Show me the money

Just what is it about money that makes the world whirl? A character in the novel The Devil on the Cross says he would have no problem selling his mother for money; 50 Cent sings he will get rich or die trying and most girls have admitted the preference of crying in a Benz over laughing on a bicycle, translating to rather marrying a rich devil than a poor angel.

Yea, show me the money!

 It goes without saying that life can be pretty challenging, even impossible, without money. Even in the Bible money is the most frequent topic with over 2000 mentions. Yet we are brought up in a system where money is not discussed early on. In primary school I sought a teacher's advice on how to make a million shillings quickly (I wanted to buy my dream bike) but he called me a troublesome kid and dismissed me. No wonder there are no millionaire teachers in most Ugandan schools. Yet these are the people preparing us to succeed. But how can you convince your pupil to succeed when you wear a worn-out shoe to class everyday?

That's why we need to get real about how to make as much money honestly as possible. The subject of money must be introduced and examined right from kindergarten to the university. It is the only way to go if the manacles of poverty, the debt cycle and dependence on foreign aid are to be crushed and buried. 

In Think Like a Billionaire, Donald Trump shares how he was taught to make money from childhood: "It wasn't money that my father gave me; it was knowledge," he writes, "if he hadn't shown me how to think about business, I never would have made it into the billionaires' club."

Yes, we need to be shown how to make money from as young as possible till that knowledge becomes instinctive for us. That's what it means to say "knowledge is power." If you are a professor whose head knowledge cannot help you to pay the bills comfortably, you cannot blame the system. I like Prof. Augustus Nuwagaba because he is an expert on poverty alleviation and a millionaire through his sweat, meaning he practices what he preaches. 

Listen, to fight over permanent and pensionable jobs is to be busy being poor! But personal development initiatives must be complemented. Yea, tap into that super brain and adopt excellence in your daily undertakings and watch as blessings overrun you.

Welcome to my world of grand entrepreneurs

Becoming "a grand entrepreneur" is a decision I reached recently after receiving a text message from a girl I had not heard from for quite a while. The text wondered why I've been silent, ending: "you must be a grand entrepreneur by now!"

The look of an entrepreneur?

That word 'entrepreneur' touched a chord in my soul. This was a girl I had once been crazy about but had shied away from because I was a church mouse. Was she now implicitly telling me she's still available if I've the financial clout of a business mogul? 

So I decided I had nothing to lose if I tried try out entrepreneurship. Yes, it was time I started having self belief that I could more than make it and live large! But first, I had to learn to pronounce "entrepreneur" perfectly. I went to work immediately till I sounded the word better than a parrot, till it tasted like honey on my tongue and tickled like stacks of bucks in my hip pockets! 

I proceeded to the wardrobe and wore my only suit. It hang on my gaunt self like a silk shirt on a wooden skeleton. No doubt I needed to devour lots of millennium-type burgers and omelettes to attain the physical stature befitting a grand entrepreneur. Evidently, I needed a loan. My stylish bookshelf and plasma screen would do for collateral, hopefully. I also needed to surf the net too for ideas that would make me rich in the shortest possible time! 

Drawing from my high school art skills, I designed a business card. It simply had my name on it, in sophisticated calligraphy, followed by two words: "Grand Entrepreneur" plus related details.

I then kept reciting the words of William Shakespeare's Malvolio in Twelfth Night: "Some men are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them."

Swelling with positivity, I then stood before the mirror and took a look at my reflection. There was soul and tenacity in the eyes of the man staying back at me. Nothing could now prevent him from being rich, nothing at all.

With a smile, I pointed at him (the man in the mirror) like I was going to poke him, and he pointed back at me, and we said together, meaning every word and syllable: "Welcome to the world of grand entrepreneurs!"

To pay or not to pay bride price?

To pay or not to pay bride price? The question comes against the backdrop of the Deputy Speaker of Parliament paying 50 million shillings bride price for his new bride Winnie Awoo. Now, to many eligible bachelors like me, that's a whopping price. We're in trouble if bachelorettes or their parents look our way and remember Jacob Oulanyah's figure or thereabouts. 

  

There was a time when this was enough for bride price. Now it's loads of cash.

I tell you, there's no pain like the pain of finally finding your true love after a long search only to be scorned by her people on account of your inability to pay exorbitant bride price. It presents the conundrum in not only the rich marrying the rich but also the poor insisting on marrying into rich families even when love is out of the equation.

  

Consequently, those who are rejected have rather than get dejected learnt to act convincingly. They put up a show long enough to dupe the greedy girl from the poor family that they are men of material means! At least this is what George Wilson in the novel The Great Gatsby does. Even the suit he weds in is borrowed. And when he's away, the owner comes for it, and his wife Myrtle never forgives him. She starts cheating with the wealthy Tom Buchanan and of course it ends tragically for the Wilsons. 

