From private to public Parts

Nothing worries me more about today’s world than the thought that, some of it’s most influential women will lead it astray by doing the easiest most private things publicly, stripping naked and being applauded for it in the name of fashion.

Being confident with your body is more than stripping it naked for the whole universe.

This is my suggestion all the parts we once called private must now be called public parts because the facts have changed.

There is always something to give if you look close enough.

Too often we look far in search of expensive material things to give which in the end are either unwanted or untimely or simply unaffordable by us.

We ignore timeless free gifts of life like hugs, kisses, smiles, cherished family moments and just a few warm words shared human to human.

Of course to some people family is the most important thing in life. How about you, what is the most important thing in your life?

I have heard all that talk about differences in priorities. Are you the kind who is always thinking and talking  about your priorities?

But how thorough have you examined your priorities or is it another word you use because it sounds trendy?

Do you ever take time to reflect about what really happens around you and how it all impacts your life; especially your social life?

Sure moments of affirmation of love from sibling to another, parent to child(children) and vice versa, extended relatives, friends, churchmates, schoolmates, workmates, intimate partners and all human to human connections.

Unfortunately, these significant moments which would have turned magical, pass us as we are busy pondering about non issues like; how cheap another girl’s dress was too short or another boy’s shirt was missing a button. Or what really is wrong with another person! Those are non issues yet not even a percentage of the total sum of useless things that we waste our precious time on.

I am an emotional person, not scared to express in words and gestures what I feel. To close friends and family, I am addicted, compelled by what and how I feel about them, to express in any form how I feel about them.

I never feel its too much because I want those people to know and understand that I do mean it when I say or indicate that I love them. I think that it helps to affirm to people how we feel about them when they are still alive. Maybe that is all they need to live a happier life and live longer. So just by opening your mouth and affirming what you feel for your parents, neighbours, friends and enemies, you could save their lives.

I therefore urge you to deliberately choose to make people especially those who matter to you the most happier and prolong their lives. It is however, unfortunate that many of us wait until we have to regret the chances we missed.

When we went to school especially secondary and university, we said love, sweetie, cutie, babz to almost every female member of our class or at least those who belonged to a certain circle. We all felt great in relationships with each other. It seemed like envy and jealousy never existed. We wanted each others best and we did encourage each other.

With social media now, it feels hilarious when a friend from the past gets in touch or their profile pops up on social media. We quickly want to get in touch and catch up. Second example; it is always a great feeling when I speak to my uncle Cyprian Mugasa and he says, “Take care. I love you”. Something my father was also found of when he lived.

I know that acquiring good habits is among the hardest things in life as compared to the bad ones. I have tried it many times when I tell people in my circle to tell others that they love them but they simply shy away and decline. The common feedback that I get is that they have never before told these people that they love them so it will be awkward.

Well, what is wrong with awkward? We all find ourselves in awkward situations all the time or don’t we?

Are we really human? If yes, then we must allow ourselves to feel awkward sometimes. Let our emotions flow freely and uninterrupted. Let us experiment with ourselves and see what really happens when what started as awkward repeats itself over a period of time.

Don’t you want to affect positively the lives of the people you love and care about? How far have you come by holding back?

Have you ever imagined how much better things would be if you were not holding back?

Love like other emotions is contegious. The more you give the more you get back and the bubble continues. I want you to imagine a first time mother. Holding all the other factors constant. Imagine that she planned this baby and she wants it more than life itself. She would do anything for it. How do you think it feels to be in that situation? That is love and most parents have it for their children. However, the world would be lucky if some children had just half of that for their parents. If this was a research I would definitely be interested in examining the cases of industrialised and non-industrialised worlds separately.

Have I said too much now?

If I have, then I hope you are saturated with the warmth of my intended meaning.


I want you to learn to say this short sentence more often.

Not that I don’t appreciate the way, the timing and frequency when you say it.  But my concern is for all the times,

All the people you hold so close to your heart.

All the moments that would have turned magical and forever memorable.

Only if you said the magic words;

I love you.


Kazooba Susan

The warmth and presence of another human, any human at all, will remain the greatest connection to the very end of life no matter the level of robotic evolution.   

