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We are who we are
We love who love us
We love who hate us
We love our Gender

Call us Girls
Call us women
Call us Ladies
We are TransWomen

Stop being confused
Stop being surprised
Stop calling us He or It
We hate that pronoun

We are females we as others
We deserve our rights like others
We deserve love and affection
We deserve Respect like others

We are tired of your nicknames
"Is a he or a she", "what is this?"
It hurts please stop stop stop!
We are fine ladies! Full stop !

You scared our fellow ladies
They are crying in closet
They are lonely in families
Because we are Transgenders!

Stop abusing my brothers
They men and so proud to be
Don't be confused by what you see
A transMan is a powerful Man!

Respect them now and forever
Stop calling them ladies or things
They are men **** and classy
They are men always and forever

See us slaying down town
We are lovely and attractive
We know who we are friends
You can't change us Sit down!

Don't be confused by Breast
That the **** chest of our brother!
He is strong enough to be proud
We love our bodies and gender

We won't hide because you hate us
The more you see us feeling proud
The better you understand us
We are Proud Transgenders!

We ladies need our Freedom
Government think about us
All women are equal in the country
We need all care and attentions!

Stop calling us Monsters
We are human beings
We deserve our Rights
We are citizens like others!

This ain't western culture
This ain't Sodoma and Gomollah
This is the  gender of Us
We are Proud Transgender people!

Pastors stop that hate preach
That hell you need us to go in
That Sodoma you always sing
All were from Those Bibles

If you accuse all LGBTI people
To bring back ***** or Gomollah
First remember that bible you read
Was brought by Evangelists

We had gods and goddesses
Africa knew no White God
We had Love and respect
Read , reread and Rereread!

Love wins and will win
You are taking us nowhere
We are here to stay and slay
Ourselves Genger our Pride

We are done by your hate
Is our time to shine bright!
You gonna hate us today
And you will love us later!

TransWomen are women
TransMen are Strong men
Transgender is a Gender
Respect us we hurt no one!

"Transgender Right is Human right
TransWomen are women too
TransMen are men as well
We claim no war but our Freedom
We claim no hate but our Respect"

Poet : Skylar G Peter

Poem: we Are Proud Transgender people
Skylar is a 23yo transwoman originally from Rwanda but had recently fled to Uganda. Both countries are very transphobic and homophobic so I can only imagine how much she is struggling especially with her own safety. I would be most grateful if you can at least share this poem as much as you can to raise awareness. Thankyou
Brenda Mukisa Apr 2018
Am I blind for believing you
for thinking the ordinary man
flaws and is exempted
its easier to blame, the weakest link
the one who will not get backed up by society
its easier to move on
if one is not affected directly
the system didnt fail us 100%
we fail the system at 50% and it meets us almost half way
its just easier for it to be wrong
because you are another smiling little ordinary man
because you dropped out of school, produced more children than you can handle, trash or *** where ever you feel like, give and collect bribes, cheat in exams or simply fail because you didnt work harder.
Join the others when they say the system failed them
but how many of you gave your best and the system didnot come through?

better starts with me and you.
cry to Ugandans to do better.
fiachra breac Sep 2017
Nighttime sounds different here.
The birds sing.
The bugs hum.
From the other side of town comes the beating of some thumping, bumping drum.

Every night feels the same:
Birds sing,
Bugs hum,
From the other side of town comes the beating of some thumping, bumping drum.

