A blog Not about Denzo

•July 14, 2015 • Leave a Comment

 “I have created my greatest work when I am angry or saddened by life – those are the times I have stepped into the booth and blown peoples’ minds” – Denzo.

Now you probably have never heard of Denzo.

Or, you probably think I have misspelt the name and actually meant to type “Denzel”… you would be wrong you damn know-it-all fuck…

I met Denzo a couple of days ago in his recording studio in a Kampala suburb/slam called Nateete that we visited as part of a TV production. I was personally there to take pictures for a different project of my own.

Denzo is a tall, slim, dark, bearded dancehall artist with a hoarse voice both in the booth and out of one that reminded me of Buju Banton, although I have never met the latter in person.

When he spoke (Denzo) you could hear the truth and feel the pain and sincerity in his voice.

And when he walked into the room you couldn’t help but notice his presence, partly because he smelt of weed.

When he stepped into the booth he was like a beast on steroids with so much to say to an extent that he at times struggled to fit all his words within the beat his trusted producer had cooked up.

Every so often the beat would end and he wouldn’t even notice, he would go on for about 25 seconds before he realizes he’s been singing to silence, at which point he would command; “reload dat tune!!”, telling the producer to replay the beat so he can start again and try to fit his message into the beat one more time.

Like many artists, he sang about love, women, and life as he saw it. But it’s when he sang about the music industry (where I suspect his pain lays) that you could really see and respect the musical beast in him.

Anyway so when we got to the studio, almost immediately, he led us to a dark room with a thick wooden table surrounded by old chairs with torn fabric.

He sat in the chair at the end of the table that looked like a throne and invited us to each grab a seat on rest of the chairs.

His crew, mostly dreadlocked guys sat around him, while my team and I positioned ourselves in strategic areas to be able to capture good images with our cameras.

Soon after we had all settled in, he asked one of his boys to pull out the stuff before we could start to which he (one of his boys) responded by pulling out what must have been a kilo of weed wrapped in an old newspaper from under the table.

This looked like some kind of ritual that I couldn’t wait to kick off.

After a few puff-puff-passes later, Denzo begun to tell his story.

One of the things he said that I at first didn’t pay much attention to or if I did I probably thought to myself “he’s just another artist saying the usual shit” is that quote I started with. But here it is again;

“I have created my greatest work when I am angry or saddened by life, those are the times I have stepped into the booth and blown peoples’ minds”

This is however not an article about Denzo.

As I sat at the back of my car

My heart very, almost beating out of my chest

Gazing at the evening commuters

Staring at their faces but hoping no one would see me

For they would see the pain in my eyes

A pain that I try very hard to hide from the world but fail almost every time

Wondering what poison to take

Not to forget the pain but to get distracted by the thought or process of killing a part of me

This is the place I usually wander into when I feel angered or saddened by life

“I have done it all” I thought to myself

“What’s left?” I questioned my conscience

If I have not done it before it’s because I will probably never do it

I was out of options it so appeared

So I left the back of my car and walked to my office

At this point I feel so powerless and vulnerable

And for some ridiculous reason, I ended up on wordpress.com

I have not opened it since March 21, 2013; over 2 years ago.

As I looked at the titles to my previous articles chronologically listed in my dashboard, I realized that I could not remember what any of the underlying stories was about.

I couldn’t remember what any of the shit I wrote was about.

I also noticed that I could not bring myself to open and read any of the articles. In fact the general feeling of what I would find if I opened one scared me.

Part of the reasons I never read my blogs and couldn’t open one even now is because I have never really thought of myself as a good write or a writer at all. So I always preferred to save myself from the embarrassment of reading my raw, below average shit.

I always only used my blog to take shit off my mind that I could never talk to anybody about but would want someone to hear it.

Which takes me to the real reason I could never read my blogs after publishing them and responding to a few comments that would in the next couple of day after posting, I realized that I only wrote when I was in pain.

My pain was usually sparked by different things but mostly it was sparked by my feeling of being misunderstood. And no, I am not gay; if anything I still hate those fuckers.

