Abim is a cold lonesome small village that sits on a plain. From a far, hills set placentally on its side as if ancient dogs guarding a king’s treasure. But two hills significantly stood out because of their size and position. It was said of them by the Ethur people that dwelled there: In a prophecy by their fore fathers, they are two worlds that would seek to co-exist. In that time the whites had just arrived to Africa. They claimed to be messengers of a God who sat in the skies. They seemed intelligent and were philanthropic.

Lokwang was a middle aged good looking, and well behaved man. A father to sixteen children and a husband to seven wives. He was known all over the village and those far away because of his bravery. Stories were told of how he killed bears and lions, fought with the legendary spirits that wanted to take his first born in infancy. To the women in the village, he was offensively handsome, and for this he was honored by the king and made chief over the village.

One late night, as he strolled through the village, under the dim moonlight, in a distance, he saw a dark curvy human figure. Peering keenly, he said “This must be a woman” Gracefully she walked advancing towards him with lithe accenting every movement of her body.

“Acheng!” He called out. She moved unsteadily backwards, somewhat uncomfortable. “What would a graceful woman like you be doing here all alone. Its quite dangerous out here.”

“Oh dear God, you sacred me! My Lord” She respectfully replied.

“Don’t be afraid my queen. Your safe with me.” Then a moment of awkward silence hovers between the moment, as Acheng shyly looks at Lokwang, and Lokwang dominantly pushes himself to her.

“Acheng.” He said, “I am powerful, brave, strong, no man in this village and those nearby can stand to defeat me. The king rewards me for my stamina. Non of my wives complains of me being inefficient. I am the chief of this village by wit and might. I have always told you, asked you to be my wife. My youngest wife. You will live among the royals, drink milk everyday and be served by the palace servants. Every woman would want such a handsome life . Your shapely figure, imp-thin body, glossy skin, slender eyebrows and dainty nose make you stand out from other woman in this village and far beyond. Your beauty has gained you fame even among the “Munu.” They call you a black goddess. Be my wife Acheng and match your beauty with royalty

“All you say my Lord is true but..”

“But what?” Lokwang interrupts her as she speaks. “Is it that born fool again? Oh, he detests me. Is he promising you heaven on earth?

“Who?” Acheng asked. “Johnson? You ask?”

“Yes! He is foreign. An alien to our culture and tradition. He is from far beyond the seas. Where they fly iron birds, move in boxed containers that make noise all the time. He doesn’t even know the rituals we perform for our marriages. Acheng this is the world our fathers told us about.”

“Yes my Lord.” She said respectfully. All you say is true. But i can’t marry you without bride price. Its the value of our tradition. A woman is valued and respected in marriage when bride price is considered. It also shows how manly and powerful a man is. The beauty of our marriages, the rituals, the festivals. celebrations all make it original. My Lord, be willing to pay my bride price, attach honor and respect to my womanhood and pay the bride price. Am all yours…..

” Am i missing something here?” interrupted a voice from behind. It was Johnson. Who had probably been eavesdropping the conversation for while.

“Bride price bride price bride price! In our world that doesn’t really matter. The colorful parties and classical music, champaign and the nice food. A holiday at the white sand beach together on our honey moon. In an expensive hotel. Your tradition makes woman slaves. It puts women in an inferior position.” He posses for a while and then clears his throat.

“Acheng, marry me and i will take you out of this harsh culture, you will sleep with me on the same bed, you will have your own belongings, you will have a voice as a woman and be respected to have opinion. Your not just a child birth giving machine…”

Lokwang losing his patience, pounces on him like an angry lion. They struggle for a while as Acheng looks confused not knowing what to do. Heavy groaning, intense motion, the two men struggle vigorously. Suddenly Lokwang sits on Johnson’s chest and he strangles him. Gasping for breath, Acheng begins to scream but he is not willing to let go his neck. He redundantly stops holding onto Lokwang’s hands.

