Once I said

You were fire

And I was water.

And you said

that is why we attract,

To which I laughed and said

No. We actually destruct.

Yes, destruction.


We cannot exist

In the same place,

without the annihilation

of one.

We can only fuse

in a death.

Where either I,

die to you

and resurrect as a flame;

A wild roaring flame.

Or you fade into me

only to rise again,

as a quiet ripple

or a gentle wave.

Death is a tunnel

under the ground,

cold and dark.

But I would brave it,

If I entered as you;

A flaming torch

blazing through.

And for you friend

the voyage should not be so dreary;

if you dove in as me;

the arm of a river

gushing through.

©  Namuddu Ann Lindah.



My beloved Kukudom,

I greet you all in the name of the flying spaghetti monstor. How have you been ? I hope that by now you have given up on those new years resolutions because you have realizedthat your vices are mightier than you.

You are seeing this entry simply because I emerged triumphant in a bloody brawl with the reigning dark Lord of laziness and his indefatigable foot soldiers of perpetual distraction. Otherwise, I have been in decent shape doing what I do all year around. Sleeping at my day job and scouring the internet for get rich quick schemes in the deep night.
In the last few lectures, after detailing what a bad hug consists of, I am finally happy to rid the world of bad hugs once and for all by writing a final instruction on the delicate art. And without further ado, I will plunge into it.

The sentiment behind the hug.

Every good hug has its roots in a warm sentiment in the mind of the hug donor towards the recipient. You have got to tap into that bed of feelings whether they are platonic or amorous and let them guide you. It could be feelings of delight at the sight of the person or bitter sweet feelings at the moment of parting; these are the common feelings one is likely to have for people with whom they are acquainted. These feelings when tapped into will infuse the warmth into the action and make it pleasant for the parties involved. However if you find yourself in a situation where you have to hug a person for whom you feel no emotional attachment whatsoever, say for instance people you have just met at a gathering or at a party, randoms with whom you have only shared mutual friends and oxygen so far. With no warm feels towards these people, you will have to go through the hug motions that fabricate warmth. Which brings me to the physical aspect of things.

The compass direction of the limbs.

The direction of the arms depend on a few things. Height, size and nature of relationship of the hugging parties.
In the instance where one person is just a few inches taller than the other or the same height, you can’t go wrong if each party opens their arms in the fashion of the compass direction, where each person’s arms are held out diagonally, with one limb facing the north east and the other limb facing the south west. Then, in order to fit like a neat little jigsaw, the other party’s arms will stretched out to face the North east and south east. The initiator of the hug is the one who gives a cue on where the arms go when he opens his arms. (This is a manual for boys/men hence the pronoun.)

In the instance where the guy is a giant and the girl a midget.

If tiptoeing and hunching makes things uncomfortable then, the warmest hug position maybe the one where the guy’s arms go around the upper back and the girl’s arms go a round the upper torso and then the cheek rests on the hug donor’s torso or chest. I will move on from this because I am beginning to sound like an instructor on sex.

In the instance where a girl is a giant and the guy a midget.

This is tricky. You cannot follow the previous model because a guy resting his head on a woman’s stomach or bosom may be filed in the offensive section. There is no solution except for the girl to graciously lower herself, by bending her knees a little until they reach head level with the guy and have their hug.

Relationship status.

There is a kind of hugging that may be limited to people who are dating or having an amorous relationship. That is where a girl wraps their arms around the neck of a guy and a guy puts their arms around the lower part of a girl’s waist. I mean its not written anywhere that only heterosexual couples who are dating should have this hug but it may be too intimate for friends, or newly acquainted people.