Weakness per say.

When people portray you as weak, disappoint them. You are not who they say you are. You are who you decide to be.

Capitalise on the very reason they think you are weak to shine through.

Admitting weakness is like admitting guilt. Confession is possession. You are thus weak when you say you are. Resist the temptation to slack.

Walk the talk. You have had the expression a million times right? Well, then walk it!

Love who you are. Recognize your weak points and steadily work on strengthening them. If poverty holds you back, enroll for a course and seek a job to begin with or create one.

Invest your resources in content which develops you. Don’t spend time thinking about completely none content issues like the colour of your skin.

I believe some of us black people, water down blackness by preferring to be lighter or even white. Other people do everything, spend every coin, including the only coin! For what? To undermine who we are. Our heritage. Our identity. Our children’s legacy. Our roots and core!

The weakness card is fake.

The sooner we realize it and start acting f**king responsible for our continent the better for us all.

The world is selfish. People are selfish and people are right! That is human nature, profoundly egocentric and self-centered. They are looking out for their own.

Protecting or multiplying opportunities, jobs, investments, gainables for their own! Try it and see!

Like everything which has a beginning, the division of the world into territorial boundaries was the very genesis of divisionism in its present day manifestation.

Every territory has its own resources and planning on the best way to use those resources for the growth and development of the people of a given territory is the task at hand. Thus the duty and responsibility of the people of each territory organised under their leaders.

Let me emphasize, stop blaming the western world for everything and if you doubt me, stop and see!

Bad leadership and greed are the root causes of all the evils in Africa and the world. Try democracy and see!

I appreciate western civilisation. I hope that you do too! But it is centuries old. Start building African democracy and civilisation now. Try it and see!

Democracy is a good thing. Leave alone the fact that soome contemporary dictators and hooligans are depicting it negatively. There are some good examples in the world. Try following them and see!

Nothing is perfect so is democracy. As the human race, it is incumbent upon us to start discussing ways forward for punching the weaknesses of our modern democracy!

Third world, developing, underdeveloped, poor, uncivilized, jungle world, lost, dark continet or global South, whatever name that they have called you, the onus is on you. Try uniting and focusing on yourself.

Try putting the people fast and see!

I will not call you stupid because you cannot write. However, I think you are dumb stupid for failing to read the handwriting on the wall!


Kazooba Susan

Hopeless Romantic

I am a hopeless romantic.

I believe in the wishper of sweet nothings.

I am in fact a bigger wishperer.

I believe in butterflies and in farytales.

I have nothing against dinning like a princess surrounded by Jasmines and roses.

I love flowers and to win me, you only buy me a rose.

I believe in love. The kind that will turn me left, right and centre but remain true.

I am a hopeless romantic.


Kazooba Susan

Fall in love not in a pithole.

Admire the heart not the body.

Consider the virtues before the height and the curves.

Critically assess someone’s life’s goal before you commit yourself for better or worse based on the pretty face.

Otherwise that honey pot in your chest you call a heart will cause you problems if you allow it to continue boiling uncovered.

You know what they say about love right? It is blind.

Do you really believe in such?

Personally I don’t and neither do I encourage you.

I believe that whoever said that lived Before Christ.

However, falling in Love After Christ is not the end goal but staying in it and making it sustainable amidst all the challenges of our time.

Cultivating a ground for a healthy relationship that builds not one that drains.

Having a partner who works for and envisions the growth of the relationship not one who looks for their own individual benefits.

Do you ever stop and question why your personal growth stagnated since you met this person!

Love is a result of a conscious decision made by sound minded persons who come together and commit to each other with clear goals.

It requires therefore that their eyes are wide open.

When it comes to love, I think that a person with bigger eyes would be better than a blind one.

Keep in mind that the subject of comparison is true love.

Otherwise mine are wide open and I am in love💖

so, listen to me on this, fall in love but not in a pithole and be careful because they say, not all that glitters is gold.


Kazooba Susan


Lake Kyaninga in Kabarole District.

Time takes the right course.

Like water, events flow.

