Thou Should Not Laugh At One’s Hustle.

If people really knew what a hustle can be. A real-life hustle on the streets; no job, no ‘connected relatives’, no cents for a meal but just you against the odds then they wouldn’t be laughing at this picture. Waking up to go out and hope lady luck shines on you that day. Living each day as it comes. Survival!

This photo was posted on Facebook where people found a lot of amusement in it & cracked all sorts of jokes about it. I don’t know whether it’s his fault to end up like this (hopefully not) but I think the people who laughed at this boy wherever they are, are living too lit a life, they don’t know what the hustle part of life really feels like. The dude doesn’t look like he was living a life on the beach, does he?

When you can’t even afford to find a building to get into to hide from the rain, can’t afford a car to board so that by the time it reaches your destination, it’s stopped raining nor do you have a relative or even a friend with an office where you can casually stroll in to shelter from the rain. You can’t just enter a Kampala restaurant & sit without ordering a soda because then, your transport money will be gone. Imagine walking home on mud-filled roads, cold bitten. That kind of situation where your last resort is to drop all your swag & prop yourself up a phone booth to shelter from the rain.

That is a real hustle life and people who found amusement in this picture, may God give them all they desire because I am not sure what they would do to their lives if tables turned.  

The hustle is real out here in case y’all ain’t opened your eyes wide enough to see it you privileged homo sapiens. Such situations are things we don’t laugh about it. Periodt.

Thinking. Missing. You.

So many times I think about you. I think about your lips & I want to kiss you. To hold you, when I think about those moments when I have you, when I had you. I wanna hug you. So tight, get fused to you. Angler fish. Your hands, I want to hold them. Your forehead to kiss it. Spank that #$% when you bend it.

I wish to, that I can rewind it over again. Don’t you? Want to step into it with me? How couldn’t you?

I miss you as you’re not here, let’s not even argue about it. I want to dance with you under the sky, the stars are our witness. Your love to me is a weakness. I can’t rest. I am restless. So young and restless. Got me in some sort of love trance. Stuck on replay. Iyaz.

I love you baby, this is the truth that you can’t erase.

The Other Man

In the dead of the night, she twisted & turned until she woke up in a startle. Feeling hot & sweating with a feeling of uncertainty. 

She looked at her companion sleeping next to her. She could only make out his outline in the dark, but the only thing she was sure of was that this wasn’t the man she was in love with. 

She’d thought that she did but now her gut finally opened up to what everyone else knew. She’d fought it but today, tonight, at this moment, she realized the truth. She’d lied to herself. The man that slept alone somewhere else, was actually the one, She, Really, Loved.

Day 21 winterabc2021. Love. The Feeling That Killed Him!

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Finally closing off this year’s Afrobloggers winterabc2021 with a fictitious story inspired by true events. It’s been a wonderful but challenging ride discovering wonderful writers, learning from so many people, and enjoying my time all the while. As I bow out today, I am leaving you a story of how I felt when I had my heartbroken.

Like a defeated lion, like a stalking shadow, he walked on the dimly lit streets. His head hunched into the upturned collar of the coat that donned him. He was not like its owner. It is like it wore him. Dr. Strange. He bent forward and forged his way into the wind that was blowing hard on him. Hurricane. It was all chills around him. But strangely, the cold came from the center of his heart. The organ that led to the pain that he was in right now. People around him though lived in a different world. They seemed at ease. Like they were enjoying the weather. Lovers walked by hand in hand. He occasionally stopped to look. To look at the bodies of lovers that were happily walking by. Hand in hand, dancing, leaning against walls, embracing in dark corners or walking so close to each other they nearly dissolved into one body. He was swelled with envy, anger, pain. Hate. He was saddened. His heart had turned black and blue. Unpleasant. His eyes welled and reddened & occasionally sniffled back a tear. The shades he wore across them hid all that he did not want people to see. They swelled with tears. It was evident that he was troubled. Anyone could see it. He was like a beaten-up silhouette of a man who once loved. He looked like a man who had been there before. But just like the wind, it seemed to all have blown away. Vapor.

