#FabulousAt40, 47,48...106

 A woman in her forties stops shining, and starts glowing. 

She stops pining after status symbols and stops pining after people who do not respect her, and her glow begins to show.

When you arrive in your forties, you begin to allow all the hard work of the past years, begin to manifest and you de-stress. You realize that rather than chase after the person with 100,000 followers, remain with the people who give you 100,000 reasons to keep going.

In your forties, when someone insults you on WhatsApp, you delete the messages and treat them with indifference, instead of responding with the same venomous spite, because you are adorned with beauty, grace and strength and the glow keeps seeping through every pore of your skin.

Not every woman in her forties will reach this, because some still insist on chasing status symbols and hunting for people who will validate them. There are many accomplished women in their thirties and yet they too will only achieve the forties' glow when they have reached their forties.

A woman who reaches here, is like a rattlesnake that sheds off its old skin. It is an organic experience when you just allow yourself to be, and experience the right people walking into your life and your business ideas meeting the right connections. 

The definition of yourself is built on years of prayer, tears, faith and finally, letting go. Those peers who have always insisted on not greeting you until you greet them first,  just float away and you watch with glee, as they drift from your life.

And when you stop following certain people on social media, the actual physical reconnection is much deeper and richer, because your stories are heartfelt and not ego-driven.

Not every woman in her forties will realize this because some still define themselves by their titles, without which, they are desperate for frivolous things, like many people.

I know that being seated on the front pew every Sunday does not guarantee blessings, because I did that for many years. I know that spending an extra 10 minutes listening to someone, is sometimes more productive than posting quotes on a WhatsApp status.

My plans for my 48th birthday are not about how I want my friends and family to celebrate me, but how I want to celebrate myself. 

Bless!

Beverley Nambozo Nsengiyunva,

47 going onto 48 ...106.

We Used Porridge for Our Street Style Publicity

 We Used Porridge for Our Street Style Publicity

While I worked at Power FM, from 2003 to 2005, in addition to running the weekday morning show from 6:00 am to 10:00 am, I also served as the Audience Relations Manager, which involved a considerable amount of marketing and publicity.

Our campaigns, around social behavioural change, involved posters. Lots and lots of posters. The various brands that supported us, were particular about the positioning of their logos. From beverages, Telecom companies, clothing stores and so on.

How did we market, without Facebook, Twitter, Instagram or WhatsApp?

Well, we used posters and porridge.

Those days, multi-talented Joe Kahirimbanyi used to design the posters for us. He would neither use a phone (which was most likely a Nokia, Motorola or Alcatel at the time), nor would he use a laptop. He would walk to his office in the Industrial Area, about twenty minutes away, from the Power FM Kampala Road office, charge the desktop and begin designing from there.

And we never sent a boda cycle transport man to go to Nasser Road and print for us. Instead, we would use the general office flash disk, travel to Nasser Road ourselves and order the printing of posters, which were usually about 200, after which we would distribute them in prime locations.

About the Porridge

There was a news anchor who had mastered the art of street marketing. Since posters were allowed on Kampala roads and walls of buildings those days, our news anchor deployed street style marketing to get our messages across.

On Friday night, he would request for about 5,000/- (less than $2), which would be used to buy porridge, and to pay the boys who used to roam the Kampala streets at night. This is how it worked. After boiling the porridge, he would let it cool and then harden. This porridge would then be rolled into tiny balls and work as the most perfect substitute for office glue.

With their minimal payment and hearts bursting with gratitude, our news anchor would send the boys all over Kampala Road and Jinja Road to stick our posters on every blank wall in the city, every public office building and every corner that needed an uplift.

Monday morning after the show, we would take a walk and marvel at the work, our posters and logo in every possible place along the streets. It was the most practical way to get the word out about our activities and it worked to keep us as relevant and impactful to our audiences as we could be.

We do not use print posters much, instead we use billboards and banners these days, alongside internet and social media marketing.

The joy of posters is that you could draw close to the photos and rub your hands against the glossy feel of the art paper, sometimes even paste it to your bedroom door, a constant reminder of how close you were to that event or campaign.

And many times, posters would remain in a location weeks and months after the event. Why not? A lot of time and effort was put into its design and printing, so why not make it last?

It was a timeless way of publicity, and it worked.

What are the major differences between print posters and online marketing?

The time crunch with today’s urgency takes away the feeling of long term enjoyment and the thrill is often fleeting, amongst others.

Each period has its advantages, though.

Bless!

Beverley N Nsengiyunva

Courtesy photo of Power FM staff (2003-2005)

At Coco Beach, The Sand Slides Through Your Feet Like A Carpet

 At Coco Beach, there's plenty of sand, real sand that slides through your feet like a carpet.

People often ask me for recommendations for Team Building locations.

On the top of my list this year is Coco Beach in Entebbe, located near Lido Beach.

