Wedding Meeting Humor

Recently one of my closest friends from my university days was getting married and held wedding meetings. In spite of my busy schedule, I was fortunate enough to be a part of his second last meeting and much to my surprise, I did not feel coerced to give all the money in my wallet and walk home as is the norm. The general ambiance at the meeting was of warmth and humor with many of his friends cracking us up for most of the time we there. I expected nothing less as the groom is quite the comedian himself. However in this case he was a lot quieter than usual, I wondered whether the pre - wedding jitters had gotten a hold of him but the humor was too intoxicating for me to pay him much attention while at the meeting.

There was this fellow seated at the back and you would expect a back bencher (as they are commonly called) to typically be quiet and steer clear of attracting any attention to themselves. Much to the contrary, this lad was rambunctious and suave and you could tell he enjoyed being the life of the party. Mid way the meeting as we were collecting money to reduce the balance owed on the church fees for the service on the wedding, we were left with raising 250,000 when this fellow asked.

Ruckus Lad: “Let's ask the pastors son to mediate on our behalf so that we get a discount.”

He said this because of the young gentleman seated in front of him; who I quickly found out was the pastor’s son – the pastor who was going to wed the bride and groom.

We all burst out laughing but in my case it was because I found it refreshing that church folk were so lively and un - uptight as is the usual rhetoric when it comes to them. If you are wondering why I classed the wedding meeting members as church folk, it is because ¾ of them were the groom and bride’s church friends and they are a tight knit bunch.

Before we could fully recover, words shot out of the fellow’s mouth again and I thought to myself, how can anyone be this funny for free (after all comedy is a respectable profession in this day and age).

Ruckus Lad: “Can we get a discount if we ask them to switch off the lights in church?”
“Switch off the lights? How will we see the bride in her beautiful gown?” a lady promptly responded to which he had a rebuttal.

Ruckus Lad: “Bride, (he paused briefly before continuing) …and what about William, we may only be able to see his teeth.”

We were amused but for many of you reading this who have not met William, you would not really understand this joke. William is a 6 foot, dark chocolate brown Ateso (Eastern Uganda tribe) man with exceptionally white teeth so the ruckus fellow may have also meant this as a compliment.

After this 15 minutes unsolicited comedy break, the chairman finally took the reins back and continued with the next item on the budget.  We made good progress for 30 minutes or so only that it was now dark and a frog hoping in between the chairs where we sat almost brought the meeting to a halt. The ladies began to squirm in their seats and the chairman trying to get back our attention said,

Chairman: “If I see anyone jump out if their seat as a result of the frog hoping around you will be fined.” To which the audience giggled but only for a second when one lady could not contain it anymore and screamed as she jumped out of her seat and the ruckus lad responded,

“Yesu!” as he mimicked her. We laughed so hard that the chairman took 5 minutes to get us all settled down before he could continue.

As we drew to the end of the budget, the in house comedian realized that we had become too serious and moved closer to the font and offered to assist in auctioning the gift for the day. In the middle of giving a description of the articles contained in the wrapped gift, he caught sight of a late comer. She was hiding behind a shrub attempting to creep in without being noticed so she would not be fined. The fellow did a complete 360 turn and kept quiet drawing all out attention after which he briskly yelled.

Ruckus Lad: “2,000 Ugx for the audience member to remove her scarf from her hair.”

Someone responded, “There is no one wearing a scarf.”

Ruckus Lad: “Are you sure, you have not yet seen her hiding like a chameleon in the shrub behind?”

The scarf was deemed an article of witchcraft and she was fined for wearing it, not to worry though as someone else took matters into their own hands, took him on and offered to pay her fine.

That evening I had come from work very tired and exhausted but left this wedding meeting very rested and rejuvenated and extremely sad that I had to go home before it had come to a close. As I walked out, I left the chairman in trouble as the audience purchased his tie and then followed on to solicit for his belt which he declined to release.

Let’s just say that this will be one of my fondest memories of his wedding.

Music Industry Consortium Conference 2015 at Hotel Africana

Last month on 19^th May, I was privileged to attend the MIC 2015 at Hotel Africana which was organized by Bankable society in proud association with Yamaha, Ministry of Gender, Labor and social development, URA and NSSF. 

