I’m at Javas – Cafe Javas. The one in Lugogo. There are a million people here. As always. Each side of the eye is swarming with movement. Noise and chatter. The tables are now close to each other, you have to eat and hear the conversation on...
When my father hired a nutritionist for his meals, I knew they would disagree about almost everything. When he needed to take his usual hot cup of coffee in the morning, the nutritionist waltzed the table with hot water quenched with lemons and...
A year back on this day, I boarded a Ntinda-bound taxi, on my own, for the very first time, heading to a destination I only knew by the phone call I was attending to. Ntinda, a famed hub for pork joints, is a no different rendition of other...