The position of the heads.
Ever been caught in that awkward moment where you get into a hug and your heads do an awkward dance before you find where to put them? Or even worse, have a head on collision where your foreheads bang so hard bright sparks fly. Well this has to be intuitive but in order to avoid this, the initiator of a hug may have to keep their head in a neutral place until the recipient of the hug has found a direction to put their head and then let your neck accommodate it. Otherwise if you sway your head to the east too quickly when it is what the other person had in mind, then this is how your craniums will launch into the bachata dance. And unlike the synchronised swing of hips of Bachata dancers, the Bachata of heads is ridiculous.So once the heads are in place and the arms are in place, the next motions are what communicate warmth.

The wrap.

The wrap is where after pulling someone into an embrace you wrap your arms around them as far as best as your skeletal and muscle construction can permit. This sounds obvious but I have been in too many hugs where people hug you but do not really have full contact with you. When with their arms, they construct a trench of air between you and them that puts are inside their embrace but not into contact with them. I refer you to the previous post where I talk about the types of crappy hugs. When you are hugging someone, it is a full body affair so, wrap your arms around them completely and be felt or go home. I find it offensive when I have this moat of air, this teensy lagoon of air between me and someone I am supposed to be hugging. In that little lagoon of air floats huge questions like, whether I am fragrant in a way that is unpleasant or whether this person’s friendship or love is genuine. So remove all doubts and questions by filling that vacuum. People try to distract people from the fact that they are not hugging them fully by rubbing their backs or patting them or babbling on about the things that their hug is not communicating, but some of us are not fooled. We can see through your schtick. However, just some clarification on the “pat-pat” and the little rubs while hugging; these are not bad things in themselves but they should not be used to substitute warmth in a hug.
The gentle squeeze.

And finally the cheese to this macaroni is the gentle squeeze. This is the one thing that distinguishes good hug donors from bona fide hug donors. This is the one little action that communicates the sentiment beneath the hug. The gentle squeeze says, It’s been long.” I will miss you. Take good care. I am really happy to see you. I love you. You will be okay.
The gentle squeeze can take from half a minute to however long you can sustain it and remember, its gentle. Its just a few seconds or more of extra pressure placed on the other person. Its gentle enough not to kill but hard enough to be felt.
That is basically a great hug for you and now for the other questions in the previous comments.

Duration of the hug.
I think for people who are not so well acquainted with each other it should be as brief as 5-10 seconds. It can be 1 minute and beyond depending on the nature of people’s friendship and the reason behind the hug. Hugs meant to console the hurting should last long I believe. Lasting until any crying has stopped or abated or the person has calmed down.

To squeeze or not to squeeze butts.

This site and the administrator of this site cannot give you lease to squeeze the butt of your interest, only the person attached to that butt can, so I guess it would be polite to ask for permission from the owner of butt. Otherwise, squeezing butts of unwilling or unsuspecting people is a felony.

To sniff or not to sniff hair.
I don’t know fam, I guess there is no harm in this, if there is consent before hand.

Those where the questions I received in the comments of the previous posts, and I have addressed them as best as I can.  As I approach the end, I will end on a note explaining why I make a fuss out of the hug. I guess for me it comes from what I have learnt to associate hugs with from the way my mother hugs me.
For mother and I, the bulk of all things communicable and non communicable is loaded into a hug. When we see each other after a long time, we hug each other closely to make up for all the time lost while we were apart.


My mother hugs me to affirm that I am there in the flesh. And when we are parting like when I have to go away for another month of work far away from her, before I leave, she says, come here and let me embrace you first. And when we embrace, we each take turns in saying; “May God keep you for me my beloved until I see you again.”
And this is where I come from when I hug people. Hugs for me are my way of affirming your presence and compensating for the time we have been physically apart at the time of reuniting. And at the time of parting, hugs are a form of prayer. A way of marking my people with my love, sending a plea to providence to look after them and save them for me for another time. It’s also a way of having one last opportunity to be close to them and carrying that feeling of closeness with me.


Whomsoever hath reached the bottom of this post, is herewith awarded a Degree in the Art of Hugs and an infinite license to donate hugs to the female masses from the Prestigious University of the Headless Chicken. Congratulations to y’all valedictorians and all the best.

