of dust. And the vehicle raised more dust behind us so you could not see what lay behind you either. Some dust could escape through the window and made its taste be felt when you breathed in. 

 Before long, we met  driver stuck on the way. His car had broken down and he had no hope nor expectation that he would receive any help. When he saw our car coming, he got happy. I could tell from the smile he wore when he watched us get closer to him. Our car was filled to the roof and we had only breathing space left. No reserve place had been left in case of such conditions when you want to help people or someting. well, i thought so. But there was one left! The drivers seat. Hmmm! Just you could be astonished is how i got. Two drivers on one seat. One controlling the wheel and the other the gears, breaks and the accelerator. This was unbelievable. I could never think of that happening in world. I mean, it was insane. What if they lost control! But who knows if it was fun? Yes, it was! Till the driver was dropped where he could get help and we continued.

Now we reached the camp and i wondered whether i wasn't dreaming. The first thing i noticed were cattle grazing in the fields, with some boys running after them. In the neighborhood, i could see a high school and a  police station. The police were the normal Uganda police force smartly dressed in their uniform, and their boots fastened such that their trousers were tucked in them. When e came closer, we were asked to pull over, and everyone of us was told to get out of the car. The next thing we were asked what we wanted and our personal documents; and most important of all, they wanted a written letter that allowed us to get into the camp. Now that's where trouble began. I had no national identity card. I had no passport. And i had not traveled with my student's identity card. Of all that they wanted, i had nothing.

So I was held a captive, and they told me i could not get into the camp; and i could not go anywhere either. They said I could be a terrorist or someone who wanted to harm the refugees who came to Uganda to save their lives. 

'What if you come from their country and you want to kill the refugees here? Who knows who you are?'

'But am a Ugandan. I escorted my German friend!'

'Where's our id?'

'Am sorry sir I left it at home.'

Saying the truth wasn't going to save me. Folks wanted much more than that. Dusk was coming, and my shadow grew longer and soon it began to fade away. The birds of the air were flying back home, and the cattle had left the fields. Not even the boys were playing still. And I was still pleading with the policemen to let me free. Ms. Hildburg tried to explain but all in vain. The poor lady shed her tears for me. She said, "I am not going anywhere without Regan. I either go to the settlement with him, or we go back home together. Am not leaving him behind."

She called Victor to see whether matters could be settled, but nothing seemed to get any better. Folks were rigid still. 

After a long long time, two of them whispered at me. I wondered why they had not done that in first place. All of them were dirty cops. That was their way of getting money from people. of course it was right to keep their security tight; but with reasonable reasoning. Anyway, i paid them some little money and i was free. That's how I entered the refugee camp!

When we got there, it was a whole village; not what my expectation was. There were houses, shops, schools, and all sorts of business. We rented some rooms there, and we paid fifteen thousand shillings per night. It was a bit expensive, especially if one had to stay for more nights! 

That evening, we walked around. I was met people from Congo, Somalia, Bujumbura, Ethiopia and Rwanda. Some girl from Congo walked me through the entire camp; and on this, she told me a lot about her past and how she got into the camp. She told me she was studying. She was in high school and she had great hopes to go America to further her studies. That is if all worked on her plans. 

"Now let me take you to Somalia!" She said.

"Somalia!" I wondered confusedly.

"Oh yes. We have places in this camp. There is Somalia, Ethiopia, New Congo, New Bura and so on." 

"Why do call them like that?" I asked with curiosity.

"Well. people usually come here in great numbers and when they are settled, the county from which they come becomes the name of their new settlement."

"Somalia is the richest here. They have supermarkets, boutiques, and expensive things. Most people however live in New Bura. That's for the middle class. Sudan used to be the richest but they all left the camp.  They got much money and went to America." She explained.

"America. You have America here?" I asked in astonishment.

"Noooo. Oh my God. Am talking about real America. They left for America. We don't have it here!"

Now it was dark, and we were in the town still. Yes she was walking me through the town. She said they had villages too, but villages were dangerous to new comers. She said people would attempt to beat me thinking i had money. 

"And aren't you afraid to walk alone back home?" I asked her worriedly. She said it was dangerously for girls to move at night especially if they were alone. Lustful men would take advantage of them and might even kill them if they fought them.

"I have friends here. They'll take me home. No need to worry!" 

After I had sen the town and saw where We could buy food and water when we got hungry, I asked her if she could take me back to the unleashed. 

