Love in the park

“Nakawa. Spear. Kampala road. Parka Nkadde.” The taxi conductor yells through the window. A daily mantra. I wonder about how his voice hasn’t grown hoarse from  the daily yelling.The taxi swerves and screeches to a halt right in front of a girl, almost running over her toes. She looks up from her phone, barely noticing….

Death, do not pass me by

The tragedy of life is not death but what we let die inside of us while we live 4 years ago, Grandpa lost the fight to cancer.  1 year ago, Desire went to rest with the angels. 1 month ago, Julie, it was real ✊ No one ever sees death coming. No one ever knows…