(Christian Week - December 10, 2010) KAMPALA, UGANDA ✦ Two friends. One's confessing a secret. He's crying. Blubbering. Hyperventilating. "You'll be surprised," he says. "Don't worry," says his friend. "I know about things. Whatever you've done, you can tell me." "You'll be surprised," says the first. "No, I won't. Don't worry. Who is she? What's happened?" "You're making assumptions." "It's okay. Whatever you've done to her. Come on. Just tell me." "I'm gay." Silence. Disbelief. Embarrassment.
Time for class. Time for thinking. Time to cut through the nonsense of vegetable journalism.
When you get out in the fresh air of the world, you’re awakened to how Western countries have lost it, this ability to run barefoot in the grass.
To Wanyama Wangah, we give a heartfelt, "Thank you." And to Aggrey Mugisha, we offer a warm "Welcome aboard."
Your mother is dead. Divorce knocks. Your son is lost. It’s cancer. You’re laid off. You’ve broken up. The car crash. You can’t stomach it all. Trust?
Press accountability is terribly undeveloped in this country. This is why vegetable papers prowl and destroy journalistic ethics under the guise of journalism and with impunity.
I think of what Saint Augustine said: “The world is a book and those who do not travel read only one page.”
We believe in Heaven not through religious instruction but rather because of an instinct that’s hard-wired into us, like a child in the womb who senses some grand world outside his dark closet.