Till next time, I remain.

That birdie with no head.


Haphephobia; The fear of being touched.


Esteemed followers of the world’s most sought after chicken, I hope that this post  finds you at one of those uncommon hours where  a human in a third world country is not only disease and debt free but also sure of what is for dinner.

I sat at my keyboard with the intention of writing the last post on the subject in which I would give  final instructions on how not to be the crappy hug donor and also give clarification on matters that were forwarded to my desk pertaining the subject of hugging.

Matters like the constitutionally approved duration of a hug, the compass direction of the limbs, to sniff or not to sniff hair, to squeeze or not to squeeze butts whilst in hug among other concerns. But I thought that before those issues were addressed, there was need to cater to the needs of a certain section of humanity. The ones who loathe hugging.

I will let you know that behind every great hug is the desire to give and receive one and from my many years of scientific research on the discipline of hugging, I have deduced that a sizeable chunk of crappy hug donors are people who find hugging uncomfortable.


They find the entire act too intimate for their social pallet and because they are often too polite to decline a pair of open arms under the unshifting watch of puppy eyes, they will time and again find themselves trapped in that web of human tentacles they so dread.

While another would instinctively chide these fellas for being  cold blooded, I find myself empathizing with them because an embrace being one of those things that necessitates the participation of the entire body, is quite intimate.

So today’s post is for you disciples of the kuku for whom the act of hugging feels like being an uncompensated actor in a soft porn movie.  I got some tips for you on how to extract yourselves from the meaty mess.

Numero Uno: Decline the hug offer.

If someone approaches you with open arms.

You could…

fawn-running-fast flee for your life.

Or astound them

deerwith a  church faint… 🙂

Or Take inspiration from this possum.

Hit the floor with a loud thud

possumand play dead.

There are tonnes of moves you can make but here at the headless chicken we are all about diplomacy, so I advise that you handle this like adults with some level of integrity.

If someone makes for you with out stretched arms.

Take a step back, put a palm or both your palms in an x form on your chest and say “I am sorry; I am not given to hugging, but I am really happy to meet you or safe journey or good riddance… whatever you can say to sugar-coat the pill.


Now I do not promise that it will not be awkward or that no offense will be taken. Someone dear reader, once did something similar to me; like I made a beeline for this guy’s chest and he basically moon walked into a wall and said he doesn’t like hugging. I am still seeing a therapist on Tuesdays.

The upside to it is that I never attempted to initiate a hug with them and since then to avoid putting anyone in that awkward position, whenever I meet new people I want to hug, I will always ask them first. I say something like, “I want to hug you, may I ?”

Of course there will be incidences like this…


And you will meet people like this…


and others like this


And some situations will culminate to this


But stand strong. The force will be with you.

So if you don’t hug what then can you do to show warmth and friendliness in social situations with minimal body contact?

  1. Well running up in second position to the warm embrace, my favorite form of greeting is from the people who gave us sushi and pagodas. The bow. Respect and humility in one swoosh.


2.You could put your hands behind your back, and smile winningly. This is a subtle message to the other person that your hands are already occupied.


3.There is the hand shake.


4.And the Fist bump


6. Or the “La bise!” The double kiss! The French way of greeting!


I know you think that kissing is way out of line but…  La bise, is a way of greeting or saying good bye where you lean in to kiss the “air” besides someone’s cheek. The rules of La Bise is that the lips never touch the cheeks. It conveys warmth or good will without touch.

To avoid situations like…


Always initiate the form of greeting. Give subtle signals to the other person about what the course of your greeting is going to take. For instance  sticking out your hand in a handshake invitation from a few yards away so that there is no mistake about what its going to be. And smile with all your might while at it.

Have the entire smile package complete with crow feet at the eyes, bared teeth, a slight gaping of the mouth, with the beef curtains that fall across your jaw swept to the side.