Unleashed was under the management of Victor. He organised sessions to train such people who had desire to learn and better their lives. Hildburg had brought them computers and they could use them in their projects. Some of their projects included art, computer studies and entrepreneurship. But Victor told me they had just started. they needed a hand in anyway possible. He showed me some of his scheduled future plans, and he explained his challenges. Of course it was vivid clear that they lacked money to run some of their projects. For instance they wanted to promote girl child education but it wasn't that easy at all. By starting this organisation, The Unleashed, he had hope to help many of those who came from their countries and could not go back because of different reasons. But they all deserved a second life, because they all had dreams.

Actually i listened to stories of many there. Some left Congo when wars disturbed peace. Some lost all their family members in war. Some woke up to find dead bodies washed ashore. And everything was just as scary. Well, in short, all of them were at least victims of wars which were going on in their countries.

I would continue writing and tell you more about my adventures but some things that I saw there really make me emotional and i cannot find exact words say. You could be wherever you are and you think your life is a mess, but there are people whose life is well a mess but they are happy and work hard at making good out of it. At least we should appreciate the mere fact that we are still alive. Nothing is better than that. That's a gift from God!

Darryl and Poetry

EMBRACE EACH NEW DAY

Bless the day Tuesday

it is so fine and dry

But why do I always

feel I really want to

cry?

The Lord has blessed

me for another new

day

But that doesn't cure

my day to day dismay.

The thought of going

outside doesn't do me

any good

I should be full of life - 

as I know I should.

I should embrace the

day and smile from

ear to ear,

But, all I really do is

shed a little tear.

Each new day I see I

should smile and feel

positive

But I always feel so

very down - maybe I'm

just too sensitive?

I walk when I'm outside

and I see many people

But I also go and hide

myself - behind the 

church steeple.

Maybe one day I will

feel better - I really do

not know

But at the moment all I

feel is very low.

The invisible distress I

feel is down to mental

illness

And all I feel when I am

outside - I have to face

the inhospitable human 

wildnerness.

BY

DARRYL ASHTON 

   

The distribution of life.

It is striking to a traveller that animals of one continent look totally different from others in another continent. The question to the biologists and all other people  like me, to which we seek an answer is that " what causes such differences? Or quite complex, what is the origin of the many different organisms that exist today?"

Quite clearer with scientific support, I will try to explain why the modern animals found in Africa are totally different from those that are found in south america and Australia despite the fact that all the three continents lie in the southern hemisphere with an almost same range of latitude. Then I will also answer the question why, unlike in the southern hemisphere, in the northern hemisphere, the animals look less or most similarly alike.

It is suggested that animals of the present southern hemisphere, all originated and migrated from the northern hemisphere. From there, they moved into Africa through the strait of Gibraltar; to south america via isthmus of panama, and to Australia via southeast Asia. Indeed, fossil records trace the ancestors of today's animals in the north. You may wonder if the animals of the three southern continents have the same origin inspire of their clear cut differences. Yes, the puma in south america and the lion in Africa have a common ancestor in the north. But what happened to cause these differences? The answer is that after migration, these animals underwent adaptive radiation in which they were isolated and became independently adapted to their new continents. It is those characters they evolved that they passed on to the next generation which we are seeing today.

Now you may have been in Asia and north america and realised, unlike here in Africa, Australia and south america, the similarity among their fauna. You may have got surprised or quite simply amazed or even astonished by the similarity. Perhaps it did not come to your mind, a question of the observation. But it was a good observation for which is worth the following explanation. It should be in your mind, if not already, that north america and Asia are separated by Bering strait. This strait is shallow and less than 100km wide. It is therefore obvious to realise that it was simpler for animals to migrate from either continents. May be I should echo that in the south, the difference was geared by total separation of the continents, which did not happen in the north.

If you are a reader of books, you stand a chance to have read about a reptile known as mesausorus. It has sharp teeth, long tail and webbed feet. In it, may be to a biologist, it is of no great interest. However, my interest lies in its distribution. In this world, it is found in two places: west of south Africa and east of south america. My question to you is that, " how did it reach south america given it migrated from Africa or there other way round?"

I know the explanation that gives a possible answer to the question. We cannot say that it migrated via the north leaving no fossil records behind. In the name of common sense, that is impossible! And it is unlikely possible to say that because it was well adapted to aquatic life, it swum. No one can ever believe that it swum over 3000 miles.( you bare me witness, it cannot happen).

