DON’T GET MARRIED IF ~ P.Judy Karanja

Thoughts written words often left unspoken ...

ImageIf you’re not ready to delay gratification when your are angry. To hold your tongue, lower your voice and sometimes wait till the appropriate time, day or even month before you can deal with an issue thoroughly…. don’t get married. Immaturity is the inability to delay gratification. Marriage is for the mature.

If you’re not ready to leave center stage and allow someone else to become your focus, your study, your muse… don’t get married. Selfish people make very bad spouses. In marriage you don’t lose yourself but your heart has to be big enough to gain someone else. And soon, with God’s blessing: little, crying, diaper soiling, demanding little ones are coming!

If you are not ready, to stand up and calmly deal with meddling in laws as a united front: The opinionated sister, the insensitive uncle, the domineering father, the manner less brother, the nosy aunt….. don’t get…

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Are you married or preparing to get married? Pls read this…. WHAT A MOTHER TOLD HER SON A DAY BEFORE HIS WEDDING!

I will make sure my son ever gets to read this even if it’s someone else’s story.

Empower Your Life

blogMake a habit to move with your wife/to-be everywhere you go 

Mummy’s boy, you are now a man. Tomorrow you will have a new mother, a new cook and a new person to share all your secrets with. It will no longer be me but her. Love your new mum even more than you love me. Before you walk into her arms forever, let me give you some words to guide you.

There was a day I was arguing with your father. We were screaming, tempers were high. I was angry and he was angry. Then I called him an idiot! He was shocked. He looked at me asking how dare I call him that? Immediately,I started calling him idiot, fool, stupid, crazy, I called him all sorts of names. Guess what he did? He didn’t raise his hands to hit me. He just walked away, banging the door as…

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You invest in his potential. He commits to the girl after you. The reason will shock you…

I see controversy but it’s a good read.

Real News

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For years you stayed loyal, bringing out his potential, only for the woman he met after you to reap all the benefits of the man you molded him to be, because you were more of his mother than his woman. #EbrahimAseem

By: Ebrahim AseemFollow @fuel4thebody
Follow me for more articles like these: http://Facebook.com/AEAseem
http://RealNewsPaper.me

Nurturing a man’s potential makes him resist your help out of resentment. No man wants to be babied. #EbrahimAseem The same man who withheld patience, affection, providing & commitment from you will use all that advice you taught him on the next woman.

Nurturing an unequally yoked man is unattractive to him. It makes him feel he’s not good enough for you. You can cook, clean, sex him good & be patient with his mistakes, and he will still cheat on you…

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INK!

Aww thank you Nickson for recognizing and appreciating @Blackinkug you guys keep us going. Thank

kamugisha

We all want to leave a mark somewhere. Deep down I know, like me, many of us are scared of oblivion. We would rather live forever. But we won’t. That is alright. We shall instead leave a mark on the planet that shows we once walked it. That is the up side, the downside is, we as humans, God’s greatest creation, the ones with the ability to think with superiority over all other creatures have chosen to leave the bad side of the mark. We have chosen to destroy the world. The rate at which we kill our homes is so fast that some of the last of our kind might never know what it felt like. So stop spoiling the environment. Be responsible with your garbage and shit.

Anyway, I wanted to tell you about a team of awesome people. The ones that leave only the good marks in…

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In The Reporter’s Shoes as #UgandaDecides

Yesterday, I woke up and prepared to go to work just like any other Monday morning – grumpy, tired and a little excited about voting for the very first time in the coming presidential elections only two days to go. Now, one day to go. I was really looking forward to it but now, I am just really scared and here’s why.
I’ve always known Uganda to be a peaceful nation. It probably has something to do with having been born after the duka duka days. I have heard stories though. I thought that Ugandans would rather die of disease and hunger than be in war… 

We Ugandans are a prayerful lot; our motto is “For God and My Country.” Lately, we’ve been praying for peace, free and fair elections. But what I saw yesterday had me questioning the quality of our prayers. 

   

The Peace keepers

  

Last afternoon, I spent hours my face pressed against the window of my work place, watching the police mambas, patrol cars and military slope down Kisekka market. ~ Kisekka market is famous for two things in Uganda; auto spare parts and riots. 

  

The Mambas

 When I saw the police heading for that direction, I knew they weren’t looking for auto-spare parts for sure! I quickly logged onto Twitter and checked the current feed under #UgandaDecides in case I missed something. Turns out that, presidential candidate Kizza Besigye had been arrested along Jinja road on his way to a campaign rally at Makerere University.

Downtown Traders.

