Kanyindo's Random Ramblings

So another picture of a young lady having a very unfortunate wardrobe malfunction has been doing the rounds on social media. In case you haven’t seen it, you will be fine.  But put it this way, she had decided to go commando and a gust of wind and a slight bend at the knees decided to bog in her plot. Now, I’m not judging anyone who has had a ‘nip-slip’ or an incident similar to the one I described above (let’s call it a fanny faux pas, shall we?).  There are just a few things that cross my mind whenever we are assailed with pictures of people ‘accidentally’ flashing their bits. 1.        Going Commando- I see absolutely nothing wrong with this.  If you feel the need to go knickerless and natural, by all means! Let it breathe! However, SIT/STAND PROPERLY!!  As in, unless your intention is to flash the world, keep your legs closed and wear something long enough to keep your bits tucked away from the naked eye. 2.  ...

I’ve been told that I give people the wrong impression, particularly on Twitter. Let me explain. You know how it is that you can just be minding your own business, trawling the TL, and someone tags you in a post deemed flirtatious or forward? Or you post something totally innocuous but it is taken off in a completely unexpected direction?  Or people just. Don’t. GET IT?! I know it’s happened to you, too. How much of what you tweet do you think determines the way people communicate with you?  How much control do you think you have, short of blocking or muting people, over the tweets you receive? I’m not talking about people who post explicit pictures of themselves, or the so-called ‘thirsty tweets’ that often take over the TL.  I think if you post that kind of content, you’re bound to attract a certain type of feedback, and shouldn’t be surprised if you do. As someone who, in my own humble opinion, tweets a fair amount of nonsense, as well as pictures ...

I remember when I had just moved back to Uganda, someone told me that I shouldn’t smile so much, because people would get the wrong idea. “Siima stop over smiling-smiling at people, you will give yourself problems,” she said. At first, in my naivety, I thought she meant that if I kept walking around with a smile on my face, people would think I was touched in the head. But no.  She meant, and specifically in reference to men, that if I ‘over-smiled’, guys would think that I was up for it and they would approach me with that in mind. I was slightly taken aback by this, and I’ll explain why. I grew up mostly in England, where it is considered polite and very common place to smile and/or nod when you happen to pass a person and make eye contact.  I’m not talking about a toothy, my-what-big-pearly-whites-you-have, come-closer-so-I-can-bite-you smile. Just a simple turning up of the lips, in a ‘Hello, fellow human being’, kind of way. Now, I’ve always been ...

It is finally Thursday, and I think I can safely say I cannot WAIT for this week to end. It’s just been a bad one, for various reasons.  I wasn’t feeling too well, but due to the nature of my job I have to slap a smile on things and get on with it.  No one wants to hear a misery-guts on radio first thing in the morning.  Besides, if there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, everyone is fighting their own battle anyway, so you just need to suck it up and do what you have to. I’m so thankful that I made it through the week with my faculties intact, I had to draw up a Gratitude List, because everything that happened this week made me realize just how lucky I am. Let me break it down. ·         I am grateful that my parents taught me manners.  Simple courtesy.  This week I have had to deal with some of the most loud-mouthed, rude and inconsiderate people I have ever come across.  It’s quite mind-boggling. · ...

It’s been a while since I’ve felt inspired enough to write. Ok, I lie.  Since the last post, so much has happened. SO. MUCH.  But more and more started happening, I found myself caught in a snowball that kept rolling.  And it got harder and harder for me to sift through everything and actually write something worth sharing.  (Sometimes it really is better for me to keep my thoughts to myself.  Trust me on this). Until today. I came across a picture of my siblings and I from way back when, dancing.  I think we were doing the Macarena.  The picture cracked me up, not only because I couldn’t believe that I’d ever been that small (once upon a time, I had a waist!), but because I can only just remember a time when my little brother was shorter than me.  It also brought on a rush of nostalgia as all memories involving my late Dad do. Anyway, it got me thinking about the one New Year’s resolution I made at the start of 2015- the Gratitud...

Day 1 Fort Portal We arrived in Fort Portal on Thursday evening. The journey was good, apart from the fact that our coaster broke down several times. But the view more than made up for it.  Once we entered Kabarole, I was totally blissed out by how beautiful it is. Nothing but luscious green everywhere. Once again, I found myself holding back from screaming ‘’STOP THE BUS!!” and running out to inhale the delicious air. The sight of the tea fields is one that everyone should experience at least once in their lives. Once we arrived, we checked out Garden Restaurant, where the auditions were to take place, and then made our way to Travellers’ Inn where we would be staying.  I had been here two years previously, so was confident that my stay here would be much better than in Lira. I wasn’t disappointed. The rooms here have an old colonial feel to them. Little balconies, carpets, bathtubs. It’s so old ...

I never met Rosemary Nankabirwa. But I feel so sad at her passing. I feel sad that she succumbed to a disease we are still trying to beat. I feel sad that whoever took the time to announce her death on Twitter couldn't take the time to spell check. I'll put it down to grief. I feel sad that people tried to gain cheap popularity off of her illness. I hope she knew how many people turned out, in their own small way, to help. I hope she knew she was respected and admired. I hope God hears our prayers for her and for her family. I hope. When you lose someone, the world falls out from under your feet. I hope her family is given the time and space they need to grieve and remember her, away from the media, away from those who want to use this to their own advantage. I hope we all learn more about this terrible disease. I hope our government does more to make treatment available for all, regardless of social status. I hope. Rest, Rosemary. You fought your fight.