So my explanation is explained by continental drift, which is the breaking up of land  mass. The truth is that when pangea(land mass) split up, that is when Africa split separate from south america, some of the reptiles remained in Africa while others drifted with the broken piece to form south america. Actually, my defence for my explanation is that, if you try to bring the map of the world into close proximity, you realise that each piece fits in another in form of a jigsaw puzzle. That is enough to make us understand that world was one large land mass.

Continental drift can also help me to explain to you why some organisms are restricted to defined places. Say for example  the primitive egg laying mammals, the monotremes  which are found in Australia and south america. We cannot say that they got into Australia from the north via south east Asia like I said above because they would be represented in the north too, but they are absent there. It said thus that they enters through Antarctica from south america to Australia. This is because the last pangea to break happened during the times of primitivity and that is why I did not use it to explain the distribution of modern animals.

If you want to understand more about the biology in our vicinity, you may contact me at reganlugoloobi@gmail.com.
🆗?

The Price Of A Beginning.

Had you asked me why I want to write so much, I would not tell that it is for having many stories to tell. Actually, I think writing is part of some one. Sometimes when I am sitting alone, looking in space but really seeing nothing- just lazing away the afternoon- I get something like a call. A voice from within me. A voice that is not more than just a breath. It that voice that provokes my art or science of writing. Then I start with a letter, just one, and that letter, along with others makes a word. Words make sentences. And I come with up with a composition.

That is exactly what happens in our lives. There are situations when we have to take decisions but we ought to be bold and more courageous than we ever be. I have seen people. They have failed to get by because they don't want to a step forth. But for now I know why they don't want to take important steps. It is just because they fear to take a loss and they fail to initiate the beauty of a threshold, Look! Even a thousand miles' journey begins with a step. A large house begins with a brick. The manipulation of the basic ideas is what at the end results in a success.

Let me talk about success. Success is not to wake up one morning and try to do something and pursue a goal. It is to work hard at something, stick with it and no matter how many times you fail to win, you still stand up and start a new beginning. It is not measured in how much you put in, but rather in hoe much you obtain afterwards. People who fear to fail have already failed to try. Isn't that a failure already? Yet, starting is far too better than ending.

PAINS OF LOVE

I have not heard of a man die of love; but I have seen a disappointed lover grow thin. It happened a while a go when lonely John lay his eyes on pretty Sophie. The two had not been known to each other but they grew fonder of each other in a very magical way of love.

One evening, John was sitting in his chair, thrumming on the strings of the guitar. The guitar produced a very nice sound that seemed to calm the soul of old Regina, who looked fondly at the young boy_  admiring his skill. She always kept alone at home and during the weekend like that evening, when John had not to go to school, John gave her company. In fact, the two gave each other company, Regina was full of interesting stories, which could stir up John's joy. Every time she started with a phrase like, " Once upon a time" or " long ago..." John's ear was inclined, eager to listen with expectancy. Actually, he would become all ears for the old "girl".So, they would burst out into laughter at the funny jokes which John used to crack. They were happy friends.

From no where, John,s eyes caught a young beautiful girl from a distance. Her blond hair rose up with the wind that blew faintly over her head. She looked perfectly nice and attractive. John lost his head in wonders. He looked amazed at the young girl without uttering a word. He was sent into imaginations by just a mere glance of the girl.
" Hello!" She greeted him in a modern way of life. But the only answer she received from him was a smile. Was he just evasive to her? No, he had not yet recovered from his imaginations. He was yet in his own world, the one he was sent to by a strong ineluctable force of his senses.

"I am Sophie." Now John was awaken from his dream. He had not noticed already that Sophie was standing right before him. He grew nervous because she seemed to have given him a fright; he had not thought she was there looking at him.

Stammeringly, he said, "Hi",while at the same time lifted his hand to meet Sophie's. The two shook hands but John's was trembling. It was not because he feared girls as such but this one was different. She happened to change his attitude towards girls; Initially, John did not ever dream of associating with girls_it was the last thing he would ever think about. His heart was so cold and hard like ice.