At five o'clock the faithful are woken and told to face North, to a city far away.
While for us, we lie prostrate in our beds and turn towards that great black shadow of routine, broken sleep.
Ignatius Hosiana Mar 2017
A page has to be flipped to find another chapter
some doors have to shut for others to open
tears have to be shed if a soul is to see laughter
a road has to reach the end for another to begin
a generation has to be phased for another to takeover
war has to be fought (peace lost) for peace to be found
men rise when others fall, a hole is dug to fill a hole
a fight is started to win a fight, all it cost... to win it all
some lead to follow and others follow to lead
sometimes the chills from the rains of greed
cause the greatest of shivers
when Augeans are clean and ***** are rivers
equilibrium is reset by living on the edge
and to know freedom we have to be bound
sometimes calm's plucked off a tree of rage
and for a people to be whole, a people have to be torn
so death has to happen sometimes for life to be born
to find heaven we go through hell for it don't have to start but end well
as savagery brings-forth civilisation,unity's found in the arms of session...
sometimes the loudest of riots are what a people in silence says
as the darkest nights are sometimes recipe for the brightest days
Ignatius Hosiana May 2016
Is coming that I know
but I wonder, is she aboard
a Tortoise or a Snail?
Otherwise why
she make us wait for
three decades, doesn't she
know life is too short,
and some of us don't
have much time left...?
Ignatius Hosiana May 2016
I'm so lucky to be from the pearl of Africa
where democracy is just but a name
where independence was given but with chains
where a thousand busk in the millions' pains
I'm so lucky to be from a country where reigns total freedom of speech
as long as you're not a member of the opposition
a country where freedom of speech only lasts until the speech is made
if only you could ask the hundreds incarcerated,most are dead
for what? for not not realising the freedom doesn't count after speech
I'm lucky to be from a country that gives no **** about human rights
especially these meaningless developments
like right to internet, what a sweet place to live
no Whatsapp, no Facebook nor twitter and why?
Tomorrow is the swearing in of our new old President...
not that age is important, after all it's just a number
tomorrow we usher in a very comprehensive government
one which has managed to stretch its tentacles across three decades
tomorrow we will see fat bellied millionaires
on screens of those who can afford televisions
congratulate our president who's filled with enthusiasm
to rule a poor mass who voted for their corruption free bellies
and thus social media could be used to bomb our young innocent leader
black mambas beautify our streets while jet fighters ornamentally
buzz across the blue skies, as if Osama has resurrected in Kampala
to the visitors, we are not at war...those are salutes to our most cherished one
the visionary, the most trusted, the compassionate
the one who wouldn't hurt a fly or swat a mosquito
we can't take any chances, just tune your channels tomorrow
for first hand glimpse of the merry and youthful dances
social media is a destruction yet our president deserves all ears
in the sky, on the streets from the hopeless unemployed
tomorrow we speak not of change but change without change
tomorrow we usher in steady progress for another five years
tomorrow we start to smile and wipe the tears
for tomorrow we acknowledge the old man is here to stay
I hear even the Zimbabwean tortoise is in the country
ready to congratulate his associate...these boys fought for their countries
they freed us from crucibles into their heavenly hades...
we should appreciate they have sacrificed too much...
tomorrow is public holiday, forward to conservative past we match
back from the beautiful future we don't deserve
tomorrow like helpless dogs we bow to our master's collar
tomorrow we bury our hopes for change and feed on this yellow muck
the swamp of greed, we can't risk defiance, we're stuck
we're like the long horned cattle of the west
for tomorrow the fat ticks start to **** and ****
but I wonder, for how long, for how long will we just talk?
when will we do more than just silently sob?
I bleed for my country or a country I once thought was mine
I bleed the taxes, the ruthless beatings, the tear gas
I bleed like a slave being whipped by these fatigued caravans
I bleed despair and melancholy and wander
like a headless chicken,for how long though? I wonder!
I bleed for God and my Country
for Uganda, I bleed...
I've cried reading this after writing...
it hurts loving my country...
Ignatius Hosiana Apr 2016
Ask me about Gulu,ask me about
the area associated with instability
ask me about one of the farthest towns
I was there,and clad in my red gown
ask me about clouds,I've seen them thick
ask me about whatever, just handpick
Karuma falls, their sprays of violence
savanna,swamps, what an ambiance
it was, how sweet the journey was
so secure a town, forget years of wars
the people,calm unless fray they must
