Tuesday, January 17, 2006


The other night I had the most fascinating nightmare. I had bought a car and my uncle who knows cars and I took it out for a spin. In my day it was called a road test. So Uncle A and I were out driving about and we turned off the main road onto the kisaasi road which leads to my home and I kinda wanted to slow down except when I went to pump the brakes they were not responding, which I did not tell him, until much later when they finally kicked in coz boy, was that scary!!

So anyway I tell uncle how long it’d taken for the brakes to kick in and he was like “kawa, I know a garage in the ‘hood, we go they sort u out”, ok, a garage in the depths of kisaasi…what'd you know? He then gives me the weirdest directions to the end of the road literally. We end up in this area with like really old houses; you know the kind with a veranda all round it and wooden shutter like windows. These houses made Old Kampala look like Naalya.

Then he goes like branch off into this forested glade, we’re going to leave the car here and go find this dude on foot. Yeah I know what you’re thinking but it was my dream so my story and I’m going to tell it just the way I like. Nga we enter this …glen where the trees overhead are so high they block out the sun but there’s like this eerie light around us. And the smell of tobacco, the unprocessed kind. There also seemed to be a lot of people sitting around looking ill.

I didn’t get it not even when people were talking about Jajja coz I’m thinking the mechanic is here too getting his groove on or whatever. Then I ask Uncle how much I’m going to shell out for this mechanic dude and he goes like, “whatever you have, you leave for him”, whatever I have? Who’s this guy? A Buddhist priest? Coz the mechanics I know – actually Ziwa who does the company cars – take an arm and a leg, all the way up to the hip joint.

Wait, isn’t that longhaired Johnnie, my dog from High school? What he doing here? Well, obviously conferring with that shaggy haired dude of indeterminate age who’s pulling on a corncob pipe. Wonder what they're talking about? Obviously not St. Paul’s choir which Johnnie conducts. Ok, he’s coming my way, going to ask him what’s going on.

“Dude, what you doing here? Where is here anyway?
“Aaah, so you come here as well”
“Yeah whatever. What the fuck is this place?”
“This my friend is where we give respect to our Africaness”
“….umph what?”
“Oh you didn’t know? Well forget that white man psychobabble; this here is the real shiznit. This here…”
“…is a fucking shrine!”
“Aaaaah… yes. What did you think it was?”
“Walusimbi’s garage. Obviously! And if I want to give props to my Africaness, I put on the Best of Afrigo CD!”

At which point I sought out my uncle who was beginning to look pissy-pissy from the contents of that gourd he was imbibing copious amounts of. Told him what the fuck was up and he just shrugged, told me I could be a nice camper and join the club (by getting my car baptised, African religion and shit) or I could be a stuck up white-man's-religion-believer and leave, upon pain of all sortsa bad things coming down upon my head.

I thought about that for all of 20 seconds and told him, thanks for the offer of eternal driving pleasure but I’m out. There was a rabble dabble and a clap of thunder and a voice outta the mirror said… “Snoop you Motherfu…” sorry, that was from Doggy Style – some old school for y’all.
Anyways I left this …place…and suddenly all the helping hands we had met on our inward quest to get my new car’s brakes fixed were no longer there. I had to go all the way back to civilization to get a tow truck just to get my car outta there.

At which point I decided to stop ignoring the alarm and got outta bed. Soon as I got to the office I called Penny the resident bible basher and told her the whole story and she told me what I already knew. The Holy Spirit was talking to me and it was my duty to listen so when I eventually get that car I ordered off the Net, I will have it dedicated to the work of the Lord pronto. Then I asked her to call the peeps at FUFA for my Presentation on Communication Strategies and the moment was gone. Forever.

Funny but you know what my Prayer journal said for that day? “To pray incessantly, for the one who watches over us never slumbers, so no harm shall come to nary one hair of our head”.


Blogger Iwaya said...

okay, kafka is dead and he is the only one who would make sense of this. what exactly was all this about?

Wed Jan 18, 05:38:00 pm  
Blogger ish said...

fascinating... simply fascinatng... i always thought the devil was the opposite of God too, being Africna and all, however, to be the opposite of God, you'd have to be equal, meaning the devil can't be cuz he's not as powerful! i usually don't read every single blog, but this here is... fascinating...

Fri Feb 10, 03:03:00 am  

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