Top 8 Moses Isegawa Quotes

The razor crackled and filled with stubble as I dragged it across valleys and ridges. Birds chirped fussily in the tallest gray-skinned mtuba trees. They jumped up and down on one branch.

Uganda was in a state of siege, writhing like a dying moth on the floor. The bugles of defeat were poised, waiting to blow the walls down. The inside of the country was like a grenade whose pin had already been drawn.

All these white people believed they were scoring a point with the monkey thing, but they were not: they were just scratching their own assholes.

Every migrant soul was now a compact little ghost captured in words, invoked from the lacuna by the oracle of Grandma and Grandpa and made to inject doses of old life into our present truncated existence.

The lukewarm fingers of nostalgia stroked the hearts of the old, garnishing the smells and the sounds and the fires with old truths turned to dull uncertainties in today’s environment.

Life was a journey of discovery, and character was a variable that kept veering left and right in search of the perfect way for a particular day.

The skyline, gawking with architectural indigence, towered over the bowl like a row of stained, gap-toothed jawbones.

Each jubilating hand had the potential to vivisect, each hailing mouth had the power to condemn someone to death.