Pilawo gets me. It understands.

I’ve just eaten delicious pilawo. This is how I feel:

Pilawo gets me for many reasons, but I can only remember seven right now.

No teeth: At this my young age, I have very few working teeth.  Well, I have lots of canines and incisors but like two working molars, so. The less chewing I have to do, the better. Rice is not like bread or crisps. It’s easy to chew ( swallow, when I’m feeling lazy) and the pieces of meat that come with Pilawo are too yummy for me to complain.

Spice is nice: Oh God I love spicy food. I am that cook you’ll love if spices give you the happies and the one you’ll want to spit on if you like your meals plain. Kati pilawo has bayleaf! Cinamon! Black pepper! Cardamom! etc! It’s like a dance party in your mouth.

Hangups:  As a kid, I didn’t have much access to pilawo but I heard lots of mention of it in class. Always, during the “ Christmas of the Muslims  my Muslim classmates would brag about all the pilawo and meat they were going to eat. Nobody at home seemed to understand my obsession with it and to shut me up (I think) ,one of my cousins told me that intestinal goo is one of the ingredients used in the cooking of pilawo. I stopped asking, but my fascination didn’t die. Now I’m an adult with money that I can use to eat all the pilawo that I want (that’s a lot).

Happy wallet:  During rich times, I eat out  a lot. I can end up eating at La fontaine every other day of the week. I just can’t resist their sandwiches. And that stirfry! Everything seems so cheap until I run out of money. Then I’m faced with quaffing bland kikomando everyday for the rest of the month. In a bid to reverse this trend, I’m training myself to think of pilawo whenever the itch for a treat begins. I’m slowly learning to holla at Abid when I want to spoil myself. His pilawo is life changing and only takes a fiver off me.

It’s healthy, yo: Pilawo beats having chips from Kamwokya market every time I can’t decide what I want to eat.  It even has kachumbali with lots of onions. What’s not to love?

Engages the cook in me: Now if you read this blog, you know just how much I love to cook.  I’ve had this battle with Pilawo, where I never have all the ingredients that I need  in the same kitchen at the same time when I feel like cooking it. So frustrating. Every time I order a plate of pilawo, I’m like, “I’m totally cooking this stuff on Saturday”! And then I don’t. But at least it  keeps refreshing my dreams of one day eating pilawo that I’ve cooked with these two hands of mine.

At my desk: My friend Abid is a proper Ugandan. He knows how to capitalize on weaknesses and make people happily hand him money at the same time. We office workers/cubicle rats/wage slaves are usually too unwilling or too fearful of our bosses to go out of office for lunch. Unwilling because, lunchtime is the only hour we can properly abuse office internet. Fearful because coming back late can mean many withering looks and even a salary chop.

The only option is to foot to the neighborhood kafunda, but that works only for the first three months. After that you get tired of the 5 lunch meals on the menu.  What I do is I order Pilawo. I text Abid and get him to deliver a good serving of spicy rice and meat to my desk so that I can eat and at the same time look at gifs for one whole hour.

It is not possible to get tired of pilawo. As I said, it is like a party in your mouth with Major Lazer on DJ duty.

Yes, you know by now that this post about pilawo is also kalango for Abid’s Friday Pilawo business. You’ve caught me. Naye it’s seriously delicious. Don’t miss it.


Peas, soupu, onions, rice, spice, juicy meat. This is some real food.

In fact, Like his page right now.

For a plate, holla at 0705155561.

Hug me, Pastor Sempa.

I’m always afraid that I’m going to miss the bus. The trend-bus. Every few weeks, I type up a list of topics that I feel my readers will enjoy. I don’t deviate from this list, not unless something epic comes up. It’s more convenient to go by a system. Because of this, I never have Easter articles or Eid articles or Christmas articles. There’s not much to say about such days apart from “nga you’re going pray and eat and be happy!” so I always ignore them.

However, when the festive days come and I see how much sparkly benevolence is flowing from other columns, I get jealous. I feel like the Grinch, a pose-y grinch. I even worry that people will refuse to read any article that’s not linked to their happy times. Am I wrong? Do you enjoy it when writers snub these holidays and carry on exploring topics that actually matter?

This time, for my peace of mind, I am conforming. Merry Christmas! Seasons greetings! Feliz Navidad! Happy times! Cham Karama maber!

Now that we have that out of the way, let’s discuss more interesting things. Were you watching NBS when Pastor Sempa appeared with vegetables to demonstrate the way lesbians “have sex”? He came on with his signature passion, enthusiasm, fire and proceeded to perform pornography on national television. And not long after, one of the sports presenters said that he was, I quote, “shocked and mesmerized”.

This left me in so much shock that my jaw fell and hit the top of my table. Now I have no chin. Who watches questionable material (a man getting on national television to show the young and the old how adults copulate is so questionable, I scarce can take it in) and then professes how mesmerized he is by it? Eh.

Speaker Kadaga recently spoke about giving Ugandans a ‘Christmas gift’. Speaker, I think I speak for all right thinking members of society when I ask that, for the good of the children, you take Sempa out of the public eye. Let that be the gift.

Alternatively, you could hire a hypnotist to rid him of his ridiculousness so that he can channel his power of speech and relentlessness into useful things like:  starting a drive to take storybooks to children all over Uganda.

Or you can make him take up an initiative to give every street child a sweater to keep them warm during the cold December/January nights.

Or make him go around spitting bile in the faces of the demons involved in the OPM scandal who swallowed money that was supposed to restore hope to a needy and trauma ridden people.

He could also champion KCCA’s Keep Kampala Clean campaign and help this city rise out of the pit of apathy and complacency that Madam Musisi is trying so hard to lift us from.

Pastor Sempa could even go around giving people free hugs! That would surely make somebody’s day. Have you ever taken time to look at the faces of Kampalans on the street? If you have, you know how rare a happy or even contented looking face is.  People are always lost in thoughts that make their brows furrow.

Pastor Sempa, you seem to need a hug yourself. Ask the people who look broken and tired to rest their heads on your strong, fat-padded shoulders. Even simpler, Pastor Sempa, you could go telling everybody you meet that Jesus loves them. You can’t call yourself a pastor when you’re behaving like Satan.

Make my Christmas, Ssebo. Spread love for a change.