   
The crowds started to gather; I started to take photos and sent updates on Twitter. Before I knew it, my photos were making rounds on all social media platforms by media house accounts without my permission or any credit. People are so rude.  

The crowd started chanting songs that demanded change. As the crowd grew bigger, the police deployed more men, more teargas, more rubber bullets and pink water.

   

The crowd got rowdy; the police reacted with slaps and batons. That’s when I started to panic. Things were getting out of hand real fast.

The police would clear the roads only for the crowd to multiply. After seeing all the teargas canisters and rubber bullets all over the place, I decided to leave the city. I bought food from my usual kafunda, I got into a matatu and headed for my friend’s place in Ntinda. Little did I know that I was headed to a war zone!

 Before reaching Wandegeya roundabout we bumped into a rowdy crowd, we tried to get the driver to stop so we could get out and run for safety but he insisted until the passengers were so angry, yelled insults and almost got physical. The atmosphere was filled with teargas, we started to cough and our tear ducts opened. One of the passengers was, a white lady had a bottle of water and had me regretting why I didn’t have a bottle myself. Other passengers begged her for some water to wet their throats and handkerchiefs so they could wipe their eyes. She was hesitant at first and understandably so, I mean this was a situation where every drop of water counts. Thankfully, humanity kicked in and passed around the bottle.  

 We managed to come out of the taxi without any harm. I tried to take photos but the goons tried to snatch my phone. No surprise there. I ran into a building and saw old men crawl because of the teargas. I almost laughed but my throat was parched… 

I couldn’t take the teargas anymore so I decided to find means of continuing to Ntinda. 

The scene outside was pitiful, there was blood, more people crying and crawling. Some were carrying the injured to a small corridor. 

Blood was shed

 Luckily I managed to get a boda boda guy who after much pleading accepted to take me to Ntinda for twice the usual charge. No problem. I just wanted to get to safety. Only problem was, we couldn’t even get to the Wandegeya roundabout. The place looked like a scene from a war zone film. I said my little prayer, I put my life in both God’s and my boda boda guy’s hands.

A brave boda boda man in Wandegeya

 I don’t even know how he changed route to Nakulabye. Before I opened my eyes, we were in Makerere then Bwaise. I asked him how he was able to see where we were going because my eyes were teary, he replied, “Just raise your hands and do the peace sign so the crowds can allow us to pass. Chant those change things if you can.”

That’s how I found myself in Kalerwe and not in Ntinda as I had planned. 

My boda boda guy braved rowdy crowds, bullets and tear gas for a mere ten thousand shillings. He finally took me to Ntinda via the bypass. He was my day’s hero. I feel bad about not knowing his name but the situation just couldn’t allow it.

I can’t help but wonder, was all that necessary? Are we safe? Are our votes safe?

 For God and my Country, Uganda.

The Black Ink Game

 
Black Ink Tattoo Studio is one of the finest Tattoo shops in Uganda. We’d like to invite you to come through and have a VIP experience at our shop. We extend the opportunity for you to be tattooed & get body piercings with us at discounted rates this festive season.   

   
Follow our Instagram & Twitter pages @BlackInkUg and Facebook; Black Ink Tattoos, Email us; Blackinkug@gmail.com Or call our numbers; +256702777462 / +2560785280330

We are located at Equatorial Hotel suite 334, Bombo road.  

   Visit @BlackinkUg for all your tattoo needs, body piercings and tattoo supplies. You can also visit us for a chat about body art, both permanent and temporary Tattoos.  

   
Meet Talented Tattoo artists, get custom work, exotic body Piercings, Traditional and Tribal, Vivid colors etc

Get tattoo supplies, Tattoo machines, ink, needles etc.    

 
We offer ATC – Artistic in Tattooing Course.

BPC- Body Piercing Course

PMC – Permanent Makeup Course 

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Your body is a temple, decorate it. Choose Ink Not mink. 

The Church #UGBlogWeek

The way I’d have said it

kadaliblog

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6498b752c9df5254d4197ab5ecb7a55dI could say,religion raised me. Growing up, it was unheard of to go to church in trousers. I was a tomboy and i loved jeans but Sundays while i got ready for Sunday school, you would hear my mothers voice echoing,’Trousers do not go to church or short skirts Sharo!’ And that way the girl in me was discovered. I argued that the bible says ‘come as you are’ but maybe till today, my thought of it was/is a complete version of the scriptures. “come as you are you who are week and heavy laden” NOT those naked because you are being fashion forward. Before i got saved, each time i visited a pentecostal church i was depressed by the dress code and sometimes i felt like walking up to someone and say “those are leggings not jeans! or those are tights not trousers or that skirt is too club…

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