" So you play a guitar?" She asked him with a smile on her face.
" Yeah, sure. I do."He answered and there fell a pregnant silence over them. None of them breathed a word for a fraction of a minute. In fact, even the environment became too quiet. Silence reigned over them till John broke it.
"Do you like playing this guitar?"
"Well, I do but I don't know how to do it.....may be you can teach me?"
"You really wanna learn? Count it done!"
John asked her to sit in a posture like he was positioned in and he taught her how to press the finguers on the strings. But she did not do it perfectly, John had to help her learn hoe to do it. So, he seized his hand to help her out. For a fraction of a second, he felt their softness. They reminded him of his mother's which sedatively cushioned him when he was still a boy nursing at his mother's breast. Now he rubbed his thumb fondly over Sophie's delicate fingers. She responded back to him with a smile. Then they played the guitar together till late into the night. He wished her good night and he walked back home.

He went thinking about that moment. He trod along with his shadow as the only company. It went following him with the same pace; never hurrying nor hesitating, but with the same speed he  walked at. When he reached, he still thought about Sophie. He could not sleep, he wanted to go back to her. The night was to long. Morning seemed to be so far. But he had to wait.

When morning came, the sun rose from the east over the beautiful lake of Victoria. It cast strong yellow light of the water that the whole place looked beautiful. John had arisen before dawn and he was looking admiringly at lake. He stretched his eyes to see very far beyond the lake. There he saw sky touching the water, and the mist fading away by the sun. He drew some water in a pot and turned round to still see the beautiful nature. Now he made to move. The dewy grass washed his feet as he trod, balancing a potful of water on his head with accustomed ease. He always felt fresh after showering with the water from the lake. There was a way it seemed to calm the nerves and freshen the mind.

John totally changed over time. He started up a new way of life. He starting hanging out too often with Sophie. He had feelings for her, feelings he never had for any other girl. Even when he went to school, he would not keep there for so long. He made sure that he spent some time in the evening with Sophie. That was a must!

Time went so fast. Sophie's stay in Uganda had reached to an end. She did not have more than two days still. But she had to go back. That evening, John delayed to come. She awaited him for long but he did not show up. She sat alone in her favorite spot, where John always met her; But all in vain. She began to lose hope in John. Where was he? She did not know.

Yet John was on his way. He had had a long day at school. He had a lot of work to do. He had to do it before he left school that evening. But he had not forgotten about Sophie despite the work. Work alone could not deter him from seeing her. after he was done, he girded his bag across his shoulders and moved with haste to go to Sophie. Now, the sun began to sink low. His shadow grew longer and began to fed away. The only path he had to go through was a forest. It was the shortest route to Sophie's home. But the forest was scary. The trees were too tall like giants. They carried the whole sky on their tops. Nothing but silence_ frightening silence_ was there in there. But poor John had to man up. He had to show bravery and and bold up. He moved into the forest. Then he started hearing voices. He felt like someone was haunting him or a dangerous animal stalking him for his blood. Wind blew over the trees and they whispered back in frightening sound. Some branches fell and John ran away from actually nothing. He feared to lose his life but he could not step back. still, he wanted to see Sophie. Through every moment of fear that he went through, he still persevered and he reached.

On his arrival, he feared it was so late. He thought Sophie was asleep already and feared to awaken her. He thought for a moment and then he made up his mind. He trod though a narrow gate of Sophie's and he entered. Then he saw Sophie sitting alone. she was sitting bending her neck such that her forehead rested on her fists. Then John feared again. This time he feared to disturb her.

While he made to abscond, his shoes betrayed him. He stepped on a stone and slid over it. Sophie him and her eyes with expectancy. Her red blood lips twitched into a glancing smile. She ran happily after him and she fell into his arms, hugging him and squeezing him to her bosom.
"Oh my God! I thought you were not going to come"
"I am sorry." He apologized for being so late.

At that time, they looked into each other's eyes very admiringly. None of them said a word. suddenly, Sophie's eye's burst out into tears. They drained her cheeks and one drop fell on her lips which she dried over them. She was crying because she was going back to her country and that she was going to miss John so much. She did not want to live him behind. The too had been joined by strong ties that no one could ever break. John hugged her so tightly like he would never let her go. She, too, hugged him the same way. Now the two were too close too each other that their hearts began to speak a language that they could not understand. It was a command set between them. The warmth made John be drenched with sweat. It was as if he had began to fear. His heart throbbed so loudly that he feared other people would hear it. His heart beat for Sophie.
He looked at her and grew even fonder. He got much more closer to her and his lips touched with Sophie's. She had the sweetest mouth. Her lips dripped honey; She had honey underneath her tongue.