The conference began at 09:00am with a breakfast session where we had the opportunity to mingle with everyone else. I noticed that the musicians, music promoters stuck to their crowd as was the case with the digital media fraternity (bloggers, social media).

The morning session was a great deal of presentation from Richard Kawesa of Bankable society and Isaac Rucci on technical aspects of what why and how the association was to be formed and run. The Music Industry Consortium (MIC) is a private-sector led initiative that works with the Creative fraternity, the global business community and Government as its lead partners. MIC exists to facilitate the profitability of music business.

The chairman of music association in Uganda, highlighted that last year alone, the music industry generated 3billion UGX from electronic revenue but only 1.5 m UGX was collected which is an utter loss to the artists who earn a livelihood from their craft.

Sadly, the majority of the artists did not pay much attention to this session until we arrived at the selection of the executive which would handle the day to day execution of activities on the Music Industry Advisory Board under the MIC. 

The likes of the Eagles production lead songstress started off on her own conversation while Moze Radio finally stormed out with his 4 man entourage 40 minutes into the deliberations only to be found hanging out on the roof top at lunch time. Most of the music heavyweights did not turn up however much to my surprise, Bobi Wine graced the occasion and gave it the utmost attention for the entire morning session while he was there. So much so that he made each member of his entourage of 6 take note and share with him what they had personally learnt from it.

In the first 10-year-phase of MIC operations, M.I.A.B (Music Industry Advisory Board) will focus on finding solutions to the question of music profitability. These solutions will be guided by the resolutions that emerge from the annual Music Industry Conferences.

The theme of the conference was “the social, economic and political impact of music,” and the key note speakers were Doris Akol - Commissioner General URA, Richard Byarugaba – MD NSSF and Adenrele Niyi Project director AFRIMA (All Africa Music Awards).

In the afternoon, Commissioner General Ms. Akol presented a paper on the economic potential of the music industry in Uganda and there was an interactive session which followed as well as the rest of the speakers.

This in my opinion was the most telling session what the musicians’ take away really was, while a few of the attentive music artists asked questions, not everyone in attendance gave constructive input. A female veteran musician attempted to create controversy over who would manage the board and why they could not continue with the old and dormant association.

Isaac Rucci and Richard Kawesa addressed her concerns but this reminded me of why Uganda as a whole is not moving forward as briskly as it should in terms of development. The music fraternity is a wonderful example of where the problem is, much as there is a cross section of promoters and musicians who understand what needs to be done to move forward there is an equal number of the negative complainers who detest anything new whether it adds value to them or not.

A few of the questions asked by the musicians and music promoters can be seen below.

1.        Why do we pay tax for concert venue, promotional banners in the city and then on clearing our goods at customs (C.D’s, Cars)? Isn’t that over taxation?

2.       How are we supposed to make money and yet we are taxed from every side?

3.       How is the government protecting our income and source of livelihood using the copy write?

4.      How is electronic revenue going to be managed?

5.       Why doesn’t URA explain these costs to us in a session?

The questions listed above are just a limited spectrum of what was asked but the most beneficial feedback in my point of view came from Balam of Balam entertainment. 

After he extensively explaining issues to do with VAT monthly remittances, payment of annual tax returns to his fellow music promoters, musicians and bands present, he asked the URA and KCCA to generate a standard fee for concert venues. 


He highlighted the fact that musicians want to pay tax but they clearly need to be explained to about the taxes that directly affect them.

It was an eye opening session for many when NSSF MD followed informing the audience of opportunities for them to save as individuals for better financial management for their retirement. A few individuals had a follow session with him at the close of the event where they discussed the finer details of the saving plans. The moral of the story is we need to stop making excuses and start to sort out the issues to do with our music industry now so that we can reap the benefits of our hard work. Sadly, the heavyweights did not turn up to this event and when legislation is passed on taxation of musicians after this session where views were collected, they will complain they were not informed.

#SolomeMay1st Committee Luncheon Banter

May has been an extremely busy month with a great deal of good stuff going on, for instance one notable event was the Solome May 1^st concert that was completely sold out. 

It was such a pleasure being a part of the behind the scenes team that came together to make it happen, so that all the 750 guests who made it to the show at Golf Course hotel had a great time.

The most interesting aspect about this team was that it was non conventional, with each member being added due to their expertise and not whether they knew each other.