There you go my huggophobics all is not lost for your kind. It takes tact and perhaps some balls to extract yourselves from this little problem. However should you lack the said tact, then for you friend I suggest that you follow me to the next class, where you will learn to fake it until you make it.

So till then I stay,

Her Royal Highness,

The Beheaded Chicken.


Wakuku wangu, the wait is over. Receive your queen as she comes to put an end to nocturnal mulling on whether you have been hugging women wrong your whole life. Without further ado below are the five types of crappy hugs I have been pulled into by the brother; ever since I left the hospital as a screaming wee child.
The Good Ol’ Llama


As brought to you by the Church Boi. (Read Bwoy)
These ones hug you as if they are afraid that if they got closer to you, they would accidentally fertilize one of your eggs.

But first permit me to credit these brothers for knowing how to work a girl up for the hug. Perhaps it’s the joy of the Lord but these brothers; they always got that smile popping and that warm heeeeeeey and that sweet heaaaarrrrt. Mmmmm….Come heeere!  Before they unhinge their arms to angle 180 degrees.
And you infected by their enthusiasm, will scuttle into their arms only for them to morph into a llama right there before your sight; their butts launching off to the southern hemisphere at the speed of light taking with them the rest of their body parts, chest, legs, stomach, groin area leaving you with just the edges of their shoulder blades to hang on.


All the while they will be babbling away like overdue kettles, about missing you, asking you where you been at, how you ditched them to destruct you from the fact that they are doing the Llama on you. This babbling is followed by little rapid pats on the back.

So much action in one moment like a paramedic on a victim of a car collision. All this done to bamboozle you. Church Bois, we are not bamboozled.

The Great ole  Mummy of Egypt
There is no redemption for you O’  Mummy.  You wonder why they bother.

They trick you into a hug and as soon as you get there, they die in your embrace; their hands droop stiffly to their sides like slabs of beef in a butchers window.

Their hard chests stay pushed out, doing nothing to accommodate yours. Their heads don’t tilt to make a nook for your neck. There is no warmth. No tenderness. No love. Nothing. You are hugging King Tutenkhamun who reigned in the year 1236 and  has been rudely roused from his regal eternal sleep by some freshman wizards in Hogwarts monkeying round wiv’ spells dey know numpin’ about.

I never hug a mummy twice. I don’t even pursue a friendship no matter what they are like outside of it. Their hugs belie a fear of intimacy or vulnerability. They seem to be fortifying themselves from the female body because they do not trust it or themselves with it. They also come off as inherently selfish people. It don’t matter if you are my man’s side chick. I speak the blood of the lamb against the Mummy in your life ma sistah.

The King Kong aka the Boa constrictor.
I should love the King Kong, it means well. But the King Kong is evident of ignorance of the anatomy of the female and its capacities. This hug would be perfect if you didn’t have to fight for your life while in there.

Having your whole life flash before your eyes as your pupils become dilated; while you see the light framing a winged creature. A winged creature telling you to come to the light and other distant voices equally warning you against going to the light.

These ones are happy to see you. And so are you to see them. You will fly into their arms but that is the last you will recall before the pain of the squeeze wipes out your cognitive abilities.

You will leave that hug happy that someone loves you that much but you will have fractures in places you didn’t know you had bones.



Legend of the migrating chest aka the fleeing hollow aka the unraveling croissant aka Fuck Dis Shit.
So with this guy, he will hug you despite the risk of dying from close range gunshot wounds emanating from two fully loaded guns. Guns whose trigger is activated by high sensitivity 900mgpxl touch screen nips attached to these Bauer automatics disguised innocently as boobs. Boobs hidden in a bra. Bra covered by a pink blouse with flowers. Sneaky bitches.
He is a brave guy, our guy because his face does not betray the fear that he feels even at the moment when you close in on him with your guns.

He is brave, our man. He will take it bravely like a man from the foot of Mt. Elgon before the knife on the day of Imbalu.
But he is no buffoon, our guy. He will open his arms, you will walk in confidently, with your loaded guns and he will pull you in and you will smile. And he will curve in wards like a boomerang stick.