Up in the sky, the moon shyly hid in the clouds. Stars still spied on them, giving out that light that shone in Sophie's eyes, making them appear in John's eyes like they were stars themselves.

Now every story has an ending. Sophie flew back to her country and she forgot all about that experience. John remained as the only victim of their love. Distance took his lover and made his heart grow even more fond of her. "Time is devoid of shame." He thought. "Love makes time to pass and time makes love to pass." All that that joined him with Sophie broke and came to pass. He suffered loneliness till then. Sophie never came back again. She had gone for good. She sent him a message, "John. Thanks for the time in Uganda. I know it isn't gonna be easy but I din't think I love you...."

THE WAY

I am an A’ level student. I am a science student. I want to be successful in life, just like I hear of many prominent people in the world. The desire to achieve success has not left me the same. It has changed every bit of me. I have changed a great deal. These days, I lay awake_ keeping my eyes opened all night long_ just to see my dreams come true.  I keep up every night, reading every letter in the texts such that it becomes part of my DNA. I know it is hard to keep up so late and I know its consequences_ feeling dizzy the following day and looking half asleep. But it is the only way to go, the only way to achieve success.

Day by day, night by night, I keep on reading hoping one time it shall come to pass. All the misery will vanish and success prevails. I feel it instilled within me. I see it; I foresee it in my insight. 

So I believe in the time to come that I will have it hand and no one will take it away from me because I will have worked so hard at it. It is through my daily practice that I have confidence in the time to come. And it is not my worries that drive me, my weaknesses that discourage but my strength that braces me up. I am proud to shout out my success to the whole universe. 

                                      I AM DESTINED TO WIN!!!

MY UNBELIEVABLE ADVENTURES

Hello my esteemed reader. It is been a while now ever since I last wrote a blog. Now I have a lot of things to explain my absence and the delay to write blogs. 
It was really a pleasure to be nominated or chosen to be part of the ICT  mappers. It was one big luck that I was yet to explore my geography skill of mapping using an ICT idea. It happened that I found myself with a team of twelve students to map with. It was simple. These were digital maps. So we used digital devices. These were actually smart phones, GPS units and computers. So the teacher introduced us to how to use these devices and with no time we had owned the skill. The next step that followed after this is actually the threshold for today's blog. The story begins.
In our neighborhood, there is a place known as Katoogo. A place known for its poverty. A slum it is. It was the place we drew all our focus to since it was in line with our theme "COMMUNITY MAPPING FOR URBAN RESILIENCE AND SAFETY". Actually, most of us had not grasped the finer and clearer image of what our theme was actually about. Now we sloped down to Katoogo with a great eager to know what lay in the wetlands. No. In the slums.
We did not take long before our boots stepped on the muddy grounds of the slum. We paused amazed at the first glance when our eyes caught the entire place with funny houses confined in the same place with out any discernible plan. One house looked very much similar like the other and if one did not known the place, one would actually lose one's way to a certain destination in the slum. However, there in between the houses existed corridors and these are what had been turned into play grounds for the children.The poor children run about the corridors all chasing one ball. All of them were drenched with sweat which they dried with their dirty patched clothes. Their legs were brown- the color of mud. What was so similar about them was their unfitting pants. The torn pants were sagging down and so they always had to hitch them up.
Oh what a plight they lived in! But they were happy and unbothered about their misery.
At that time, we started our work straight away. We took pictures of most scenes, and taking data on every thing there that was worth to record. One of the most pitiful conditions of the place was sanitation. It was so poor. There poor latrines_in fact, some latrines had an abnormal structure as they were instead flats. They were so high in the sky.
There withal, garbage was every where. It compiled up and made a huge heep that was the mother of the stench that infested Katoogo. 
In addition, this place had no proper drainage, steams of water passed through everywhere and the whole ground was soft and sticky. A lot, more weird things happened in Katoogo but people still lived there. Where were the poor people to go once they left Katoogo? That was a question that everyone called in question_it was a question of concern. 
A students of coarse, we did not intrude into any business that we had no partnership in. Our work was to collect data and present it as one detailed map. Of what importance was this. It was for pitching out our idea to the UCC( Uganda Communications Commission). Even then, were to compete with other schools that had other ideas of ICT and were to use them to help solve problems in their society. But we had hope that once we showcased our project, it would be of help to slums in urban centers.