So whenever I was in pain, I would write. I could never go back to read that shit because it would probably bring back the pain or remind me of it. So my writing was never meant to bring me closure, it just allowed me to take the negative energy and keep it somewhere else.

With time I found other ways to distract myself from the pain or can I say, I found more effective poisons.

Whereas I don’t think that I always did my best work as far as writing is concerned because I was angered and saddened by life like Denzo, I also do not think I did to badly given the fact that I am not a writer.

As I read the comments left by my very few readers back then, most of which I don’t even know and have never met, I realized that in my amateur-ness, I actually wrote stuff that impacted one or two people, here and there.

And whereas I still can’t open and read any of my blogs, I have this unexplainable feeling of importance that someone actually read my shit and got moved by it, so much so that they were compelled to leave a comment.

Here are some of the comments that came in last.

Comments

And whereas still I am writing because I am in pain, this time it feels different and has made me realize that it doesn’t matter how good or bad you write, as long as you writing about some kind of truth, someone will relate to it.

So to all my miserable readers, while you keep reading hoping to find some deep, sentimental shit down the page, sorry, this is just me unpacking my pain and storing it on the World Wide Web.

Nothing fancy here, so get on with your life and stop being too clingy.

It’s not like any of you pays me for this shit.

Muahahahahahahaaaaaa

Okay okay, just so I don’t leave you with nothing; here’s some white-people-shit for your ass;

When you are in some kind of emotional pain, it means you have allowed yourself to feel something and have let your guard down and let life in. Much as this is usually a fucked up place to be, it also allows you to fully see life in your own perspective. And if you are a creator of sorts, this could be the best time to compose that song, design that house, draw that art piece or develop that concept. Use it so that it’s not all for nothing.

Or just smoke weed 🙂

Peace,

Arthorious!

Hello! Is Anybody there?

•March 21, 2013 • 2 Comments

If you are one of those people with the new-age mobile device, 247 internet access and the sufficient level of literacy to use them both, well then my friend you may have noticed that the world has become a little more closer to you than ever before.

You can make as many ‘friends’ from as many locations as you may wish. You can keep track on the ‘facts’ about your favorite people, places, stories and whatnot.

You can practically see the world if you so wish.

And this is a good thing, right?

But like all things we finally get the chance to acquire, it all seems to mean less once in ones possession (call me the negative person that always finds a reason to be unhappy with something – you’ll be wrong).

I mean, there was a time you would actually enjoy to pick up an album and flip through those memories embed in that old collection of pictures (some even embarrassing  and that was always sentimental. Now your pictures and those of people you ‘know’  find themselves on facebook, twitter, instagram, Google+, etc, either posted by yourself or people that you ‘know’ for the world to comment and ‘like’ and share with more people you know and some that you don’t know, and suddenly the whole pictures thing – no longer as meaningful.

We have now abundant avenues to see our loved one, reminisce on good times and store ‘personal’ content, but it seems like the easier and sufficiently it comes, the less we treasure it.

There was a time you would look forward to putting away some time may be once or twice a week, to sign into that ridiculous yahoo or hotmail email account that was usually half – some letters from your name and the other half some numerals, both halves joined by an underscore; just to chat with the people you love, and you had a lot of meaningful and interesting truths to tell them, because you hadn’t been in touch with them in a while. Now 90% of your facebook friends and family show a green light meaning that they are available for you to chat with, yet (at least for me) you are wishing none of them attempts to chat with you because – one, you have nothing interesting to say to them and you think neither do they and – two, you really don’t have that much time to spend on facebook, all you want is quickly browse through what interests you.

But I am probably writing about something you already know or have thought about (but I am still better than you because I have now blogged about it)  so enough of that.

This was meant to be my opening statement to my thoughts (yes, my opening statements are usually this long), but you see ‘dear’ reader, I first attempted to write this article 3 days ago, so obviously whatever thoughts I had then are now long gone.

However, this is my site and frankly since it’s not like I have some kind of a following or make any money from what I write (I blame you), I really don’t care if the next few lines bare no sense in them. (this also serves as a disclaimer).

