The red earth remembers my name,
whispers it in the dust that rises,
welcoming me home, not as I was,
but as I have become.
The streets hum, alive with rhythm,
voices colliding like rivers meeting,
the scent of Indian chai thick in the air,
folding memory into the morning breeze.
I return to a place both known and strange,
where past and present press against each other,
a city growing taller, reaching forward,
yet haunted by the echoes of what once stood.
Footsteps trace the roads of my childhood,
but the shade is gone,
trees felled, laughter softened,
the land shifting beneath me.
Still, I belong to this soil,
this pulse of Kampala,
where change marches onward,
but home still calls me by name.
Categories:
kampala, change, emotions, home, life,
Form: Free verse
Oh Uganda—
The crane with wings
Spread them wide and fly
Let the wind sing.
Let that shield and spear shine
For you dwell in a land so divine.
With love you all are bound
Let your light be fine.
Shine, oh Uganda, shine
For now is the time
To polish your spear
And get your shield to shine.
From the bustling streets of Kampala
To the far ends of the savannah
Let your rich culture light the way
Shine, oh Uganda, shine.
Categories:
kampala, 12th grade, africa,
Form: Rhyme
Great performance on the piano
And it gave her a Murano.
Last year, it was her soprano
And it grabbed the wealth of Ono.
Now wears Japanese Kimono,
As if there's no tomorrow
In their still quite safe Comorro
But with kimono not Chinese,
Let alone by half Nipponese.
Soon shall she be in Kampala
To perform but meet Impala...
Life warranting testimony
And she'll make it Antimony
Categories:
kampala, celebration, integrity, money,
Form: Rhyme
To the Darkened
What happened?
to that sweet voice,
those of the great States men;
I.K Musazi, Apollo M.O, Grace Imbingira
those that!
Engineered, ostracized, defiance and rejection.
Through the streets of Kampala-mukkade,
Yet with an enthusiasm of high fledged patriotism spirit
Embedded, and flourished in their hearts
Those who erected the concrete foundations...
By whom the national anthems, were composed,
R.I.P G.W. Kakoma,
Those, who highlighted the values of integrity,
Eliminated mediocrity and blurred the verses
Of nationalism, to all nationalists
The phrases were articulate with sweet scented songs to the ears,
Of men, who truly were ready grasped them, swooping
Their delightful speeches.
For the times;
Are but a rift and narrow straight
As we stand in a bliss.
Categories:
kampala, africa,
Form: Free verse
Karugyembe
Hungry children, each the height of a bucket
Bloodshot eyes
Unshed tears
Rugs stitched together to clothe their bony bodies
Shallow pockets
Not a penny at hand
False confidence
Unfulfilled promises
The pot-bellied politician served his hot air
And fled
Lest his eyes should be scooped out by a hungry populace.
Kampala
Hungry children,
Mothered and fathered by humans incognito
Nurtured and sharpened by the hospitable streets
Hands, thin like wire mesh
Palms stretched out
Begging for anything edible
Empty pockets
And narrower brains, perhaps
A learned people
Screaming in tongues incoherent
Praying to gods unknown
For deliverance from the den they plunged themselves into;
A life president
Jesus wept
So do we .
Categories:
kampala, abuse, africa, anger, anti
Form: Blank verse
In Kampala African queen lives
In Johannesburg African queen sleeps
In Nairobi African queen smiles
In Lagos African queen sings
In Kinshasa African queen dances
In Addis Ababa African queen debates
In Juba and Mogadishu Africa queen weeps
To Kigali and Accra African queen flies
In Churches African queen prays
In supermarkets African queen works
In airships African queen flies
In foreign lands African queen creates
Beautiful African queen wake up
The world you adore selectively cares
Do not be notorious in beauty and elegance
But lacking in self-esteem to live own life
African queen, the world harvests you dearly
Reject the trash offered and grab the grains
Categories:
kampala, africa, beauty, metaphor, song,
Form: Lyric
I feel for the innocent victims
The ones brutally eliminated
Future and ambitions in tombs
Why is humanity against humanity?
I feel for the innocent victims
The ones butchered without mercy
Nations offended, nations mourning
Why is humanity against humanity?
I feel for the innocent victims
The ones made less human and gone
Killed without any crime committed
Why is humanity against humanity?
I feel for the innocent victims
In London, Paris, Kabul, Kampala, Boston
Sent away from earth with no ceremony
Why is humanity against humanity?
I feel for the innocent victims
With parents, friends, relatives wailing
For the loved deleted for reason unworthy
Why is humanity against humanity?
I feel for the innocent victims
With determination and universal love
Sharpen swords of wisdom and brotherhood
Why wait? Today is the time tomorrow late
Civilized World, all of us with God, rise up,
Let us defend humanity against blind hatred
Categories:
kampala, song, sorrow, sympathy,
Form: Elegiac Lyric
A flight of birds
Flaunt their enormous wings
Spying the light blue skies,
Of a city protected by trees
Whose sheer leaves
Dance with the January breeze
That hovers over
A people of different origins
A chrysalis unborn,
Wrapped tightly with love
Soon to flourish into a butterfly
This city is,
Of men and women
That toil in light and darkness
In strife for success
Thousand cyclists dot the downtown alley
Where potholes wait still,
Like crocs in a shallow river,
Preying a stray leg,
Or a taxi from a valley of hundreds
That,
From atop their harbor
Evokes in me
The feel of a king facing his people
Twilight sluggishly descends
Upon a tired city,
Ushering in the night lights
That glow of cedar upon the girls of the night,
The streets are quiet yet lively,
With music, liquor stores,
and casinos,
Stray dogs and vagabonds Populate the night,
Clearing the streets of the day's trash
I could still wake,
Oblivious of the morning sun,
Dazed from last night
And still know I'm in this lovely city
That bares untold stories
Of men that fostered it's blossom.
Isaac.O
Categories:
kampala, january,
Form: ABC
Perched on the shore of Lake Victoria
Is Speke....
Of its beauty I will speak
In any place I shall be
Granite stones chopped into bricks
Layered one upon another....glued by cement
"Monomutapalian architecture perfected" on the shore of Lake Victoria...
Of its hospitality I will tell
To all l shall meet
"Welcome" to me they said..."feel free"
This is your room...they guided
Some faults I saw
That prompted me to enquire...
"Do not worry"...they reassured..."this is Speke"
Warmly they pronounced..."You are our honorable guest"...
"We upgrade you to an Executive Suite"
"Do I have to add another cent?"...I wondered
"Nay" they said to my disbelief
"Come this way...this is where you will stay...
'til the closure of the errand that flew you here!"
Categories:
kampala, holiday,
Form: Narrative