ask me about the cost of living there
some of us couldn't dare bear
Ask me about Gulu town and I'll say
Go and prove,go see for yourself
How a town can be secure for sure
Go and see definitions of distance
go and stop associating it with resistance
ask me about straight roads in Africa, straight as a ruler
only hills and slopes reminding you they're roads
ask me for hell hot sun and the winter cooler
ask me about very volatile beads of tropical rain
and I'll tell you find it in Gulu,rivers of splash drain
ask me about tourist sites and I'll show you the route to take
informing you that the adventure to make
is to the north of the country if you haven't,I have
you might have not realised those are a people with love
ask me about places with trees from shrub to pine
ask me about Gulu and I'll praise it overtime
I saw no skeletons, bullets, no wounds or scars
they are only probably left in hearts or healed
the night sky dotted with patches of pregnant clouds and stars
even nature lives a serene life,the bottle of that history was sealed
Ask me for the reasons Uganda is the pearl
I've seen most,in the west,the East, now north,
for all it's worth
I only need to venture the south to astutely say I've seen them all
We(fans club) of my University travelled to watch our football team play Gulu university, a town that was most affected by insurgency from mid 80s to early 2000s
The war seems forgotten, life seems back to Normal about 10 years... the place is far...and beautiful..So much I ain't prolific enough to write... for I know no free verse
Ignatius Hosiana Apr 2016
where presidents die in power
the opposition die trying
Musicians die on stage
police in the line of duty
nocturnals due to *****
Soccer players on pitch
teachers while they teach
soldiers die fighting
refugees and paupers die crying
drivers die on the wheel
painters die with a quill
thieves while they steal
addicts die of smoke and pills
nobody wants to retire
even at Robert Mugabe's age
they all cling to talent and power
so tempting and inviting
won't we poets too die reciting?
Ignatius Hosiana Feb 2016
I suddenly don't know who my friends are anymore
But I know who has never been,isn't and never will
You're not my friend if you think our whimpers propaganda
You're not my friend if you're not in support of a proper Uganda
You're not my friend if you opposed our
struggle till its seemingly dead end
You're not my friend if you think we shouldn't grieve
You're not my friend if in yellow rule you still believe
you're not my friend if you're still blinded
even after so many are hurt and lives ended
you're not my friend if you sung a song in praise
of he who won't our teacher's salary raise
you're not my friend if I reminded you of the Hospital
and you said them sick suffer for the love of free things with no remorse at all
you're not my friend if you've stuck to his support
simply because he fills your wallet while the rest are emptied,
you're not my friend if in this sad time you feel relief
you're not my friend if you forgot about the *** holes
the uncertainty that characterises the air all over the country,
you're not my friend if in your heart melancholy isn't,the despair
you're not my friend if you don't mind the pauper on the street
the emptiness of our capital competing with that in our hearts
you're not my friend if you don't think it badly hurts
you're not my friend if as long as your Porsche you drive
you don't mind about the state of a country
whether your neighbour's child is dead or alive
you're are not my friend if everything you wish for you have
and you don't give a **** if others starve
you're not my friend if you're contented with the shaky epicentre
forgetting that when the centre is shaky things fall apart
you're not my friend even if the politics ended
for my friend you weren't right from the start
you're not my friend if you've played part in steering us to a wrong course
against the pleas and cries of the despairing concourse
you're not my friend if you're the reason country man lies in a casket
in exchange for a piece of the national cake in your basket
you're not my friend if you believe in steady progress
even if you're my brother,whilst rest of the country lies in regrets
you're not my friend if you are against the people's choice
for the people's choice is the people's voice
You're not my friend if your government military deploys
dubbing the shout of our plight unnecessary noise
You're not my friend if you're smiling while we cry
in darkness as sunshine lights your home for you own our sky
you're not my friend if you forgot about those studying under a tree
you're not my friend if you still think we're free
You're my enemy if you're an enemy to my friend
You've wounded this nation by standing by the olden trend
you're an enemy to the state and so you're my enemy
you're not my friend, for God and my country
you're not my friend and that I will never forget traitor
no,I will remember through every January to December
I will remember even after you forget,centuries later
...So sad indeed
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