Stories From The Village - Uganda

  When you find us chewing on those roots called mulondo, don't think that they are easy to come by.  The boy child has suffered. On this particular day, the city is not much crowded, as Sundays always turn out to be. I bumped into the young man selling emilondo, it is my chance to strike. I quickly inquire about the prices. But before we can complete the transaction, a damsel turned into our direction. I snatched the root from the guy, hurled a coin to the young man and dashed off off into a waiting matatu, just around the corner. However, before I could settle in the back seat of the matatu, the young man was right there too. It seems he was following after me.  He banged on the window demanding for his money with basic insults being directed toward me. Well, I didn't know that it was a 5 franc Swiss coin that I cast to him in haste. All passengers turned to look at me with judgement written over their faces. "You pay for the man's mulondo; how can you rob him of a m

T here is a troublesome boy in this village who doesn't do much at their home. He wakes, eats and goes into the neighborhood. When in the neighborhood, he does all the chores that any parent would expect of a child. Therefore neighbors love him and know him to be hardworking boy when at home, he is totally the opposite. Some people tell us that he is like his late father. That man (his father) was killed at his second wife's home. He abandoned his young family and got married to a mother of 4 children, which children he partly took good care of, as his blood  children and their mother struggled to make ends meet. One morning, "he woke up when he had died in sleep"according to the police report. It is one of those few times I get to think that maybe witchcraft is real. Otherwise, why would you abandon your family and take on some other family unless under the influence of some supernatural forces. Mpozi another time I have got to believe that witchcraft work