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Chahilu’s Funeral; Logooli Culture in action

Guuga Chahilu was respectfully laid to rest at his home on Saturday 14th June 2025. Having passed on at Mbale Referral Hospital on 31st May 2025, the two weeks leading to his burial were full of cultural discussions. His passing on is a great loss to the Logooli Language and Culture Family as he was a custodian and informer of Luhya Indigenous Knowledge. An observation as to how the funeral proceeded leads us to revist Logooli traditions amidst modern realities.  One, having left the house alive and now coming back in state, Chahilu was to be taken inside the house, placed muihiilu for a moment and then officially taken out in wait for earth burial. His casket was able to enter the doors. There are cases where the dead would find it difficult to be taken in and then out due to an oversized casket or thin door. A man or a lady of his house who died out of home has to be taken in the house for a last ritual mark. But if the person had died inside, he or she would not be brought bac...
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Bike Fall

The elbow hurts and if I do not take care, one day I shall not have the hands to type an article. The bicycle is the simplest and safest mode of transport known if you know to apply brakes before a bump, to manoeuvre on stones and alight when you don't trust yourself.

Cane transporting trailers passed slowly as I cycled on gear one. The first had no place to hold. The second had. Quickly, my right hand got hold. Being the first time ever, I had a quarter a second moment of adapting. Easy! I was being pulled along nicely for people to see!

The trailer driver had zigzagged to signal discomfort with my act. Tonnes of canes were aboard and my holding was insignificant. I could not have understood that till I was bruised.

A tractor was slow descending to Lunyerere. I overtook it like a pro. Across the river I changed the gear. Quick cycles but least propulsion, I went. A guy with the old phoenix was pushing as required. Ahead, a green coloured mountain bike was reachable. Legs increased their revolutions.

But before I reached the guy, the tractor trotted behind and the intensity of its engine signalled a fast speed for it. When it neared, I assessed for points of  grasp. I saw a hook point when it was already a metre ahead. Two gears more and I had caught it. The bike guy may have seen a joker of a biker.

The hill was being tamed. Fast, the chimney gritting, I controlled the bike with the left hand. I passed people quickly. Bumps lay ahead but the ride was too joyful to take a moment of thought. We were now passing Mbale Boys gate.

Up down, up down and I had lost control. It was late in letting the tractor go. Uncontrollable motion, I fell painfully. A lady quickly crossed over to catch a matatu seconds after fall, unconcerned. The tractor had opaqued my agony in the short time I was up to beat dust. Good I was up.

I'd have entered Bliss Medicare place for spirit wipe but thought against it. I only had a hundred bob and it was better to be a customer at the cyber than be given elastoplats unnecessarily. And so I soaked a toilet paper as I googled.

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