Undo

Sarah Tshila knows pretty well that feminism is all about being realistic. Of course many will say why should it be…male dominion is often realistic too, if seen differently.  No one wants to contemplate that! That is why Tshila makes a bold announcement “that she is not feministic but realistic” but underneath it all there is no need to hide. Really!

I love her song ‘Buli shensi Nhola’. She uses her instruments calculatively to set mood. Her lament is brought out best in the Engligishuswah poetry-song; you will notice the rhyme there. Like every “feminist”, she sees what you other women don’t want to see. This is rebellion music, wyclef would say.

http://www.ugpulse.com

  Iwaya sent a text message to my phone as I lay listening to this song, and he wrote…you don’t have to see the night, see the light…” This is bordering on telepathic for him. I was just wondering which light Tshila wanted her man to see. 

                           “…You are always right 

                           You never see the light …”

And then she demands

“…Tell me what I gotta say, what I gotta do to get more respect from you…”

One problem Tshila has with all you women is you are so confused “…Why do we refuse to be in the system in which we can choose…”

I continuously listened to this song for one reason, control, she has control, and she calculates the music, its engaging stuff. Stuff you can listen to end to end. I know Moses is going to enjoy questioning my association with the feminist bit. Deep down, this particular woman’s lament laced in poetry is convincing. And I particularly get her drift “…I am a realistic feminist…you women don’t have to cry anymore…I have cried your tears for you…go out and be free…enjoy your lives…happiness is for everyone”

Forget the angry words, let some man praise you like “Nakatudde” 

       …Ohhhh, I want that girl… (the English translation doesn’t sound beautiful)

Maddox Ssematimba, Man! Namagembe was not good enough, now you want Nakatudde. But I don’t blame you. They are both better looking but Nakatudde is better better. That is why Tshila will ask on Namagembe’s behalf; 

    “…how can you tell me this right now,

     everything around is going down, 

     thought I gave you everything I had,

      now you wanna turn your back away…I gotta tell you that…

      oh my love, my heart is in pieces…”

Tshila leaves me in pieces too, you know, after three hours of listening, I am stuck with this beautiful tune to hum to every time. And I can’t help the pieces that keep thawing away due to lack of that voice in my ear.

In this particular song there are these soul-fully deep sax sounds that could make you sweetly drowsy. 

Of course, Reggaelogy! Perhaps just one song in there.  “Nkomyeewo.” The rest? Un-pleasurable drowsiness. Your heart could hemorrhage for boredom. I have had this album almost 6 months and I had never sat to complete a song.  The album suffers from the one beat syndrome, You end up feeling there is a continuity between the songs, so it is better to listen your best song and then while the rest of the time away wondering who didn’t get inspiration enough to hit the drums differently, Or pluck at the guitar in longer notes.   

Of course, the one beat syndrome cannot be totally done away with, after making the “hit” your are sapped, a kind of drought rakes through you, the excitement of having written a most enjoyful work burns through your veins, it’s the feel of ecstasy that you re-live for long after the event, its contagious, the best will not work till it has worn away, the rest can’t resist it, 

And hey just like inktus is about to be, Tshila is a software engineer.

You can actually read about Sarah tshila here

http://www.ugpulse.com/articles/daily/homepage.asp?ID=470...

and here too

http://www.ugpulse.com/articles/daily/homepage.asp?ID=348

this is her webpage

http://www.tshila.com

 

you may want to see here too...good picture there

http://www.myspace.com/sabasaba45

My neighbour seriously believes in superstition. I have learnt never to argue with her on such matters. Coz, the last time she triumphed even though it turned out rather ugly, she was content she had made a point. 

 I had to buy Agi some deep sleep enhancers so that the nites (almost 60 days) could be spent peacefully-It’s spooky witnessing someone having a bad dream.

Anyway, my neighbour gave me a dog about three months ago and the poor thing didn’t last a week. A cute rural dog!

-It had no traces of mixed blood, It loved to piss on the tiles in my lounge, It was comfortable staying out doors, It never liked cozy soft ruggy comforts.

Every day I almost slid because the tiles were wet. Spanking this dog (Basawad, Jsande and other animal lovers out there, I thought this was necessary, but spanking didn’t help at all. This dog just loved the pristine appearance of the tiles. So much that it could peep from across the Kitchen; find the moment when I was totally engrossed in the racing game to tiptoe to piss on the tiles. Oh well, It’s almost like I miss this dog, this ranting!

Mama nini, my neighbour, gave me the dog and asked me for 200 shs. That’s absurd! I asked her.  She said if I didn’t give her the shs. 200 something bad would happen to the dog. I laughed the whole matter aside but each day she saw me she insisted I give her the shs. 200. I told her that if she wanted me to pay for the dog I would give her some sum but not a mere 200. Of course she refused, fumed about her relation to me being too dear for me to buy the dog but was only doing that for the love of the dog’s life. I still never gave her the shs.200.

The dog died. It was mauled by a rabid wanderer. Torn to threads, wrung by its neck till its innards swung this way and its body the other. The dog’s wails woke the whole community who converged to watch the kill. Blood everywhere. With no one courageous enough to stop the carnage So when the rabid wanderer let the dog go…it rose on rickety legs, its bloodshot eyes looked straight at Agi and it walked in a swayed motion to her, dragging its innards between its legs, yelping softly in a kind of relief. Realizing that after all the suffering, the little dog remembered her and was coming to her to heal it, maybe, or ease its pain somewhat. Agi collapsed! The rabid wanderer came in again in somehow snatched the little dog and Ran into the bushes.

Mama nini helped me carry Agi into the house. She was now thinking of counter-actions, but you wouldn’t want to encourage her in that area. So started Agi’s nights of zombie hosting. Now, mama nini wants to give me a new dog. I have already paid her shs.150 in advance. Don’t ask me why…I didn’t bother either…

Except, Sunday saw me sowing maize, it had rained overnight. A few of us like to muse over farming but you should have seen the number of chaps who came to tell me they don’t dig on Sundays.