You'd think that people would have had enough of silly love songs. That's the opening line to Silly Love Songs by Wings, one of my all-time favourites. Apart from the fact that I love the melody, it is such a true statement! Love songs are responsible for too much heartache and longing in this world. I've written about them before ( see Don't Take That Love Song Literally ), so I won't ramble on too much here. I grew up listening to music.  Music with themes far beyond my years, describing experiences I had no business singing about. I remember the days when I'd be listening to a song about missing the one you love, or having your heart broken.  And I would long to have someone to miss, or someone to love, or someone to break my heart so that I could actually fully empathise with the pain in the singer's voice.  In those days, my closest experience to a boy expressing even minor interest in me was that shitty kid at school who would trip me...

Day 3- Second Day of Arua Auditions So, today was D-Day for our 3 finalists from yesterday.  They were pretty good and really brought it today, dressed like the stars they are determined to be.  At least the girls were.  The one male contestant is a mellow fellow, but has a unique rasp to his voice that Esther, Ken and I were all more than impressed with. I'm trying to avoid posting spoilers, so you'll just have to watch the show when it airs on Urban TV soon. My wardrobe malfunction aside (managed to splash myself with water before going to the audition room and had to do a last minute change.  This is not a wet t-shirt contest, after all) everything started off well.  Bush made the judges do some interviews, and then we were good to go. To be honest, I don't have much to report on today because it all went by so fast and without incident. No wait, I lie. Two guys came by and begged to audition even though they had missed the first day and we don't ...

Day 2- First Day of Auditions Arua We had an early start today. After a delicious but slightly rushed breakfast washed down with copious amounts of coffee, it was time for the judges to sit in front of the camera for their Q&As. I normally dread sitting directly in front of the camera, but there was so much joking around and photobombing by the crew that it was over before I even knew it.  After explaining what I personally was looking forward to on the first day of Arua auditions, I found a quiet corner and called the Xfm studio to deliver my Luganda tweet.  My co-hosts Rudende and Libolo clearly thought they would get away with it, seeing as I was in another part of the country but no chance. Once I had successfully translated my Luganda tweet to the benefit of the nation at large (ahem) it was time to head to Arua 1 for a quick interview.  I am happy to report that I learned how to say 'good morning' and 'my name is Siima' in Lugbara! Don't ask me to pr...

Day 1- Travel to Arua Finally the day we’d been waiting for was here! I woke up bright and early as usual, having packed the night before. I got to the office at the agreed time, to find only one other person there… and no coaster. Coaster eventually arrived, after several slightly irritated phone calls, and those of us who were on site got in. I picked my usual spot by a window (easy access to breeze, wistful gazes out the window and elephant spotting- more on that later) and went through my iPod playlist to ensure my #RoadTripMusic playlist was set (more on that later too). I would name and shame the late-comers, but I’m feeling kind today, so I won’t. We finally set off almost two bloody hours late, by which time I was already bored and feeling the beginnings of pins and needles in my bum. I figured that Jesus would come back before we reached Arua, but he held off his return. Thanks, JC. I can’t report much on the start of ...

Earlier this year I had a sudden burst of inspiration and managed to churn out several Haikus.  Not perfect by any stretch of the imagination.  But it was fun.  Here they are. Four pretty apples Tempting me to take a bite Where's the poison though? ****** Idris Elba rocks He'd look good in just his socks I wish he'd tweet me ****** (post-schnide comment) Put me down gently I'm not as strong as I look The harshest words hurt ********* (joy in little things) Bright pink nail polish Happiness in a glass vial Drips from my fingers ****** (love) I can feel your breath Leaving invisible marks On my tickled neck ****** (always pointing fingers) Doesn't really matter Either way it's all my fault But let's share the blame ******* (more love) Tiny little streams of joy Trickling down my outstretched arms Longing to hold you ********

I read an article yesterday that almost turned me pink with fury. The main gist of this article was that black women with natural hair are insecure and would feel much prettier if their hair was straight, relaxed, or in a weave. Before I kick off on a rant, I think I should point out that the article mentioned a study conducted by a cosmetics company which had spoken to at least 3,000 black women, 2,500 of whom allegedly attested to feeling much more attractive when their natural hair was either chemically straightened or covered by a weave. As a woman with natural hair, either worn in an Afro or in a protective braided style, it goes without saying that I was not only offended by this article, but struck by the lie it is trying to sell. I decided to go natural BECAUSE I feel more confident this way. And I have never felt better. I used to relax my hair.   I first had my hair relaxed when I was 13 years old. Enduring two hours of physical and financial agon...

I am continuing in my quest to find something to be grateful for every single day.   Yesterday, by virtue of the fact that it was a Monday, wasn’t so great.   There were a few highlights though. I woke up this morning determined that today would definitely be a better day.   Just when someone was trying to steal my joy, I put my headphones on, put some Kate Bush on repeat, and drew up my grateful list for the day so far.   Here goes: ·          I talk to my big sisters every single day.   As in, if it’s not a call, there’s an email, and definitely several Whatsapps that fly back and forth.   We have a group chat that always cracks me up.   They are two of the craziest, funniest ladies I know. ·          I watched the Man U/Liverpool game with my brother at the weekend.   And he ignored my whooping and hollering and dancing around the coffee table without ...

So I had a bit of a rant yesterday about the way some of my fellow women communicate. But I think fellas have a thing or two to learn as well. I’ve never subscribed to the school of thought that a real man is a stoical, hard-as-nails human being who never shows emotion and just goes through life ‘dealing’ with whatever and whomever life throws at him. Men aren’t machines at the end of the day, and have emotions just like everyone else. Ok, I’m not saying that I’d be completely understanding if my dude wept, tore his clothing and poured ash on his head each time his favourite football team lost, but still.   Some emotion is fine. I remember when my grandfather passed away.   My family was living in Zimbabwe at the time, and only my Dad was able to travel back to Uganda for the funeral.   That is the only time in living memory I saw my Dad shed a tear- it was just a single one down his cheek, and I only noticed it because he reached down to pick me up...