Pat Kayongo

When You Die

the doctors will tell your spouse
and they’ll break down in grief
they’ll message someone they trust
who’ll rush to see them, as soon the time allows.

your workplace will send an email
and all your colleagues will be saddened
whatsapp broadcasts will flood phones
of those time allowed to occasionally see you.

your spouse will receive condolences
templated from the same google search
they’ll reply with emoji reactions
of course, as soon as time allows.

your body will be repatriated
over mountains, rivers and valleys
until it reaches its resting place
greeted by those whose time allows.

familiar mourning hymns will be sung
with harmonies upholding those
who can’t stand weighed down by grief
but were forced to, because of what time allowed.

those who’ve seen your history
and will carry on the story of those gone before
will keep statues of you in their memories
i guess, that’s why they always called it going home.

River Flows

Crouched on the side of his bed, Tambu sat sobbing. He had slammed the door to his bedroom and needed time out after yet another fight with his parents.

I really don’t belong here.

They’ll never understand me.

They’re so toxic and oppressive.

I don’t know how much longer I can last here.

Access to the world on one’s phone has provided possibilities and efficiencies that previous generations could never have dreamed of. Whether it’s bypassing traffic jams on the outskirts of hills of Kampala, or it’s determining your public transport route from your hotel to your tourist destination in the hills of Rome, an application like Google Maps has provided immense benefit to people around the world by centralising location and geographic data. Within one generation, many of those who live in cities around the world have come to hold these tools as indispensable.

Iinkomo

“I know you’ve explained this to me before, but why do I have to leave again?”

Gomolemo was packing the last bit of her belongings into her bags, rushed by her anger and irritation.

The News

So, the plan is to be in and out. Focus Tshidi. I don’t need anything from Dischem. I don’t need that new dress in the Spring Collection at H&M. Just a tray of meat, garlic rolls and juice.

Snap. It’s payday weekend and there are such long lines at this Checkers. I’m already late for this braai that I don’t really want to go to, and these long lines at the till are going to make me even later. Quick rush to the meat section, grab a juice along the way and the join them. Come on, psyche yourself up. This is going to be fun.

Can I Speak To Someone?

On the evening of Sunday 6 August 2023, my wife and I were on a flight back to Johannesburg from Heathrow Airport, London. After boarding, the flight remained on the runway for over an hour without taking off. Eventually, the pilot told us that due to the coup in Niger, the airspace over the country had been closed, and we couldn’t take the pre-planned route. Also, we were informed that we should find our own accommodation and claim it back from the airline, as we wait for further instructions by text message or email.

Of Coups, Wars, and Corporate Digital Transformations

In mid-April 2023, Sudan was plunged into civil war. The para-military group Rapid Support Forces (RSF) was formed during the war in Darfur, outside the control of the national army for “special operations”. Because they weren’t under the leadership of the army, normal war protocol was not followed, and large scale atrocities were committed, more than would be expected under normal war conditions. Over the years, the RSF has grown in power within the country, and this reached its inevitable climax in a clash between the leader of RSF Mohamed Hamdan, and the army chief Abdel Fattah al-Burhan.

Play

“I’ve got an idea!”

Musa now had the attention of all the other kids. They started lifting their backs from the lazy sloth on the paved ground outside of his garage. All the kids in the conformant townhouse complex regularly gravitated towards his house during the school holidays.

“Let’s build a rocket to go into space!”

On Leaving Coffee

It’s not the smell of the brew that you miss most
Though the scent certainly does do something
It’s not the memory of the dark beans that haunt your thoughts
Though their beauty can’t be unseen

It’s not the burst of energy from the first sip
Though it’s hard to find other means
It’s not the focus of mind as the cup empties
Though the scattered mind struggles to leave

It’s how they all play a beautiful song
To complement the dawning sun
Like how the coast coral tree ushers in the warmth of spring
It guides one’s senses into the day’s fun

Disenchantment

Three days had now passed since there was electricity. Refiloe had 10% battery life left on her phone after recharging at her parents’ home earlier in the day. In addition to that, there had been no water since the morning. Joburg Water had promised restoration by 2pm, but 48 minutes had already snuck passed that deadline, breaking the fragile hope, a hope impaired by past empty promises.

Author Archives: Pat Kayongo