Azhar Jaffer, the C.E.O, is also behind the refreshed and revitalized look of Fairway Hotel.

At Coco Beach, there's plenty of sand, real sand that slides through your feet like a carpet.

Jet skiing for those who love aquatic thrills, boat rides and yacht parties, plenty of rubber dinghies to enjoy bobbing on the water.

Beach volleyball! A definite plus for organisations.

There is plenty of space for activities, abundant food and the air and atmosphere is a treat for your team. 

It's also fantastic for families, friends and even if you want to spend some time alone.

I enjoy swimming and as long as the life guards are alert, I always enjoy a good swim in the lake.

Book a weekend in advance, and you will have a memory of a lifetime. 

Book Review of 'One Day I will Write About This Place.'

It was in 2006 when I first met Binyavanga Wainaina-The Binj. 

Coming from a conservative section of the Ugandan community, where the mention of kissing and sex in stories, would set tongues wagging and moral advocates into a frenzy, meeting Binyavanga was necessary for my growth as a writer. 

Thanks to Femrite who appointed me as their Ambassador to a writers’ retreat in Kenya, I went along with Maggie Aduto and Joanita Wandera.

I sat on a log in Lukenya, watching the fire teasing me with its dance, escaping into the shadows and inviting me into its mystery. The voice was unmistakable. It was gruff, confident and alluring. Each word was deliberate and unapologetic. 

I walked towards its sound and there sat Binyavanga, with a small crowd gathered around him. He wore white. He was engaged and animated as he spoke. He was The Binj.

Inviting us to read our poems, the moment that my light matched that of the growing fire, was when, after reading my poem, Al Qaeda, Binvanga said,

‘What a poem!’ It has to be published in Kwani?’

And that is the same energy and interest with which I read his memoir,’ One Day I will Write About This Place.’

     Internet photo

A story of many faces, characters and places but of one personality. Binyavanga’s insatiable desire to learn, grow, travel and learn some more. With the unquenchable eagerness of a child on his first trip, or an employee with his first salary, Binyavanga’s quest for knowledge is detected at every page. 

His siblings, parents and friends, share his journey from Kenya, to South Africa, England, U.S.A, Uganda and many places across the world.

This memoir is a reflection of the politics, the beauty and the realities of writing as an African. It also reflects the power of persistence and proper mentorship for writers. The book furthermore touches on how geographical and educational landscapes affect our journey as writers and the need to know which areas to invest our time in and which ones to walk away from.

Born in Kenya with a Ugandan mother from Kisoro, his multi-cultural background led to fascinating journeys where languages became politicised and Presidential elections were deeply personal, alongside yearning for meaning beyond tribe, surnames and pronunciations of things.

In between two countries with vast and deep political and economic roots in history, colonialism and power, Binyavanga’s memoir highlights a citizen caught up in the chaos of East Africa, while being able to capture its beauty at the same time.

Binyavanga is consumed by writing, reading and learning and while in school, when his writing talent became obvious, much to the consternation of some of the teachers, this propelled him to lay a foundation for himself, writers in Kenya and the larger Africa, as they too pursued their passion and earnest in the arts.

Establishing the Kwani Trust, coordinating literary festivals and participating in numerous panel discussions, interviews and anthologies across the world, he became a household name. The close friends who knew him, will say that Binyavanga was impossible to forget and that his essays and outspoken messages led to hearty discussions across the globe.

‘One Day I Will Write About This Place,’ was first published by Kwani? In 2011 and it is available on Amazon, Barnes and Noble and major bookstores.

Reviewed by Beverley N Nsengiyunva

OLD DREAMS, NEW YEAR

 Go back to your old dreams! New Year, Old Dreams

Do you remember that time when you were gripped with so much excitement, because of a wonderful idea that left you sleepless at night, delirious during the day and breathless with pleasure?

Do you remember that old dream that you discarded because your spouse told you that it wouldn’t work, and your mother told you that you were too old to pursue it and your friend of decades told you that it didn’t suit you? 

2024-go back to that dream. Go back to that space where you dared to write, to believe and to put things into action. Go back to that dream where your faith in God was unparalleled and your belief in the ability given to you was untamable.

Go back to that place when every great thing you set your heart to, comes to pass. 

Many times those old dreams, manifested in our most effervescent, primal and authentic place are the dreams that need to be revived. Those old dreams that you replaced with mundane ideas because your mentor gave you bad vibes.

Go back to the real unstoppable you, the one that we need, that one that you miss, the one that you keep snuffing out. Rekindle that person, that energy.

That means you need to stop being addicted to life lessons and therapy. In 2023, you drowned yourself in therapy, wellness and motivation, until, unknowingly, you became addicted. You’ve learned enough. Your notebooks are saturated with knowledge. Just get back out there and live that dream. 

That old dream was the real dream.

A Magnificent 2024!