journals of a rhetoric chef in gulu

Journals of the rhetoric chef In  Gulu

Well, am not usually a travel person or dusty foot philosopher but certainly I break out of my lousy self and explore the nature my motherland provides. Like the beautiful women in the kigezi mountains, they cost me a fortune by the way  not to forget the pygmies in the Ituri, just for the sake of seeing creatures below human accepted height and laugh at their extremely huge heads in proportionate to their bodies, wrap it up, it’s all travel and adventure whether deep in the Kampala potholes or  in a forgotten land with nothing to do save for a laptop with a funny tired brain reckoning it’s  battles with the mosquitoes around his bed like they said blood donations were camped here for the night.

My arrival in Gulu has by large been the most exciting spectacle in an abundance of 18 years below the banana republic sun. People around here unlike k’la  mind their own business save for a few  categorical ungodly glances, (I presume they are security operatives). The  language around here is more of a tongue battle with the vocal chords, you could easily mistake a pleasantry for an insult.( Banange mosquitoes)sleep for now is my resolution……..kenny g classics ………off to bed…not to forget man-u is beaten….wow..thats the best news of the day.

Eh! Failed to sleep….these mosquito bites wabula……..

Machines tumbling screeching sounds and a huge bang ka-boooom something close to that, well don’t get scared it’s just my mini-computer(brain for slow ones) re-activating……..

Day two

Okay, largely, I failed to sleep, I guess I was placed on the mosquito led battle frontline and they all mutinied and turned their weapons of skin destruction to me. Their bites are the worst form of torture wonder why police always struggles with opposition politicians.

I am amazed by the round hut kind of communities that I only used to watch in Nigerian movies.  It’s a clear sign that communities here are united both in dark times and Kony 2012 funny video portraits about them. Picture a whole community living around themselves, I mean uncles, aunties, step aunties and grandparents. No wonder problem solving is easier.

The school am staying at has a rich vegetation cover that affords them firewood and good scenery though am still failing to understand their statue, a boy with a club challenging a kob? How educational is that? Crazy ideas…………at least a boy kicking a book could be a better idea (Just saying).

Save for the mosquito infested day and the scattered showers in the dry place, the rest of the day was not much of a marvel, but surprisingly rather, this lumpen called museveni  has followed me all the way to  Gulu (thought I’d left  Entebbe and Kampala for you scum berg). Glad you also can’t read this

Anyway, lots of exciting editions have forced me to separate this blog because clearly rhetoric chef is going to be a busy one with all the new shockers and amazing things I learn about Gulu town.

So today was a bit more fun, the deputy headmaster whose oratory skills are quite a talent in bargaining paraded all the school’s achievements before us (5 trophies). I guess he expected a wow kind of reception but I largely think he lost it. Save for the few of us that know these things, obviously I mean me, myself and I, that’s an achievement I’d make in a day.

The name game was played after that, one had to mention their name followed by an action which the neighbor has to repeat for purposes of either knowing or avoiding shame (not my problem I didn’t understand). Now in the event that we were doing that , obviously some people’s names couldn’t pass without both audio and visual attention, like baiti and his neighbor carol, so if pronounced at insane pace, you’d get bite carol….wow how about that. I also can’t forget this dude whose action was a press-up. Botanical as his name sounded, he had the audacity to think the rhetoric chef would do such insane acts before potential one-offs. shyaaah!!!

I think I also need a tolerance tutor, I couldn’t keep my eyes glued in this mafia game that I so badly wanted to play that I got disqualified. Sorry about that, Raymond’s are not disqualified but rather declared over qualified to compete in such events under sane circumstances.

Oh God not another mosquito bite……. Off to sleep………….on a serious note am off to sleep……………don’t disturb me am sleeping…grrrrhhhh

IT’S MORNING…. Am thinking of shouting to everyone the famous ‘good morning my neighbors’ but with this rate of permissiveness, am scared of the responses…….crazy ideas just….

Okay, the specifics of today are a bit complicated, first is all our luggage is to be shifted because of a mosquito spray campaign……pheeeew! The battle is finally won…….hooooray…no more squitoz…..mortein doom first kill…..that ad. Stuck in my head by the way, it’s been stalking me every time a mosquito came close by. Breakfast am still having double thoughts of whether I should go two rounds or perhaps three……….

Well, surprise for the evening, a trip to the famous patiko fort, I know I’ve blogged about this quite a lot but this extra-ordinary smiles of people over a former African murder and slave heritage. That’s awful, I mean I laugh over awful things like the president’s convoy hitting a pothole at 6th street but this is more tragic than those ones.

Anyway, fort patiko for those that don’t know, is a place in Uganda which fox news believes is in central Africa, where a demise of a man, Sir Samuel Baker murdered thousands of Ugandans and sold off a couple of others sorry sbout the samuel baker, it’s the indians.

I’ll not include my amigos night out for strategic reasons, it’s a potential harm to state security…

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