I must say it was an interesting 3 and a half month ride in preparation for the May 1^st concert and it is hard to think that complete strangers would turn out to be such a great team. 

These are the thoughts that run through my mind as I sat at a table of 20 people at the Kampala Serena Hotel last Sunday and watched the committee/ production team enjoy a sumptuous meal together as stories were shared and bonds forged.

The hilarious chit chat by the bachelors in between the re-pilling of their lunch plates with tidbits from the buffet style spread provided by the Kampala Serene hotel, was unexpected but very welcome. And as the meal progressed from starters’, mid-main the course as the 2 interesting young lads who were part of the team decided to partake of a glass of Champagne each. 

This was when the chairman decided to take a jab at these lads since they had grown increasingly jovial and vocal after nearly finishing their drinks.

Committee Chairman: Hello, sebo you might need a speed governor with that Champagne.”

Sound man: “No it is under control,” he responded with a grin on his face.

Committee Chairman: “Eh are you sure, so how are getting home, who is driving?”

We all paused as we watched the chairman who sat in the middle of the table, waiting for a response from these 2 young men who sat across from him since he now had our attention.

Sound man: “The boda man!” he responded.

With this response, half the table of 20 plus people burst into laughter some managing their excitement in order not to choke on the pieces of food that were already in their mouths for fear of having them lodged in their wind pipes.

Committee Chairman: “Alright Paul and Silas,” he called out to the 2 young lads as new nick names as I steadied myself and recovered from this joke, only for the gentleman sitting across from me to return to his seat.

Me: “Wow, I can see the soup you went back for…..”

Production Crew Lad: “Yes, of course but then I had to come back with some chapatti as well.”

Me: “Uhh hmmm!”

Production Crew Lad: “You know they look quite many since they are all stacked up on one side but these are only 2 chapattis.”

Me: “Of course,” I said in response as a brief smirk flashed across my face.”

I thought back to my recent visit to Busoga where I did not have an opportunity to sample chapattis which the region is well known for.

Me: “So why do you love chapatti so much, is it a favorite?”

Production Crew Lad: “Yes it is, have you tasted it?”

Me: “Yes.”

Make up Lady: “So what happens when you cannot find any, do you know how to make it?”

Production Crew Lad: “Of course.”

I was a little surprised with this response because men do not usually learn how to cook their favorite dish but as I was mentally processing this the conversation kept going.

Make up Lay: “So madam will have to know how to make them.”

Me: “Yes, is it a do or die situation.”

Production Crew Lad: “Yes, it is the deal breaker.”

As my mind briefly wondered off yet again, we delved into the desert which everyone stacked on their side plates until they was no more room left. The bachelors were bold enough to return to the buffet table for seconds as they took a fancy to the marshmallows which they dipped in the chocolate fountain. 

 
Cream Brulee Desert- Kampala Serene Hotel

By the time we were done, “Paul” and “Silas” (the butt of every joke from the chairman) were laughing at the top of their lungs high on too much sugar and Champagne.

This experience taught me that there is so much that you can learn from people when food is in the equation it really loosens them up and allows you to see a different side to them - especially men.

My experience registering for Uganda National I.D

2 weeks ago, I made my way to St. Mbagga Tuzinde church my polling center for elections which is located in Kiwatule a residential suburb on the outskirts of Kampala city. Given my hectic work schedule and the long queues, I had not been able to register myself for my national I.D for both the first and second sessions. I got to the church at 9.45 am ready to wait for a maximum of 2 hours to get this sorted out finally so that I could head to work in the afternoon.

I was greeted with stares as I walked into the children’s church and I sat down at the end of the snake-like line near the door before I asked my neighbor for assistance.

Me: “Good morning, is this the line for registration for the national I.D?”

Lady: “Good morning, no this is the line for pick up. Go to the other line.”

I thanked her before I got up and went to the back of another even longer line and took a seat. After about 30 minutes of no movement and dead silence so I inquired from my new neighbor what was going on.

Me: “Is there National I.D registration going on today?”

Neighbor: “Yes, this is the line.”

Me: “So why isn’t anyone moving?”

Neighbor: “I don’t know because it has been this way from 8.40 am when I arrived.”

I sat quietly for a while and watched the gentleman who was supposed to be registering us pace back and forth, go outside and then come back inside taking one call after another. Then he walked out and did not come back until an hour later. In the meantime, the gentleman issuing I.D’s from earlier registration processes’ and his supervisor realized that there was no activity and people were grumbling so they came to take a look. 