So what’s on my mind today?

  • I think weed (marijuana) smells bad and that bitter taste it leaves on your lips is really uncalled for something that’s supposed to make you feel awesome about yourself and the world around you.
  • I don’t feel guilty for thinking about smacking my 4months old for crying hysterically yet clearly nothing is the matter. I mean sometimes it feels like she cries just because she can, at 3am. Because after a few arm swings, soothing rubbings and an occasional sweet melody she’s back to sleep. All this wouldn’t be a problem if only she (the child’s mother) would carry out her obviously God given skills (because I absolutely would not get out of my bed to do any of that nonsense) from another room and not switch the lights on especially since I slept only a few minutes ago after trying to finish watching the entire 2nd season of Suits in one go while sipping on some Captain Morgan that remained from the last drink-up we had at my house and now I really need to sleep like a baby (a saying I have recently developed mixed feelings about).
  • In-laws can really be difficult ( I am speaking from my wife’s point of view) (it’s not a disclaimer) (I am not winking) (I didn’t want to use a stronger word than ‘difficult’) (I don’t fancy sleeping with Rihanna).
  • Alcohol is awesome. It’s even more awesome if taken in excess.
  • Those times when you are extremely drunk and you do ‘stupid’ things (notice how I have been using my inverted commas – it’ll take a relatively intelligent person to get this) are the few ones when you are truly happy, that and the first time you give an instruction to your 1 and a half years old baby girl (“take this phone to mommy”) and she actually gets you and executes, when you win a argument because you are clearly wiser and more informed than the other person, when you buy your first iPad, when you out drive some wanker, when you finally get that girl, when that girls finally gets you etc, these (in no particular order) are truly happy moments. Other moments are pretend-happy-moments.

Of course all of these things were on my mind when I started writing except the weed (marijuana) part. I just thought of the other things, because although I don’t care, I felt like I hadn’t given you (my 3 readers – hoping my wife is not part of the 3) enough.

But like all great/good things, today’s article must also reach it’s end.

Peace

Yours truly,

Arthorious.

This one is for Lisa Reece and the other cool people

•August 7, 2012 • 1 Comment

Hello my beautiful and cool people, it has been 17months and 28days since my last post or at least here on wordpress (there’s no point to this, I just thought it might be a cool way of starting an article).

I could say I wasn’t writing because I was too busy with other things.I could also say I wasn’t writing here because I was writing somewhere else, so I saw no need of blogging on 2 separate sites especially if I own one of the them 🙂 (I am not bragging, or am I?).

Anyway, I also think that I stopped writing on wordpress because I had out-ranted myself (please note that I used ‘out-ranted’ instead of “not creative anymore’, DO NOT THINK IT!!), you see most of my blogs were about me expressing my dislike for white people and gay people. Whereas my views and feelings have not changed much especially towards the latter, what has changed though is my perception and attitude towards life.

Much as the same nonsense that got me to where I was then is still going on in the world, I choose to focus on the good stuff, kind of like those common inspirational phrases that people keep throwing around to make others feel better or at least pretend to feel better.

Racism is still very much alive, we see it everyday in our communities, in the news, on the internet, EVERYWHERE. However instead of me condemning and cursing white people for it and justifying it when black do it (and believe me I can, I have and I have succeeded), I choose to ignore them and think of the cooler white people I have had a chance to meet or engage with; call it fate! But I guess that’s what life is all about, a variety; on one hand you have the Greek Paraskevi Papachristou referring to Africans as breeders, feeders and keepers of mosquitoes and on the other hand you have Lisa Reece-lane (The one of the Milk Fever fame  and whose last post was dedicated to me. I am not bragging 🙂 ), a warm loving lady that chose to be my friend despite my continuous arrogance and inconsideration of other people’s feelings through my writing. On one hand you have Mish Mash: a bar in Uganda that continuously exercises disrespect and unfair treatment towards black customers in their own land and on the other hand you have Simona Schiava who also owns a bar called Gatto Matto in Uganda but who in stead of showing her own kind more love and recognition she chooses to treat everybody equal. So it taught me not to keep hating the bad ones but love and celebrate the good ones.