“He is dead! You killed him! Acheng Shouted.
He quickly gets up and drags Acheng by her hand.

“They will all be here soon, in this village. Lets find somewhere to go. This village is no longer safe. I am not leaving you behind.

To be continued…
Thank you for reading this, something brief about the story:
I am not trying to go against any culture because we all have different cultures. I wrote this from a perspective of a traditional youthful man in the pre independence Period of Uganda, where traditionalism was very vital and followed strictly. I used my village “Abim” to portray these concepts. Abim hosts the “Ethur” people who are originated from the karamojongs of Kotido and the Acholi. The whole story is about the conflicts of the new culture which is the western culture and the traditional African culture. These two have to find common ground and Co-exist. Its now a global village and they Co-exist.
I am taking you back to how they began to set common ground and Co-exist.

Let me know what you think in the comment section below.
Have a great weekend friends. 😊



That light that rules over day
Was baking hot.
The pumpkin leaves bowed to gravity
As if be-moaning a tragedy.
In a distance, I could see a mirage
Escape from the bone dry ground.
This place looked dreary! With tranquility.

Little children playing under a shade,
Along the road, was a woman.
Balancing a pot on her head,
Covered in beads of sweat.
A cow racing to a small pool of water
Besides the borehole.
The trees were all still,
As if waiting for a command.

Suddenly! Dark angry clouds.
Race towards the sun! Were they just sent?
In no time, the hills and the village was covered in darkness.
A mother angrily calling at her children to find shelter.
A beau-coup of people running helter-skelter.
A man races by on a bicycle.
Head bowed, focused on the finish line. Home.
Lightening flashes! And again! The god of thunder is awake!

Now the trees, waving enthusiastically.
A window vigorously bangs and cracks.
The iron sheets are at the mercy of the wind.
Loud thunder, followed by wind,
Now no one is at sight.
Then the down pour.

                                         Omwony Liberty Israel


“Music is life itself,” – Louis Armstrong. In every society and generation, music has always been a very important aspect of living. It is important because of its attachment to our emotions. Music as a whole speaks volumes of emotions. Emotions influenced by attitudes and perceptions. Composers and players of music simply put emotions in melody and the melody does the magic.

Every musical voice has a person behind it who represents certain values, beliefs and perceptions whether conscious or unconsciously. The kind of music we listen to in a certain way agrees to our beliefs and attitude or even influences our beliefs and attitude in a long run.

But in a generation like ours, particularly in my country Uganda, the people to a greater extent influence the output of the music industry. Composers and players try to satisfy the consumer’s demands. Let us get this right, the composers and players are not to blame, but the fans.

We tend to love trends forgetting that they tend to end without even us noticing. And again we fail to value substance and go with the trends. Most trending songs are hyped songs, not every hit song is the best song.

Most of these songs are actually just well marketed. (I am not against marketing songs). But truthfully these presenters and DJs are paid by the artists for airplay. And because a song is over played, you are most likely to think it is good. “Out of sight, out of mind.” The human mind tends to adapt and love things that it’s so familiar with. Everything is about perception. Where does this game leave the young artists with good music who don’t have that much money to pay presenters and DJs?

The ball goes back to we the consumer’s of this music. We pay attention to people who dont deserve the attention, but just because they are marketed to us. There is alot of music with substance out there, on streaming platforms that is not celebrated. Go out and search out who you want to listen to and who speaks to your soul through their craft. What are you listening to? How does it sound? Choose what to listen to without any external influence.

Omwony Liberty Israel


Though being a noble Savage;

You are bone of my bone

Flesh of my flesh.

My cup that overflows,

Fills your cup.

The deep sleep I slept,

Was a rib at first but you at last

I build, you make

I strengthen, you make firm.

There is no way to remunerate you.

I will gash my being and pour myself to you.

Promise me one thing,

Our immortal beings stay in fellowship.

Our fellowship to fulfill our stewardship,

Our stewardship to bring divinity

Even to the mortals.

Omwony Liberty Israel