On a brief examination of the scanner, I realized that this was the reason why the registrar had left, the scanner was not working. They tried replacing the old scanner with one from the issuing I.D section and it worked however, the gentleman needed to use his scanner as well for verification.

10:30 am

The registrar finally returned almost an hour later with a new printer and this is all he had to say,

Registrar: “This machine has died.”

Me: “What does he mean, the machine has died?”

Registrar: “You know these machines, they are old. These government people bought old ones.”

When he said this I finally pieced it all together, he had gone off to get a new scanner since this old one was not working. All I wondered was why the supervisor or he himself had not informed us. It took him 20 minutes to hook up the machine and get the system working again but by this time over half of the 100 people waiting I line had left for work, home or to do more pressing things.

I waited another 20 minutes before our queue began moving and as people continued to trickle in they began to cut into the line. So with much irritation, I informed the people in front of me to move forward so that the line could keep moving only to hear the registrar say,

“Abakazi mugenda mu naze engalo, nanti mu tadde buzigo mu ngalo.”

I thought to myself, so this man thinks that everyone here understands Luganda huh and why isn’t he audible enough given the number of people waiting in line. Thanks to his chatty character, he did indeed repeat himself.

Registrar: “Women, if you know you put Vaseline on your hands in the morning, go and wash them. If you get here and the system can’t see your finger prints I will send you to the back of the line.”

I smiled and wondered how this system has eyes everywhere like Jack Bauer who can see you even through a closed Mahogany door. Anyway, the registrar worked on about 15 people between 10.40 am – 3.00 pm before the all-seeing system went haywire once more. But keep in mind that the 15 people he worked on were those that he registered in his book the previous day, now no one had informed us of this protocol. We sat for another hour waiting for it to come back on line so that our full day of sacrifice to register would not have been in vain.

3:15 pm

Registrar: “Now, you see old machines. The system has gone off again, you see what happens when you buy old things? ”

However, we were fortunate that this hiccup was the final straw for many who burst out of the church in protest and headed home as he continued to encourage them to leave.

Registrar: “The machine has died again, if you feel you do not have time you can go home and come back tomorrow.”

When about 30 people left he collected our forms and reviewed them to make sure we had filled in all the relevant information as he waited for the system to get back on line and by now due to perseverance and no bathroom breaks I was now in position 8 in the queue. I was so happy I did not have breakfast that morning otherwise,….that’s a story for another day.

4:00 pm

The system came back on line but in the midst of waiting, 1 young lady came and sat down next to me even though the forms had already been collected and our names had been registered in the book that had now become a holy grail of sorts. When the registrar saw that the young lady did not leave even when everyone else did, he said,

Registrar: “For those of you who have just come, I suggest you come back tomorrow. I will not be able to work on you. If I have not collected your form go home.”

We all giggled because we knew exactly who he was talking about but the lady did not budge and actually pulled out a novel to read as she waited. At about 4.45 pm, the gentleman from the issuing section realized that her form had not been collected and yet she seemed to be a familiar face.

I.D Issuing Officer: “Madam, were you here yesterday?”

Young lady: “Yes, and you made me not register. The system was down and you told us to leave so when it came back on line 10 minutes after I left, a few people were registered.”

I.D Issuing Officer: “Oh sorry,” he said and he took her form and placed it on the registrar’s table as he whispered in his ear.

Next thing we knew, after number 4 was worked on she was being called to register in the book and was immediately processed. The 16 of us who were waiting were uncomfortable about this but nothing prepared me for this.  Her fingers prints were not reflected on the system and even though the registrar had just sent away a gentleman to the back of the line for not knowing his village and his fingers prints not being reflected, he wiped the scanner for her. The lady next to me went into a rage.

New Neighbor: “So you sent away the other gentleman, but you are wiping for her the machine. Hhhhmm why don’t you remain consistent – send her to wash her hands like you sent all the women here. Afterwards, let her also go to the back of the line.”

Registrar: “I am trying to show mercy but because you are making so much noise I will not work on you today.”

We all laughed and audibly grumbled but only 10 minutes later the registrar called her name and handed her form over and she left without being registered. I eventually got registered at 5:45 pm, 8 hours later after wasting a full work day. That was my experience registering for my national I.D, now let’s hope I actually get it.