And that space will call you to fill it so you will draw closer to meet his chest.
And he will curve further in…
And you will draw in…
And he will curve further in. At this point, he will introduce you to the little slow back rub. To beguile you further into the trap…
Until you draw in.
And in.
And in.
And in.
In pursuit of his chest, but you won’t catch him. You will live in eternal frustration; in the space between the finger of man and his creator in Michelangelo’s creation of Adam in the Sistine chapel.

Because this brother is no fool sister! This brother is woke fam!
He is aware of the plot against his life but he has vowed that no grave stone of his will read that he died by the woman and her breast.
It’s a losing battle, your spinal code is about to snap from the strain. You lay down arms and retreat out of his arms.
There is a smile on his face and a severe back ache.


The Tarantula.
He is not clumsy. He was molded by the clums.

Dem hands dey everywhere in da wrong places. Dem head. He donno where it should go.


He forces you into awkward positions. Your bodies do a little awkward dance as they decide where them heads go, you smile awkwardly and you accidentally bump teeth in a clangy kiss.


Shit gets even more awkward. No one is calling a truce, dis hug happening at 23:00 hours GMT.

You finally lock arms necks and chests. But there is something wrong with the picture, y’alls can’t swallow saliva comfortably whilst in embrace.

Y’alls squirming, wiggling and waddling like two great tarantulas mating.
Until someone sprays this freakery with one firm gust of Farco Rapid Kill.



I have deliberately left out the type that is a conglomeration of all the above. The Llama-Mummy-KingKong-Tarantula-Fleeting-Hollow. Because its beyond me fam.

Cuz this bwoi needs more than an online class. If you fall in this category, choose a hustle child. Kuku can’t help you sonny.
There kingdom people, take a hard look in the mirror. Is the man in the mirror a Llama? A Tarantula? Only you know at this point so go see your parish priest.
Despair not though because next week I will be coming through with that post on how to make you maestros in the discipline of hugging. All your questions and concerns that lie in the comment section of the previous post will be addressed too so… till then,
Don’t do what our Lord Jesus or Maama Fiina wouldn’t do.

And remember nobody loves you reader, more than a headless chicken running up and down the streets of Masajja.



There are two piles of men in the geosphere. Great huggers and Crappy huggers.
I have rallied and held one woman protests both nude and veiled before many a man friend on the issue but as is the manner of men, I have been flagged down as one more female who has chosen the vocation of raising mountains out of molehills.

Just like you reader, I too thought that after all these years on this site; I Kuku Queen of Masajja and surrounding slums going as far as Nakivubo Canal, will be writing on things that matter to humanity e.g

A diet pill that works overnight, a strong pesticide for the Zika Virus, YouTube video downloaders that actually work for owners of WARID promotional phones, a vaccine against receding hairlines of black girls, AIDS, a short cut out of the friend zone et cetera but it’s hard to think up solutions to world problems when you can’t even get a decent hug from a brother.
And browsing through the statistics from my hug data base…
Yes I see a hand up*
Ziggy D: Tjsdhgf ehsjksdb hxbd hedhsjhtex?
Oh yes…yes… Mr. Ziggy D; every girl has a hug data base…. (Student interrupts)
Ziggy D: But egdeggghftvhhgu hhedh eegdygdhenbwatk ehduao;;fefshvdgwfdtefdhd?
Well Ziggy, most girls disguise the data base under the Monthly Period App.
If we have locked arms with you; the works of your chest and hands have been entered into Microsoft Excel by way of spread sheets which hold information that helps us decide at the end of each year which men are having their hugging rights annulled.

I mean small things like this are a window into who you are and what you are capable of as a person. If you fail at the simplest act of intimacy how far deep has the tap root of this flaw burrowed?
Of course we being the fairer sex in whichever way you understand the word make sure that this annulment does not come without prior warning. There will be signs like squirming in arms of hug donor, staring quizzically in eyes after the ordeal to see if we are live on Punked, subtle lectures in the art and eventually a restraining order if all efforts yield zilch.
For further comprehension, If I may, below is a graph for you showing the rising number of crappy huggers per second against the great huggers.




