Thursday, 22 December 2011

Taxi Driver

My taxi driver during several years send me a Christmas greeting via sms to my Ugandan phone number. This year I am in Denmark during Christmas season, though I would rather spend every winter under Equators sun. But this year is when my whole Danish family are gathered like every other uneven year. The even years I spend with my African families.

I return my taxi drivers greeting - and thank him. You might think that he is only doing it to remind me to also use him next time, but I can never forget to call him when I arrive in Nairobi Airport. He has always been nice to me and treated me very good - besides he is a very nice man. I can recommend Roses Taxi and Lawrence to anyone. So if you are going to Nairobi don't hesitate to call me. Then I will give you his contacts and a few other necessary tips.

Happy Holidays ...
... I wish you a brown Christmas ...
... El Vez rocks ...

Monday, 14 November 2011

I can beat you!

On the first nite in Kampala I am going to get something to eat before going to sleep – as I return to my home I decide to have a drink in Wine Garage.

I order a glass of red wine and stay at the counter to drink it. There is another man next to me. I greet him – he greets me. We talk casually, but suddenly he becomes hostile and agressive. I am admiring the painting at the wall. He says: ”stop, stop, stop ...”. I keep quiet to respect his demand and avoid to cause conflict, but he stares at me. It is hard not to react on his wild eyes, because his attitude is very violent. He begins to say, that he could beat me. I am not sure if I shall take it seriously or not. He continues: ”I don't like you”. I realise that a conflict is unavoidable – so I decide to pay my bill and go outside. He stands up and begins to push me. The waitresses befind the counter do nothing. I pay and walk outside to finish my drink, but he follows me and I see no other solution than leaving my drink and walk away.

I still remember his eyes. They were hard and evil.

Another day I went to have coffee in Javas Coffee (not to be confused with Nairobi Java House). Suddenly a rather big man comes to me and sit down next to me. Without any introduction he asks: ”Do you remember me?” I have never seen him before. He tells me that he works in Immigration. I suggest that he has seen me in the airport. He keeps on talking to me. I am not very interested or attentive. because I am on the internet and my time is running. He begins to talk about a wedding meeting he is going to attend but he needs fuel and ask me for 20000 UGX (equivalent to 7,5 USD). I say no and explains that I can help me friends here, but not somebody I do not know. Hereafter I ignore him. He says, that he is not a bad person and walks away. He sits somewhere else for a while.

In the following days I feel scared of what he will do if I meet him in the airport as I am leaving Uganda. I also avoid to go to Wine Garage again. It makes me think. To go to Uganda a few times is safe, but if you keep coming as if you were a Ugandan living in diaspora, then you will be confronted by the same problems as everybody else – the same treats, insecurities and demands ... or are these just dark sides of the growing of a middle class?

My hostility towards the middle class can be interpreted as sociological and psychological perversion, but here I only want to present a few things that I noticed over the years in East Africa about the middle class in Kenya and Uganda. In 2004 I came to Nairobi for the first time. Here there were a middle class as opposed to Kampala. The middle class in Nairobi would act reserved towards foreigners and Kenyan men sometimes shows hostility towards white men. The tendencies can now be seen in Kampala and in the meantime the middle in Kampala has been growing. The middle class has issues with everybody else – as opposed to the upper class and the poor ... the upper class is just rich and privileged. They do not need anything or anybody. The poor have no choice – they must do exactly what they are doing and can do nothing else.

But ... then again ... the discussion of classes might just be another round-a-bout, because the main issue is that I now belong here and therefor I have the same responsibilities as everyone else. With these responsibilites comes goods and bads. I have for some years been cherised with the goods, now the time has come for the more harsh realities. I need to be careful and take my precautions. Though I do not complain. I simple try to tell what I see. The truth - no, I do not care about the truth, nor do I want to judge other people or value their actions.

Friday, 4 November 2011


My glasses has gone from transparency to white-gray as an old man's hair. After many years my optician has refused to put them back on track. Right now I am back in my beloved East Africa and just after a few hours my glasses has again become transparent.

Saturday, 8 October 2011

White babbling

There will always be a white woman or man puking about conditions in Africa. They have always spent considerable time in Africa, though they still do not understand much.

Years ago it was Uganda. For several years Uganda was a donor darling. Apparently it has now become too obvious that the Ugandan President is corrupt beyond reach. An article in a Danish newspaper seem to indicate that Rwanda is the new darling. It is striking as well as surprising. The Rwandan President Paul Kagame did for years send his troups into the Congo to fight against the Ugandan Army and whoever else have been there - the battle field of Central African, where there has been wars constantly during the last 50 years with very vague international attention. The Congo messures the size of Western Europe.

Sunday, 25 September 2011


Time passes
it is something, it has to do.
We believe the movement of time is an important part of life
one day is like the other
without meaning in a broader perspective
more time, more life.
We are thiny particles
it means more than we imagine
outside, warm and cold
it is our decision.
I prefere life.

(Beginnings p.16)

Thursday, 2 June 2011


I am not you
you are definitely not me
we are the intercourse
life and death

Saturday, 12 February 2011


I have a habit of travelling in and out of Europe - as I now call the place, where I am supposed to come from. It never was possible for me to accept the idea that I belonged to a specific place. As long as I can remember I have felt out of place. To go outside Europe gave me comfort - but it didn't give me any sense of belonging. I was given the possibility of seeing something else. Thereby I was able to tell different stories about myself.