This was a man who in a few years past was in the best relationship that had ever happened to him. It was all he lived for. He breathed for. This relationship was…was his life. And like the end of life, it was dead now.

There were numerous questions in his mind right now. It had turned into a buffet cooking pot of thoughts. It was a war zone in there. He could not believe in reality. But unfortunately, this was it. The lonely reality.

He could not believe all the things that his mind kept playing back from his memory. Like a reel, the scenes occasionally came playing again & again. Stuck on replay. The questions that he kept asking himself were harder than any test paper he had ever sat. But when did love questions ever been any easier anyway? Across the street, he saw a guy kissing his girl goodbye & as he was walking past a building step, a young couple sat on the higher steps talking animatedly judging from the gestures the guy’s hands were making in the air. She was laughing hysterically. It was then that he asked himself;

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What exactly had gone wrong? Where did he really go wrong? He thought he had it all but then what? How haven’t they been through it all? And a clean sheet he kept. Always coming straight to her every day without tripping anywhere else. How haven’t they been there for each other? It was like a real marriage minus the rings or vows to it. But it all seemed it was not enough to make everlasting memories?

She had elevated him. Made him float up there. Walking on clouds. Flying on the wings of love. But then condemned him, all of a sudden. Just like that. Pontius Pilate.

Was it the price he was paying for loving her with the whole of his life? For making her the fore center of his being, hopes & dreams?

Oh how he loved her. Oh how he breathed & lived her. How he wanted & needed her.

Why? That was the question. Why would she have to punish him like this? Why?

Up to this point, he still got breakdown moments. He, like Jesus, wept. Cried. Like a baby, he soaked his bed in tears. He hated himself. He hated so many things. 
It was the most inhumane thing he had ever experienced. But that’s the decision the lady had made & he had to count his losses.

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He now understood why we meet people that are so broken they can hardly love. It’s because of moments like this. The burden that was put on an innocent soul that we meet after. 
How could she fall back on all the things she has always warned him about? Don’t fall back to your ex, don’t fall out of love with me quickly, you seem like you’ll wake up one day & leave me, you don’t love me enough. Why? 

But now he was sorry. Sorry for not loving her enough to make her stay. For being jealous for something that he wanted. Her. The thought of another guy doing things to her that he used to. The pain that came with just thinking of that made him shiver. He thought he could be around for a time hoping that she may change her mind. That’s true love right there. For he loved her with the whole of his life & heart & cried a very long time for her absence for she had given him two years of the best his life has ever had & it was this year that he was even to love her more. Now he had to live with the loss every second of every minute of every hour of every day of every week of every month of this year. 

She said that she had gone where she was happier. He remembered when they danced on the city streets. When they sat on building steps and jazzed. Held hands as they were walking & kissed under the street lights or when they broke public rules & got caught up in a city mall mess. He remembered her birthday when the deejay screamed out her name over the music, when they sneaked up an incomplete building & made love low key. The times they made 50 shades level of love. With music in the background & how they moved their bodies to the beat. Oh the sweat & the heat.
The PDA at rolex stalls. Beating their own eggs & cutting up their own cabbages. The fried eggs. Sausages. The movie nights? Do they now enjoy them like we did? Cuddling while the film rolled? Laughing at the actor’s jokes (Oh no, they’re beating him with sausages) & play rewind? Trying to hide tears when the sad parts come on. How he hated The Thundermans. The little unannounced gifts for being the great girlfriend that he knew there was. Maybe the cuddling is sweet. No lights but just the two of them. At peace in the dark. Talking about anything. Talking about their ex’s. Oh shit! Ex’s? He wondered whether he was now a part of their conversations. He wondered what she was telling the new guy about him. That he used to make her happy? Made her dance & dub him too? That he used to calm her thoughts when she was troubled? Or she is telling him of his weaknesses? That he had ugly night shirts? Whether she now had a fav new music genre. Away from EDM.
Whether he complimented her of how nice & hot she looked in or out of them clothes? Cuddling from behind in front of the mirror? Embracing tightly & dancing in the living space when they were getting back from a fight?