Interview Calls at an Ungodly hour.

Every youth in Kampala understands how hard it is to seek fulfilling employment in this day and age especially given the high levels of unemployment prevalent. Early on this year, I was in that very situation having to send my CV in response to positions that had been advertised. However, I came across an opening on Facebook with no organisation listed that my skills seemed well suited to. Even though this is not usually a source for me to seek gainful employment I responded and sent an email to the listed address.

I received confirmation of receipt a day later and then nothing for about 2 weeks and even forgot about it all when, one Saturday evening about 10:15 pm while on my way home I received a call.

Me: “Hello!” I responded after much hesitation in taking the call especially given how late it was.

Lady on Phone: “Hello, you have an interview on Monday.”

Me: “Excuse me?” I responded quite perplexed.

Lady on Phone: “What, I said you have an interview on Monday.”

Me: “Who is this?”

Lady on Phone: “Irene, you have an interview on Monday.”

Me: “Okay, how did you get my number?” I responded very curious as to how this evidently confused individual had my number.

Lady on Phone: “My boss gave me your number and told me to call you.”

Me: “I see, which organization is this?”

Lady on Phone: “Gal…” she said although I could not hear half of what she was saying as her line had a great deal of interference.

Me: “I beg your pardon!”

Lady on Phone: “Gal....” she said but I still could not hear a word.

Me: “I can’t hear clearly, are you sure you have the right number.”

Lady on Phone: “Yes, shaa… what do you mean? Aren't you Tracy?”

Me: “Actually no I am not,” I responded getting rather irritated at this point in time because this crazy person had made me park at the side of the road to take this call.

Lady on Phone: “Ehh, what’s your name?”

Me: “Joyce I responded,” with some hesitation like you would if you were talking to a would be assassin or kidnapper.

Lady on Phone: “Eh anyway, my boss gave me your number to call you for an interview at our office on Monday.”

Me: “I am sorry that will not be possible, you call me and don’t introduce yourself, you address me using different name and then invite me for an interview. Are you sure you have the right person?”

Lady on Phone: “Are you coming for the interview or not?’

Me: “….Do you know what time it is?” I asked with some hesitation.

Lady on Phone: “Ahh … no!”

Me: “10:15 pm on a Saturday night.”

Lady on Phone: “Ah I told you where am calling from, ahhh you are even finishing my airtime.”

Me: “Hhhm goodness alright I will call …”

Before I could finish my sentence her line went dead.

Well am sure that you all know she did not call back and when I realized that Monday was a public holiday, I decided that this must have been a prank call and I brushed it off. Tuesday however was a working day and I went about my morning as I would any Tuesday only to be interrupted by a phone call. I rushed to the phone but I had missed the call and realized I had missed 2 other calls 15 minutes apart from the same number however, when I returned the call no one answered. I did not think much of it until I checked my messages and saw this.

8:10 am

“This is Galooli you are being called for an interview callback.”

I called back 3 more times 30, 45 minutes and an hour later only for my last call to be picked up by a gentleman.

Gentleman: “Hello!”

Me: “Hello, who am I speaking to?”

Gentleman: “Michael from Galooli Uganda.”

Me: “Oh okay, Michael I received 3 calls from this number and was returning the calls but no one seemed to answer for the last 2 hours.”

Gentleman: “Oh sorry, I think it was our admin trying to get in touch with you.”

Me: “I see.”

Gentleman: “She was using my personal line to call you but she is away from her desk.”

Me: “Okay so...”

Gentleman: “I think you have an interview today.”

Me: “I see, I got a call from someone who did not introduce themselves properly but informed me I had an interview yesterday and did not give me the time. Now yesterday was a public holiday.’

Gentleman: “Alright I do not know the program, but when she gets back I will tell her to call you back.”

Me: “Okay, thank you very much Michael. I will wait to hear from her soon, good bye.”

Gentleman: “Goodbye.”

11:15 am

Lady on Phone: “Hello!”

Me: “Hello,” I said as I answered the phone.

Lady on Phone: “You were supposed to come for an interview between 9 and 11.30 am at our office.”

Me: “Well you did not inform me of the time and the organization. I could not hear a word you were saying as your line was not clear. Are you aware what day it is?”