Unfortunately I still don’t have any good/kind words for gay people and sadly I don’t even wish I did. What I’ll do though is to keep my grief to myself, reserve my comments when I can help and try to ignore them when it can’t kill me inside

Wow, this was supposed to be an intro to the main article but since it has ended up being this long, I’ll just let it be the main.

I have come to respect people a little bit more, love more meaningfully, live more cautiously. Some might say I have become weak, others might say I have grown but I say I have become stronger and wiser.

So this particular post is my way of saying ‘Thank You’ to Life and to the people I have met therein.

Thank you Lulu Jemimah for continously introducing me to your white friends in a bid to show me that they are not that bad or to simply mock me sometimes, either way you have made me grow. Thank you for being real. Thank you for being funny.

Thank you Lisa Reece-lane for being who you are, to show me that people regardless of skin color or ethnicity can be warm and loving.

Thank you Simona Schiava for being so cool and so friendly with a beautiful and just heart.

And finally thank you Yvonne Luwuge (the wife) and Zoe Luwuge (the daughter) for putting a heart and soul in this body of mine, even though you will never see the content of this blog, I can still say I love you both to bits 🙂

Thank you, thank you, thank you

Peace.

Arthorious

Poem – I am the Ruler of My World.

•March 9, 2011 • Leave a Comment

I have travelled all over the world in my mind, just to end up here,

Right here at my word press account,

Here where I write the rules and regulations that govern the world that I live in,

Here where I am not afraid to say whether I am angry, or happy, or depressed, or in love, or confused, or fed up, or scared,

Here where I determine what you think of me,

Here where you find out what I think of you,

I have not been here in a very long time and I missed it, I have been lost in different worlds, worlds that I had nothing in their creation, it was a mistake,

It’s a good thing I found myself back here, now I can rule again, I can laugh and cry and not fake any of it,

I shouldn’t have left, and now I know I will never leave,

And now that I am here again, I can sigh with great relief,

It will take time but I will find the grip once again,

I will Rule.

 

Out of sight is not out of mind (Literally)…

•November 27, 2010 • Leave a Comment

Now I know the difference between real writers and wanna be writers…and I have come to terms with fact that I am the latter. After more than a month of not writing I still can’t put together something readable, DAMN!

I have to respect Lisa Reece, Ollin Morales and the rest, I don’t know how you guys do it. I only hope there’s something I do that you guys would look at and wonder how I do it.

I however have to also blame my inability to post an article lately on the couple of projects that I have been involving myself in, my favourite being the Website ( Lisa, we are still waiting for your reply by the way..).

It’s been crazy a ride for the past couple of weeks and I have had a lot to learn, love, regret, laugh at, hide from, look for etc etc. As soon as I have figured out how to write about it, I’ll share.

I am sure you have also realized that I no longer use words like FUCK, SHIT, DAMN (above is the last time I am using it), and the related, my heart is softer, more compassionate and more accepting. I am wiser and more grown up now.

Ruby, I miss you. What’s happening in your life?

This is just a simple post to ask you my readers NOT TO FORGET ABOUT ME.

Dueces!

Arthorious.

A Revolution

•October 27, 2010 • 2 Comments

It’s here and it’s fresh. Follow me as I change the face of your web forever, you will not regret it: www.wabaa.co.ug

Errori…

•October 5, 2010 • 6 Comments

It turns out that I do not practice what I preach, well at least not word for word.

And this time here. This mistake. This one I will regret for a long time.

This one puts a major dent in my character as I know it.

Suddenly I don’t feel so cool anymore, I don’t feel as wise, as bold, as confident.

Suddenly I genuinely worry.

But not me. I’ll figure it out. I always do. I’ll be cool again. I’ll flourish.

I will learn from this and will not let it happen again.

I will reclaim my territory with confidence and pride. I will rule.

Deuces.

Arthorious.