To Iwaya, the Cryptic. And DeT the Incorrigible

Why to the two of them?

deT wants me to write the things that I used to write about. About life as I saw it, and the things that make me tic.
Its hard. When I get involved in something like this gay rights thing, I become involved.

I have no regrets for that. I have realised that my self confidence has sky rocketed simply because I am so much more confident of my sexuality. So I affirm what I am. Because I cannot do it outside of cyber with impunity, I over-affirm it in cyber. Flush me, if you dare!!!!

But also, I get bored.

It is not the whole of me. It just aint the whole of me, activism. When I live, there is much more to life than the politics of who is calling me evil and who is not calling me that. I know that there will be people that I offend, and those I dont, and there are so many other things.

So, DeT [that terrible sis] decides to unleash anger. I listen, but, well, I am stubborn. And anger and coercion are exactly the wrong way to go about changing my mind...

But I do listen, though I just tend to find more reasons to do what I want to do.

Then comes Iwaya. Of Madandcrazy. Oh yeah, he was one of the first Ugandan bloggers to accept me. I like his style, and the fact that he stood up for me when I was such a newbee and strange, and no Ugandan wanted to make contact. He encouraged me.
As Comrade said, they were giving me the 'cold shoulder'. I was too strange, maybe.

Anyway, Iwaya has become cryptic and harder to understand. At least according to me! And he has at last bidden bye to the blog, or at least that is what it sounds like, and he points to another blog that he maintains once in a while.

I have just been there. I read through.

Personal. Strong, expressive. A gentle guide through his life. Good writing, in my book, but more. A guide on the hand, through what his life has been like.

I am no expert. Just note what I like. Always have, always will, most likely. But reading that made me remember that I am whole. A whole human being. My gayness may be important, but it is also part of what I am.

So, deT set me thinking. About what I was not writing about. Oh, of course there are other considerations. But she set me thinking.
Iwaya reminded me of what I wanted to do, some time ago on this blog.

So?

I am gay. And a human being. Always will be.

I can explore the beauty of life, while I use the blog to highlight the other things that I am.

I stummer. Means that I always am unsure whether a person understand exactly what I mean... So, yes, I dont know whether you understand me, . but there we are.

Of course I can mix the two things. Be myself, and at the same time, be an 'activist'! But isnt that the beauty of being a whole human being? I am not special. Just one of those people who happen to have a blog, and be living in Uganda. So, I can write about everything, and nothing. I can talk about my lover, and his foibles- or I may not. I can laugh and cry, and also show up people who hurt me, instead of loving me.

I can be what I am, a human being. Complete. Natural.

Once I wrote that life is not politics.

I just have to remember that, and gosh, already, I am feeling much happier about it.


GayUganda

Grey Day

The day is grey. Really grey.

I mean, the sun is not to be seen. A haze has settled over the valleys of Kampala, and even the hills seem to be wrapped in it. I am downtown, looking out towards Old Kampala hill. Cant see the green of the trees. It is a dark, shadow that sits where-ever the trees should be.

Grey Kampala. But bustling all the same.

It is supposed to be a national holiday. The ruling party. Odd. The party in power does have its own National day.

But there are quite a number of vehicles on the streets. And people. And movement, and- Kampala is its usual bustly self. I came with an umbrella because it was drizzling when I left home. Noticed that most people did not have them, and rightly so. My weather sense was telling me, despite the heavy overcast, the mist, and the drizzle, that it should be a hot and bright day. Yet to see whether I can still read that right.

Grey day.

Does not reflect what is in my mind. But there is a friend who seems to be having a grey time.
Iwaya. A cyber acquaintance. Met him here, and have been visiting his blog. Following his posts.
These posts, they reveal so much and so little of us. He was working in Southern Sudan, Juba. Seems both to love and hate the place. It is a tough posting. Rough place with minimal government. And we seem to have problems, as Ugandans working in Sudan. Horror stories.
Followed his posts through a return to Uganda for holidays, an apparent break up, returning to Sudan, and then the horror of a house fire where 9 Ugandans were burnt to death. 2 of them were his friends.

He writes beautifully. Lyrical. Kind of hard sometimes to know whether the emotions expressed are his. Yet they are too intense, too heartfelt to be someone else’s. In prose and poetry, he has told a story of his life. And he is in pain.

I feel it, too. Through his writing. Hope you’ll be okay, Iwaya. My prayers for you. May the problems be solved.


GayUganda