Lady on Phone: “It’s Tuesday.”

Me: “Exactly, you said the interview was on Monday so when the day of an interview changes you call the person and inform them before the actual day. How sure was I that your boss or the interviewer was still available today? So it is 11:15 am what does this mean?”

Lady on Phone: “I don’t know, you were supposed to be here by 11:30 am.”

Me: “I know, its 11:15 am now so … obviously I will not make it in time.”

Lady on Phone: “…...”

All I heard was silence on her end as I heard her begin to talk to other people in the office while I was still on the line. Seeing as I was not going to get an answer and my airtime was being wasted, I hung up and never called back and neither did she.

This is classic case why our Kenyan counterparts are taking all our senior positions in our job market, Ugandans are terrible at follow through and customer service.

Note: Some names of individuals have been changed to protect their identities.

Unleaded Fuel – what is that?

On my last trip to the great Karamoja region, I enjoyed the vast expanses of land and breathtaking scenery of the landscapes along Katakwi, Napak and Moroto. Aside from the dust embedded within each facet of their lifestyle, Moroto town was relatively quiet with the exception of loud Ugandan music played at the small clubs over the weekend.

Today, I am not going to focus on the night scene of Moroto, but a whole other issue that the town is grappling with – fuel scarcity. By scarcity I mean that the town has only two available pumps which sometimes run out of fuel, so when you find it available you had better top up.

We decided to fuel up at the one on the main street of Moroto town since we were informed that fuel scarcity was a common occurrence in this part of Uganda. This station was the worse option of the two near the market area was the better option of the two with the other being very run down, but we only realized this much later.

Before we left Soroti town, we had fueled up but were currently running low after the back and forth journeys we made between Moroto and the Napak district headquarters. As we pulled into the fuel station, we were greeted with silence as we quietly waited for the pump attendant to serve us - however there was none in sight.

After 1 minute of looking around, the wind blew the fuel station office door open and we could see a gentleman seated with a plate of food munching away on something.

 We waited another minute as we tried to make contact with him by waving our hands in the air and calling out to him from our vehicle.

Me: “Sebo, sebo, hello we want to fuel up.”

Nothing worked and it only took the driver jumping out of his seat and moving in his direction to get him out of his seat and he started walking towards us.

Driver: “Sebo do you work here, we want fuel?”

Pump Attendant: “You want fuel?”

Me: “Yes we do!”

Pump Attendant: “Okay,” he responded as he stared at us before another man run out of the office.

The pump attendant’s counterpart pulled him aside as he whispered something in his ear as he watched us intently and a grin accidentally crossed his lips.

Me: “Could you fill the tank?” I yelled in their direction as they had gone a little way off to hold their conversation and yet we were in a hurry.

Pump Attendant: “Fuel is 5,000 Ugx a liter”

Me: “5,000 Ugx, why!” 

Pump Attendant: “You know where you are?”

Me: “What is that supposed to mean?”

Pump Attendant: “This is Moroto?”

Me: “Yes so, not even 4,000 or 4,200 but 5,000?”

After a brief moment of reflection, with the advice of the locals to ensure we fuel up to avoid running out, I decided to heed to their advice and responded.

Me: “Fine fill up the tank.”

Driver: “Sebo put Petrol – unleaded,” he said as he walked back to his side of the car readying himself for takeoff.

Pump Attendant: “huh?”

Now this chap decided to stretch out our fueling experience at his pump so long that given our journey from Soroti and then Napak and back to Moroto, we were exhausted and wanted nothing more than a hot shower and sumptuous meal.

Driver: “Unleaded!” he said as he yelled across from the driver’s side.

Me: “Give us Unleaded sebo, I reiterated since I did not want the pump attendant to feign deafness. After a brief pause coupled with a clueless face he responded,

Pump Attendant: “What is that?”

Bwahahaha! Chuckled the rest of my team travelling who were seated in the back of the van. That was the final straw as the driver responded in frustration.

Driver: “You put what you have we are not going to sleep here.”

After he finished I wanted nothing more than to never see this pump attendant ever again and it is working out pretty well so far.

Me: “Can you give me a receipt?” I said disgusted at how the fuel quantity did not match the number of liters’ I had paid for?”

Pump Attendant: “Huh!”

You all know that conversation went south.