History is recorded.

Definately out of necessity.

And all memories remain.

The sun rises and sets.

Kings rise and fall.

Leaders come and go.

We all grow and die.

But all memories remain.

Some are dehumaized.

Others tortured.

Rights abused.

Freedoms violated.

No one held accoutable.

But all memories remain.

Be arrogant and ungrateful.

Corrupt everyone.

Derogate people’s cherised values.

Abrogate international protocols.

Disbonour accountability sanctions.

But all memories remain.

Curse the timing!

I wish I were here earlier.

The volcano is active.

And any time is eruption.

How unfortunate we are.

The man cursed our lot!

What a burden our generations must bear!

But all memories remain.

A few are leaders.

Others ex-guerrilla men.

And some still bushmen unable to understand constituational matters.

Amending the book of the people and giving room to the law of the jungle.

Of course to protect their own forest from competing wild fires.

But all memories remain.

Oh, our lives! Who cares?

They swindle and squander our national resources.

They take debt on our behalves.

They live uphill in mansions as we live downhill in their gatas.

From us they take inform of tax and never give back anything or at least penuts.

I mean where are those social services you may refer to if you doubting me?

Oh our lives.

I worry not only for my unborn children but even their descendants.

Shall I cry or shall I not!

Shall I smile or shall I let be?

Shall I smile to show gratitude and fullfil their expection of me or shall I just beat it!

What do i care? I mean they care even less!

Or shall I cry because that is what I really feel for?

I don’t care if I don’t make any difference for all I care about is to express myself.

The oppressor has indeed done his job and now it is up to you.

He wants you to be silent and let him do as he wishes but that is the worst form of violation. Resist him. Talk. Shout. Write. Sense and nonsense but express yourself and repeat it allover again and again.

Let him bend you but not break you. Let him tear gas you or beat you but as long as he doesn’t maimed you, I say you still got some means. Look here, the worst thing you can do is let a dictator take away your voice. Don’t allow him to silence you.

Of course he has don’t it all. What do you think it means when the freedom of the media is grossly infringed upon. That is the worst a dictator can do to cut off the people’s means to openly air out their oppressions or sufferings. To hinder people from speaking out. From openly resisting. From fighting but and from trying to hold him accountable.

Maybe you learned some lessons from those democracies that we read about in history and you can help me here, does it really matter if you are oppressed or not? Because that is all that I feel within the territorial boundries of this country whose greatness has been hampered many times by men and women such as those whom some of our idiot brothers and sister worship now as though they are small gods here in our country.

I know they say that kings rise and fall but I hate to catch myself thinking like that. I focus most on the element of time above all. I also mind much the lives of the young women and men who live and perish without ever see their bottoms because they never grew to materialise and make that major turn.

How can I cry, smile or understand the difference in the similarity!

Who expects me to understand anyway?

All they see are idiots. Constituents and votes leave alone voters. If any voters at all then those whose vote has a monetary value anyway and in which case the buyer sets his own price.

Because I don’t not have the ability to huggle, I also blame it on you. I mean, you mastered my weakness and now you know them. I am weak, I admit but you made me that way. Right from day one you have planned to weaken me with your one man’s vision to exploit me. Denied me education, health services and abandoned me to die in hunger and poverty.

Some will seek to exonerate you of all that I accuse you of. Others will even wonder how I dare do that but my simple response is try and be oppressed and subdued by a true dictator then you will understand what we have gone through without a glimpse of an end.

Too bad some short sighted people see an end. A quick end. An end that is very near. Unfortunately for me I must admit that some of you my brothers and sisters are also idiots of your own kind. Looking at all this dust in the tunnel, how long sighted are you to see an end. Moreover a clear end! You tempt me to assume that you are not sighted at all.

Or are they right to see that in us all and well, then our blood lineage could be clearly confirmed cursed. I mean we are black. Right? Some people have actually gone out of their ways and assumed that we black people are by all means less intellectually gifted compared to others. But I mean, personally many times I have wondered about this otherwise, our development process should no longer take as long as the West and some of the East did because, those same people have laid the road map for us.