Okay, I was reading Harry Potter through most of my classes so that  graph makes as much sense to you as it does to me.

Let me use something simpler like a pie chart because it resembles a pizza and everything is simpler for me to comprehend when converted to food.



As the above mathematical chapatti demonstrates, we are in trouble.
If I am to get rid of all crappy huggers in my life my hugging pool will dry up to just three men in the whole wide world.
-My father who lives continents away from me.
-My best guy friend whom I haven’t seen since the year of graduation when I was 22,  I am now 25.)

Then this other guy friend I see once in months, great hugger he is, but I can’t hug him too much.


Why can’t you hug him too much, aren’t you a feminist wombyn running wild and free with the wolves?
Ummm I can’t because adulthood, boundaries, Brexit and the Holocaust. You get it? So inspite of the fact that one of my greatest strengths in problem solving, is fleeing from looming problem. I have to girl up and lock horns with this bull or I risk living a male hug deficient life.
I mean I do get hugs from my girlfriends and they are awesome but the man hugs need to come through too.

A good man hug is essential due to its medicinal properties. To mention but a few; it can give you the warm fuzzies, grow your edges back, cure cramps, detangle your natural kinky hair, expand your vocal range, wipe out acne, give you prominent cheekbones, make you lose weight etc.
Gentlemen the health of womanity rests upon the elasticity of your biceps and triceps. Use them for the greater good. Use them or risk losing them to evolution which might mutilate them over time leaving you in the form of Obelisks.
But before I teach you the delicate art of hugging a woman; its important that we talk about the  five types of crappy hugs that need to be buried alive in a deep mass grave.
Kingdom duty calls right now so till next post.




Wrapped in the weightless shawl

of a cold September’s air;

A pair of arms

wired with a current

of unearthly gentleness,

into a vortex of warmth

ushered me.

Wherein, the clot in my veins


and my blood

with a new fluidity ran,

like candle wax

after baptism in flame.



Thick tendrils of fear

Encircle my head and limbs,

Coiling and uncoiling

Leaving their icy caress

All over my body

Yet I keep putting

one leg

in front

of the other.



the tall slim trees

with their white trunks

like giant bridesmaids

towering over me


watching me

walk down

my aisle

of dry raspy leaves

and snapping twigs.


Black canopies

swaying in the breeze

permit streams

of ivory light

to cast shapes

before my sight,

Weird shapes that move

in the manner of dance;


in a music-less

Macabre theater show.

While up in the branches

an audience of bats

sits comfortably

upside down

watching all of us.


In the midst of

a dense fog

of sleep,

I thought

I heard you

call my name.

Knowing well

That my neck

against the blade

of night;

is the ransom

required of me

to see you,

I came

And here I am

The way

I know you want me.


In red lace;


at my throat

and on my wrists,

Mild perfume

behind my ears

And my braids

In three thick plaits,

Like a wedding veil

Sweeping the forest floor.


Now hurry!

My love…

And meet me halfway

For the heart of the forest

is far

yet I long to be with you.


You know,

I never remember

Our last meeting

And I…


Forget your face.

Perhaps because

in each goodbye

You always


my memory clean,

So that

I do not miss you

How kind you are!


But even though

I do not know your face,

I will know it’s you

When I see you.



the ground

where you will stand

will shimmer.

The stones

at my throat

And on my wrists

will sparkle

when they catch your eyes.

And the trees

will become Maypoles

And the bats

will become butterflies

And the dry leaves

will become velvety petals

And I will bury my face

in your warm neck,

and you will sniff my perfume

and sigh.


And we will take our time


lucky for us,


are not

of the night.

For us here,


reels on and on…


How I long

to be with you!