In New England I was sliding along the walls as a young and scared teenage boy. I could not find any space that I regarded as mine. Most of the time during a full year I walked silent as an invisible ghost. I could have returned to Denmark, but it didn't appear as an option. Was I colonised by a broader purpose? Eventually I returned to Denmark, where I finished high-school, as I was expected to do. Again I felt out of place, but in more profound manner.

After high-school I decided to travel to Mexico. I was alone - it was a pleasure for me to go very far away. Every time I began to feel some kind of belonging or had met people, then I decided to move on. I am not sure if I was looking for something or just running away. Month after month I continued through Mexico and Central America. I was travelling with no purpose and no sense of direction. One year later I returned to Denmark. For many years I felt a huge gab. Immediately I moved away from the countryside to the city. In Copenhagen I walked restlessness through the streets in the coldest winter for many years. I lived my life on top of a black-out. I had all the good explanations, though none of them made sense, but I didn't dare to begin to develop a language that would describe the feeling of otherness, which I had slowly began to have in me. A couple of years later I began studies in the university. It appeared to give me a sense of beloging for the first time in my life, but in a peculiar way. I was engaged in politics, and I read many books. In all cases I constructed myself in opposition to others - also towards the people that agreed with me. It gave me the possibility to air out my aggressions. I was passionately involved in aggression, confrontation and conflict as a principle. I despiced notions of compromise, harmony and human relations free from power structures. Even in my interpretation of the theories I was working with I constructed myself in opposition to others that were reading the same books. I always defined myself in opposition, and I found very few people that made me feel safe and secure - and it was always in the boundaries of the academic world.

During the years in the university I began to travel again. The destinations were European cities. I believed myself to have a multiple heritage connected to urban spaces like Berlin and Madrid, but I was more and more attracted to the boundaries of Europe: Iceland, Andalucia, Finland and the Baltic states. All these places inherite a combination of Europe and something else. I also began to write fiction again. It led to a process where I had to leave the university for ever. After 13 years I finally realised that I didn't belong in the university. It seems as an irony that there is again a place where I don't belong. When I left the university it felt as a tremendous relief. For many years I could feel the joy, which gave me an almost orgasmic bodily sensation.

I was dragged out of Europe again. In Chiapas in the southern part of Mexico I was sitting and doing absolutely nothing. I was looking. Here was nothing I could understand - as an echo of the Zapatist Movement. There is nothing to see in Chiapas, except social injustice - like many other places around the world. You can go home now. We will fight our fight here. You will fight yours. Together we will make another world possible.

My intentions was to go more permanently to Latin America, but instead I ended up going to East Africa. In Tanzania I was received by a crystal clear sky with millions of sparkling stars. I remember none of them from my childhood. This becomes a symbol of my African experiences. Here I don't understand anything, and there are none of my previous experiences that can help me. East Africa is total despair - but I am attracted to the life that I see around me. After many years in and out of Africa I have accepted that I have no heritage. There will always be very different places which I will swift between to nurture my desorientation. I have just been given the notion of desorientation as a description of what I have been feeling for a long time.

Is this a way of de-colonising myself? This is all very personal and private. The path I am walking is paved with fragility, vulnerability, uncertainty and insecurity.

Life can never again become a habit.

Sunday, 16 January 2011

A message from ...

If I wanted to be religious, spiritual or believe in destiny ... these past weeks in Kenya, Tanzania and Uganda have given me several opportunities.

The first days in Nairobi just before Christmas I met two friends coincidentally - I had lost contact with both of them, though we all are in each others Facebook-archives.

In Kampala Charles pulls by me in Kabalagala - I had actually thought I had lost him, because his phone was off when I was in Kampala in April. He was one of my first friends in Uganda, Ugandan friends - I mean. We used to meet in the evenings in Kabalagala together with other friends: Joseph, Richard (before he died), Francis ... Charles always told one incredible story after another. They were all definitely on the borderline of we in Europe regard as the truth - but here where storytelling is the core of communication the truth does not make a lot of sense.

The very evening that I return to Nairobi I meet Jack – by coincident in a City of 4 mill. people in Nakumatt Lifestyle in the center of town next to Terminal Hotel where I am staying. He is a Kenyan comedian, who came to Denmark and performed during the African Festival in Det Poetiske Bureau in Copenhagen.

I am not sure how to interpret these encounters – but I am quite sensitive to them and want them to be arguments for coming back here to live but coincident is part of life and if you look for them and sample them in bundles then they will grow beyond comprehension.

Comprehension is my preference no matter if it is beyond, across, underneath, above, before or inside out comprehension.

Tuesday, 11 January 2011

Guilty as charged

I have been caught in a crime I thought I was protected against. It might not seem severe, but it is contradictory to my basic principals:

1) Give anybody the benefit of doubt
2) Do not think of yourself as above others

I treated her as a prostitute and not even a prostitute should be treated like this. Just because I walk into a bar, where I am usually attacked by suspicious women. I also know that here are all kind of decent women just having fun with their friends.

It is the silent corruption of a white man in Africa - or a rich man anywhere. I have slided back on that path, where you think, you can do, what you want and place yourself as superior. I will have to pull myself back, as I did before, and ask her for forgiveness.

It is ironic that I am far and for most known by the song "Mumusonyiwe" - please forgive him, which tells about a white man, who does serious mistakes and still is forgiven, as I properly have been and will be in the future.