Well, they are partly to blame for our confusion! I mean, have you ever imagined what this great continent would have become if they never interfered with the process of our development. If they never disrupted the societal order that was established?

Yet, even to some of them all I am is still a common idiot. Look they blame me for allowing a dictator to keep us hostage for this long yet they forget easily how long it took them in view of their own past dictators.

To the best of their knowledge, I am an idiot who will never rise up and demand for my rights.

And what if I do, the gun is there to put me right back in my place!

So whatever I chose to do I am the loser either way.

Who cares?

Oh our lives.

They travel first class,

They eat at their fancy tables draped with silver and gold.

They sleep in five star hotels apparently and talk about us as poor and dirty disgusting people.

They wonder if we really are human.

They convene with the rest of the world leaders at such summits but all they learn about democracy is dictatorship.

All they learn out of development theories is, self gain.

I am tired of it all.

Who cares!

Oh our lives.

We cry.

We demonstrate peacefully.

We vote or not.

We try to form political parties to oppose the wrongs.

But what don’t you know about dictators.

They are the system and the system is them. So why don’t you teach me how to separate them?

Together with all their puppets, the only rule they know is that of covering each other’s backs.

They bit and blow each other like rats.

And the idiots some of us are, of course we join them in their biting and blowing games to seek for survival right?

I don’t really care. You are all one of a kind. Look, I never waste my time in assuming that you are different. I mean if your were, wouldn’t that thick skull of your tell you to do the right things and roast the real oppressors and yes, give back the power to the people?

I just wonder. Who you think you are and how long you think you can play this game. And the end that is what it is. Right? A game. I am not proud of it but I pity you all puppets because you think that it is us all idiots who get played and you are part of the players but see how quick you get picked, used and dropped any time like a used tissue!

I truly don’t care if you think that I am the idiot here but what matters to me is that you are the bigger idiot.

There goes some of us who have been good ones for decades joining them because we can’t bet them. But this is what I say, we beat them again and again and again and try even harder. As long as we never give up, one day the odds will be on our side and we will beat them out of that power that they captured and clinged on like a tick on a cow. Idiotic move. Just sucking cow but not feeding it so is the problem here. The cow or the tick?

But who cares!

Heros versa enemies of the people.

Today, the 28 August 2018, I lay down with monsters in the head and I woke up with skeletons in my bed. As if that was not enough, my mind still took a trip. A long trip to a faraway vacuum space I wouldn’t call a place because my morals prohibit me. A small landlocked country on the Eastern side of the world’s largest continent. A land where dreams go to die unless one is a dictator. Tragic socio-economic inhumane living conditions, gross environment degradation, despeakable human rights violations not to talk of the political insanity.

Looking straight in my eyes, she proceeded to narriate to me how together with her boyfriend they had talked about Africa over the weekend and they had wondered what really went wrong with the continent! A whole big continent with so much resources ending up like that, she lamented!

Awakened by the thoughts of yesterday following the last minutes at work before I headed for the train. My colleague sat behind me and read my satirical article, The tears of a crying continent, as I continued to type journal documents from my meetings with clients. She suddenly, said, well done. What a wonderful piece to sum up Africa (original statement in Swedish).

Seated crossleged on one of the two blue visitor’s chairs in my then office, she spoke at once, her voice scared me because I had not paid attention to her presence as I was burried in my day’s wind-up

Her voice was soft and sympathetic but her words were sharp. Awakening to the thoughts of one who is often thinking and wondering herself, what and who it will take? Assuming that Nelson Mandela’s good seed fell on a hard rock and failed to germinate. These thoughts often cause me migraine and spark a series of confusing episodes.

The same occurred when my college made her statements. And not because I had never heard such before but because I had heard it so often that there was no longer a place to hide. Finally even my work mate had said it. More than often three of my workmates who had been to different parts of Africa including her, had explained their odeals as tourists, interners and volunteer in different countries of the continent but unfortunayely non had made me proud.

Still seated there and with her gazing at me with dare expectaion of feesback, tears suddenly rolled down my eyes as I quickly wiped them away every time they appeared. That evening, I caught the train from Herrljunga headed to Gothenburg then the bus home all shocked in a pool of my different body fluids. With my nerves still cracking and the demons in my mind all screaming.