  

For the girls who have been pushed to marry filthy-rich men they don't love, the game of vulgarity is taken to alarming proportions when the rings are already on the respective fingers. Lodges are raking in millions per noonday while those who have no streak of shame left in them smuggle their lovers into their marital chambers to quench their lusts and take away the dreariness of being in a loveless marriage. 

  

There is however hope now that some wise elders have come out to prevent an already grotesque situation from further transmogrification. The traditional leaders of Acholi sub-region recently met to denounce expensive marriages and pitch for simplicity and mutuality in matters of love and marriage as was in the good old days. 

  

"We want to come with uniform bride price to allow every man to have a wife," elder Andrea Ocitti was quoted in the press saying. Bless his soul!  

To pay or not to pay bride price? Of course it's the pride of any Ugandan man to pay as long as there's no greed or conspiracy of one family to enrich itself at the expense of the other.

On love, sex and marriage

It's amazing how a chance encounter with a looker can evoke intense reflections and recollections. Just the other day I met a girl at Campus who asked me to direct her to the Senate building. 

"Only on one condition," I said looking into her eyes, "that you give me your number." 

And she smiled a smile that reminded me of Santurina. Santurina the girl I went to school with back in the day. I'vesince met other girls with heifer-like eyes and inside-out radiance; girls with brains and physical voluptuousness that make men shudder. But few match the loveliness that was Santurina's.

Love's most beautiful when it's not conditioned by material things but God's love

Today, beauty is rarely given time to blossom. Peer pressure is overwhelming and true love has lost its essence because of the proliferation of material girls who shun noble-intentioned men for loaded philanderers. Consequently, it has become increasingly difficult to find beautiful and intelligent women who stick to their guns and refuse to be compromised; women who have appreciated without feeling depreciated that they can never take the man's place. 

If you know how difficult it is to find such women, log in and see the stuff they load on social networking sites. Take a walk on Kampala streets and watch them strutting in 'leaves' reminiscent of
Eve's, that prompted God to make her a better attire to cover her nudity. See the overly painted lips and hear the superficial accents.  You think they care about the maturity of character that is a key  ingredient of true beauty and distinguishes true love? Their babies are not even suckled lest the breasts lose firmness and fall like socks.

These women are also obsessed with expensive things. Absolutely nothing wrong with that if they don't demand that you satiate this obsession. Thus if that girl you are developing full-swing interest in has "shopping" topping her list of interests on Facebook, man, run! Otherwise she will suck you dry and dump you for her next victim.

Thankfully, a basket of rotten apples will always have a few good ones – the reason to remain optimistic. When you find that good apple, take her home to your parents and let the coldness and emptiness of
your house cease to be your reality.

For me I engaged the hunter's instinct and got the number from the stunning beauty I met at Campus. If it ends well, I'll one day relate the encounter to my children and conclude with a smirk, "That's how I met your mother!"

Lessons from my president

Recently, my President, Yoweri K. Museveni, marked 27 years in power. He arrived on the scene a gutsy man in a military cap radiating from the inside out. What an inspirational figure he cut! Starting out with 27 guns was like starting out without a budget. But he had an irrevocable belief that it was his mandate as a patriot to deliver this country from the doldrums it had plunged into. Sooner than later, he achieved what he believed, teaching us all that when you find something worth dying for and pursue it with all your heart even if it means sleeping in foxholes and eating roots for six years, you too will succeed phenomenally.

Museveni's inauguration in 1986. He cut such an inspirational figure

Accomplishing great things also has a connection with acting shrewdly like snakes and humbly like doves. The Museveni of the 1980’s embodied this. He had studied the times, and came at a perfect time when the cup of endurance was running over and masses were no longer willing to be misruled. Thus they supported him unreservedly; fed the guerrillas, hid and spied for them to victory. Without that backing, Museveni would not have made it even with a billion guns.

When I watched that 1986 footage of my president delivering that memorable speech of how this was no mere change of guard but a fundamental change, I thought of how the natives of the time burned with adoration and adulation for him. Then I compared him with the Museveni of today, and a tear dropped from my eyes into my cup of coffee. How deceptive man’s heart is! Who would have thought that the man who articulated with such passion how the problem of Africa are leaders who overstay in power would backtrack to the extent of bribing legislators to knock the two-term presidential limits from the constitution? Now those that worshiped him are groaning in the despair of betrayal and untold corruption that has ruined service delivery in this country.

Surely the president is deeply tormented by many regrets but is simply living in denial. He demands unquestioning allegiance so much that he even has not flinched from harassing his own party members that have the guts to question him on some things. Basically the salt has lost its saltiness and the day of giving account of his stewardship is sooner than he realises. I am even more optimistic because the torch will always be greater than the individual. My only prayer is that the next bearer will shine it better for the greater good of our country.