Articles

Africans on the Moon • 18th March 2026

Remember You Are Mortal

In ancient Rome, the highest honors a brave military commander could receive after a successful campaign were those of a triumph. The title was rarely bestowed; therefore, recipients were granted a lavish parade through the city, with both friends and foes in attendance. The triumph’s convoy included some of his prized slaves walking in chains with their heads hanging low, as well as trophies from his conquest. This was his hour. As his convoy made its way across the city, hordes of people surro...

Africans on the Moon • 18th March 2026

Ugandans Are the Happiest People

I walked around the length of the bar, observing. All around were the happiest people I had ever seen. December holidays will do that to you. It doesn’t matter that we’ll all have some hectic responsibility to deal with in Jan. No, today, we’ll dance and party like school fees, rent, job searches, and the rest of it don’t exist. And if there’s a place that tops Ugandans' ability to do this, I’d like to see it. We’ve gained a reputation as some of the funniest, happiest people you’ll ever meet. W...

Africans on the Moon • 18th March 2026

The Elephant in the Room

As the U.S. electoral race draws to a close, immigration remains one of the undeniable hot-button issues, one that Kamala undoubtedly wishes could simply be ignored. But it can’t. The numbers have been out for a while: more illegal immigrants have crossed the border during Biden’s administration than under Trump. In fact, the number under Trump had dropped drastically. Initially, Americans chose the ‘love and unicorns’ approach but it didn’t take long for reality to slowly set in.
The impact bec...

Africans on the Moon • 18th March 2026

The New Face of African Slavery

‘12 Years a Slave’ is one of the most intense films ever made. You can’t watch it alone, and you shouldn’t watch it with others! This movie doesn’t allow you to dissociate; the Pan-African spirit is reawakened like a fever, and it doesn’t break until you ‘do something’.
‘But do what?’ you ask, ‘everything’s gone to shit!’
Yet, there lies the crucial difference between the Thomas Sankaras, Kwame Nkrumahs, and the rest of us. For them the implications of slavery were personal, it didn’t matter tha...

Africans on the Moon • 18th March 2026

The Tall Poppy Syndrome: African Leaders and Their Inferiority Complex

My nephew is brilliant! I’m not just saying that as an interested party; the boy is genuinely impressive. He’s a great chess player despite having only recently been introduced to the game, always at the top of his class, and has the ability to make connections between seemingly unrelated concepts. I’ve heard stories about his utter boredom with the time allotted for certain tests—he’s one of those kids who sits with a smug expression when he’s finished, looking around as though to ask, ‘You’re...

Africans on the Moon • 18th March 2026

Kampala: The City with Two Faces

With a cocktail in hand—its name too risqué to say out loud—I stood at the edge, surveying the bar. All around me were Kampala’s happiest people: dancing, singing, flirting, and being flirted with. And why shouldn’t they be happy? They’ve accomplished one of the most challenging feats on God’s beloved continent—they’ve escaped the clutches of poverty, something most of their fellow citizens have yet to figure out. Yes, they’re stressed and battling various forms of mental illness, but their prob...

18th March 2026

The things that haunt us- Part 1

Ticket. Check. Outfit. Check. Drink. Double-check. The event was advertised a month ago, and you're beyond ready to spend some hard-earned shillings. You could've gotten the ticket for free, but you don't mind paying, especially when the artist is worth it. You need this. You've been stressed, working yourself to the bone so you can do things like this.
The thing starts at 4 PM, and you're there at 5. But this is Kampala, and most people won't start trickling in until an hour later, two even. Yo...

18th March 2026

The road not taken

My palms were sweaty, and words stuck in my throat. My eyes—well, they couldn’t be bothered to do what I had practiced them doing. I couldn't look at you; I couldn't let you see this longing, this feeling of loss since the day you left. You had picked up your keys off the table, paused at the door, and sighed. You didn't look back, nor did you say a word. You just stood there, as if deciding between two impossible tasks. I never thought you would leave. I'll admit it plainly here—I got cocky, fu...