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Does he spank her ass too? Like he used to like it or maybe she’s also started spanking his too & he tries to jump away from it & tell her “They don’t spank guys’ butts” Nope. They don’t honey.” While wriggling the ka finger. Whether they also make aside jokes at people? Quoting them & acting them out in their free time like, “hmm, I love cake.” 
The love letters. Oh my. Does he love writing too? So now she has another little box where she keeps them with love & reads them once in a while or she’s already tossed away his from the little box & replaced them? Door mail? 
Do they have initials now? Has he met her family already? Do they find him charming? 

Losing her, he lost the most valuable thing/ person in his life. When they broke up, he wanted to do all the crazy things people in that situation usually do. Things he’s always warned others about. He sprinkled water over his face when entering the house to not notice the tears in his eyes. He started walking with shades everywhere for that same reason. He cried so much his eyes shrunk in & hurt. At one point through all this blinding pain, he thought that maybe life should end & as he stepped into the road to cross to the other side, he did not see the car that was turning the corner & reaching mid-way into the street, he felt a heavy force goring into his ribs & felt his body hoisted into the air. By the time he woke up, he was staring at a bleeding, lifeless shell of a man on the tarmac. People were gathering around it and in a few moments, a bright light showed up from above. Surprisingly, he was the only one that could see it. Bodies in white came to him & together, started on a journey to heaven. He was finally free of earthly pain.

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Day 5 Of The Afrobloggers #WinterABC2021What Should be the Mood For Social Media?

Do not post your issues on social media”. It is childish to put your problems out there. Find a way to address them”. This is advocacy & activism week of the #winterABC2021 & we’re post to be standing up for something. Today I am standing up for those who personally & or physically have no one to talk to but social media & against those who always find amusement in shutting them down.
We have come across posts of this kind in our different Social Media. Where people are dictating on others about what to post yet I have never seen it recommended anywhere when I am opening accounts on any social media that “Thou shall only post content where thee are happy so that you can please they? Have you? If you have, please send me the screenshot, the link. I need to be woke.


Therefore, I have come to realize that we our very own selves are the ones that are fueling the depression that we keep trending around. We are the ones that keep asking where humanity is headed to yet we are the ones that keep fuelling it low key. Why are we forcing people to keep up with a lifestyle that they cannot afford? Borrowing clothes to look lit, forcing to hangout in places where they cannot afford to be. Girls sleeping for
tickets to events just to keep up appearances. Like as if there is a prize for having the flyest social media account on line.


How can someone come out seeking help and the best we can do is to tell them that it is childish to bring forth our ‘dark’ issues online. That they are best resolved off of the internet. I thought it’s called social media for a reason not please me media. How does that even work? Where are our hearts? Where is our humanity? The world is destroying itself slowly by slowly. People on suicide through depression and we’re telling people that when they post their issues they are childish? When people come out for help and we tell them that it is childish, so when are we going to help them? What is a mature person supposed to post? I need a memo. Are we even intending to help them? Are we even worthy of being friends? If you cannot help someone then shut the fuck up, scroll away and ignore. You may just as well unfriend them and keep the happy lot that are
entertaining you on your TLs.

Depression is a killer and when someone comes out depressed them you say it ain’t real.
People are out there depressed. People are out there suffering. People are out there fighting their demons and instead of bringing them closer, we are busy calling them childish? Maybe before someone friends you you should tell them to also keep it sunny.


Just because you can silently afford to handle your issues silently doesn’t mean anyone else can. Just because you have contacts that at one click away can help you out doesn’t
mean any one else does. We are not at the same point in life. We do not have the access to the same resources, cool friends and supportive families. Nope. We are different. And so by the time someone comes out for help then it is deep. Then it is real. People are
suffering. People are desperate. People are hurting. People are abused, bruised and stripped. Cheated. Betrayed. People are depressed.
We are destroying ourselves. We are destroying humanity. Discrediting it. So unless we listen and offer some help, we should just shut the fuck up and stop talking about depression any way. Are you the social media police officer in charge of happiness?
For this matter, if you are out there depressed and need someone to listen to you, you can hit me up in my DM. I may not be in position to help you financially or physically but I will listen and talk to you best way I can. I hear “You’re posting childish”. Fuck
you. Yes I am pissed so bad I am boiling. God.