When I got home, thought went to a Ugandan  man called Kiiza Besigye. I thought about his struggles and contributions to democratic processes in Uganda. I decided he was my hero!

He is a man I will remember for sacrificing his life in the quest for democratic change. With patience and relentless commitment to a cause. A people’s cause! He has awakened and inspired Ugandans to raise against false and forced rule and demand for their rights in the face of life threatening oppression.

Corruption and oppression are built within the state machinery and perpetrated by the very people who otherwise would preserve and promote democratic practices. A top leadership that cheats its political opponets off their victory. Indeed, it is what he has withstood. The tragic trials our country’s democracy has gone through these last thirty years that bring me to the conclusion you are about to read.

No doubt the man called Besigye has seen it all but persisted against brutality wielded by the nation’s armed forces at the call of a dictator.

Kiiza Besigye alongside many other determined Ugandans has be brave and very brave. He will not regret anything in his life because he made a justified struggle. I saw it in both his eyes and spirit that he wanted to liberate Uganda from an outdated ‘liberator’. A self serving man who has many time left me wondering where he came from and why he hates Donald Trump’s best shit hole country that much!

I consider him the God Father of the civil, political and social activism which Uganda bears witness to today.

With true patriots standing to the enemies of the people and saying enough is enough even if you torture us. Fighting a purely people’s cause and not lead by greed for material things or power, bearing in their minds the understanding that the good of the whole is greater than the good of the parts, I think that we will one day get there!

The small landlocked country on the Eastern side of the continent will one day receive that long awaited and well earned redemption fully paid for in advance through the dark years of political turmoil and enemies of the people seeking to glorify themselves and reward their own with national resources.

I know that Kiiza Besigye is a key actor who has not been given the kind of  credit which I think he deserves. I therefore have decided to acknowledge him while he still lives so that he knows that his struggles have inspired me. I am talking about the episodes of Besige and the Forum for Democratic Change and its role in giving rise to Bobi Wine’s People Power. History is being written and I hope that when victory comes, we remeber this man as one who inspired the greatest courage that the Ugandan opposition based on to put up any kind of resistance against the enemies of the people. I also believe strongly that these people will be defeated some day.

I have an assumption that all African dictators are above fifty years and no more dictators are being born on the continent so when the enemies of the people are finally all dead but never forgotten because of their excessive use of force, none of the successive generations will rise to be a dictator. That is the reason why we support the causes because we think that the cause is in our interests as often politicised. Remember that people fed and hide the enemies of the people throughout the history of liberation struggles. With the assumption that those enemies would actually remain friendly just as they are during the struggles. Unfortunately people forget too soon when greed takes over.

Not even the plants get to enjoy any peace.

A mother’s dream for her child.

Long before conception, you dream and pray to God that one day he may bless you with a child.

You pray for a blessing not a curse!

You dream about how beautiful or handsome she or he will be.

In your mind you play games together. All sorts of games from which only the sunset can relieve you.

You envision that even in old age you will be playing and laughing as though the clock hasn’t ticked for a second.

You look for the most suitable partner who will not only accompany you on the life’s long journey but one who will also be the world’s  best father to your priceless jewellery.

You do the search personally and keenly.

It proves to be the toughest part but you triumph. The firmness of maternal purpose is in you.

You carefully lay every footprint with the hope and prayer that your child to come will simply follow you step by step.  

The thoughts of your happy lives together fill each day with brightness and colours.

You simply imagine nurturing and guiding duties as natural and God given.

You prepare yourself both physically and mentally to protect that precious person from whatever will come their way. Mouse or elephant, black, white or coloured, you will be there.  

You pray and hope nothing ever goes wrong except your old age.

Your heart cooks the hottest pot of love to shower the most precious person in your life to be.

With a heart packed with joy, your wildest dream is to be the world’s best mother.

Your quest is much but the reward is priceless: the righteousness of your precious child.

A mother’s dream for her child.

By Kazooba Susan