Sunday Evening

I think I owe you an update. Now that I can give it.

About a couple of weeks ago, I told you of an interview that I had with a reporter. And the fact that I was very apprehensive. I said then that I had rolled the dice, and did not have any control on how they landed.

Well, the interview was aired. On WBS-TV Sunday evening.

My debut on national television. Guess what, I was not anywhere near a television set!

It is hilarious. I was informed that the program was on the air, when I was on my way to a ‘joint’, a bar. We had left home when there was a power cut (they are becoming really common these days. Uncommonly common!), so we could not return. We continued to the bar.

Now, Sunday evening was special. Kampala, Uganda holds its collective breath when there is a major Premier League match being played. Forgive me, not the Ugandan Premier League- the English Premier League. What with the advent of satellite TV, and the fact that our local league had gained a terrible reputation, those who love the beautiful game (all Ugandans apparently) are usually tuned in.

I was informed that my debut on TV was imminent. I was impatient. How telegenic am I? That is a question any normal human being wants to know. Beamed miraculously into the homes of many Ugandans. I would have loved to see how suave I was. How collected and impressive!

Sadly, it was not to be. Most people on the streets were glued on the premiership match. Arsenal against Liverpool. Crowds in the bars where televisions sets were turned to the street to attract clientele. They stood on the sidewalks, and looked into the bars. I am not sure whether they bought anything. It was a tense match.

I don’t know when Liverpool scored the first goal. I know it was in the first half. Walking the street to my bar, there was this air of gloom. Little conversation, the tvs blaring, radio commentaries. The gloom of the evening was not in the low light. It was the atmosphere generated by so many people ‘feeling’ for Arsenal. I didn’t know that plucky club had such a following!

That was a detour.

About my telegenic self. I knew it was a risk to appear on tv. Too many uncontrolled variables. But I figured that it was worth it. Now with Pastor Ssempa arguing that we gay Ugandans were using HIV as entrée to gain acceptance. Of course we are. It is our lives on line. If we don’t wake up to the fact that we are dying slowly but surely, we will die. We must destroy those myths.

I know I have outed myself. One more time, that is, if you watched the WBS programme. If you didn’t, well, I don’t know how much you missed. I did not also!

When I got to the bar that I wanted to use, I found that there were two competing programmes. There was Arsenal vs Liverpool, the second half, and of course Maureen being ‘evicted’ from the Big Brother Africa 2 house. When I demanded that the channel be changed to see my self, I was woefully booed down. You know football fans. Anything about changing the channel at that moment is a capital crime offence. The punishment swiftly meted out.

I was in the bar when Arsenal equalised. The roar was deafening.

Thereafter, it was the match’s post-mortem. A verbal dissection of every move and counter move. Needless to say, my pleas for silence were not heard. Who wanted to hear about the risks of gay men and HIV?

I know I said my piece. And Ssempa said his piece, and the Uganda AIDS Commission said theirs. Yeah, you may have recognised me, or not, but then, that is a small price that I will pay. A progressively controlled outing to the whole of my Ugandan country mates.

To those who know my identity, please don’t use it as yet on this blog!!!! Let me retain that last bit of my anonymity!

GayUganda

PS. For the next week or so I may not post that regularly. Something has cropped up which needs my attention for the near future.

No, it is not the police at the door. The beauty of media is that once the broadcast is done, then one has to use legal means to check the discussion. Of course I am vulnerable in other ways, but those risks are bearable.

gug