How The Kavumas (not related), won the first ever Toastmasters Challenge

The premiere Toastmasters Challenge,  contest between poets and public speakers and curated by Beverley Nambozo Nsengiyunva,  was held during the #Babishai2016 Poetry Festival in Kampala in August .

Jordey Lonyo, contestant

The contestants,  four speakers from the Kampala Toastmasters Club and four poets, prepared for this challenge of a lifetime not knowing what was on the other side.
Phillip Matogo,  the most immodest,  hilarious and witty moderator in Kampala,  led us through the landscape of poets vs. public speakers,  the first ever challenge of its kind.

Phillip Matogo

With an audience weaving through highly tense moments,  biting their nails as one after the other contestant rose to present,  each of the three rounds of this challenge was mentally exhausting,  intellectually stimulating and entertaining too.

The first round left all of us on the edge of our seats and it took the judges a while before deliberating the two eliminated participants. Beatrice Lamwaka a Ugandan writer,   Tom Jalio previous Babishai poetry winner and Lekpele Nyamalon a poet from Liberia,  who judged the first round went through a painstaking process.

Connie Nshemereirwe, contestant

How The Kavumas (not related), won the first ever Toastmasters Challenge

With two eliminated,  three poets and three public speakers remained. The second round which required each contestant to use a prop was highly creative. From tree branches,  to ties and singing phones,  this round too brought out the best.

As with every competition,  there's always a winner.

Stephano Kiyemba

Davis Tashobya

Judge Beatrice Lamwaka receiving a certificate from Lynda Nabayiinda, Kampala Toastmasters President 

Paul Kavuma emerged the favourite of the Toastmasters who made it to the final round. Winnie Apio Kavuma, the love poet,  was the judge's favourite finalist too. Both bore eloquence,  appropriate language and imagery,  clever lines and unusual anecdotes.

In the final round,  the audience selected the topic which was water bottle. In her love poetry style,

Winnie manouevered her way into the audience's hearts with poise and surprising elements of spontaneity,  given she only had 2 minutes to prepare for such a bizarre topic,  Water bottle.
Paul Kavuma likewise elevated the meaning of public speaking with clever rhetoric and grace.
In the end,  the audience was left with the arduous task of voting for the winner.

Paul Kavuma, first runner-up

With a close 17 to 14 votes,  the love poet,  Winnie Apio Kavuma took the first ever Toastmasters Challenge trophy.
It was an evening of tremendous orature,  incredible talent and immensely creative dialogue.
Congratulations to Winnie and Paul who won dinner cards to the #Babishai2016 award-giving dinner and festival books of their choice.

Winnie Apio Kavuma (winner)

This Challenge, curated by Beverley Nambozo Nsengiyunva,  will be an annual event and if any Toastmasters club world-wide is interested in using the same for their events,  they should contact babishainiwe@babishainiwe.com

The Ball is in Your Court by Florence Katono

CCI Project

<The Ball is in Your Court>

by

<Florence Katono>

Thank you Toastmaster

Good evening Toastmasters and Guests

Impoverished, Nalwadda and Nakangu lamented about their worrisome condition. Their children wore tattered clothing and their diet was anything to be envied. To vanquish their repressive situation, they bore an idea to knit crotchets for sale. But that too required money! Between their brilliant idea and reality was only 1,000/=. Nalwadda said to Nakangu Tukozetutya? (What shall we do?) Nakangu responded katutandike, a word that has become my personal mantra and it means let’s get started.

Florence ,right

Ladies and Gentlemen, let’s get started!

Ó

The Birth Story

In the company of Auntie Margaret, mum sauntered to hospital on the eve of February 6. She delivered a baby girl who weighted about 3kgs. Dad a proud new father spread the news far and wide. He named her Florence after his sister Robinah Florence and Katono his father as is the norm in the Ganda culture. However, they encountered a problem, the discharge bill was a hefty 3,000/=, much higher than they had anticipated. If they had experienced that problem during this era, they would probably seek a presidential bail-out, but no, they had to solve it on their own.

Ó

Growing up

I fondly recall my early childhood as we grew up on a huge family estate surrounded by our close relations. Uncle Charles, Uncle Isaac, Jajja Nnalongo, my cousins; Jim, Sam, and Angella and my siblings; Happy, Polly, Noela and Hannington. It was the Katono dynasty!

Nature was our first teacher. We learned to tell time by the twittering of the birds in the skies; the moment we heard “mpaa abaana” (loosely translated as “give back my children”), we knew it was time to wake up, “chwi chwi chwi” by the afternoon weaver bird, and the croaks of the night frogs. In the evenings, we watched the orange sun sink into grandma’s garden. From the soils, we learned multiplication, when we sowed one cup of beans, we yielded five. We too learned the language of animals. Cows mooed for help but they made a special sound in acknowledgement of their masters.

Ó

1.     Schooling

Our schooling days were more fun; all children of the Katono dynast were ferried to Our Lady Nursery School in Uncle Isaac’s maroon Peugeot, Registration No: ‘UPE 439.’ He raced the engine and filled the air with of devil-dust-fog. He was the proud owner of the only car in Namumira village.  

Our parents struggled and sacrificed a lot to see us through school. Dad a civil servant only got his pay cheque months later and split until there was nothing left. Mum’s poor dressing was unexplainable at the time. Later, I was to understand that as a parent, her sacrifice is the reason; we have become responsible adults.

Ó

St. Agnes Naggalama

At the tender age of six, we were moved to boarding schools; Adjusting to boarding school life was difficult as visitation day which fell once a term.

At, St. Agnes, Naggalama, I attained the discipline of a catholic education. Sister Mary George guided my bible recitation. My favorite was the Letter of St. Paul to the Corinthians. Towards P.L.E, dad visited and handed me a bank slip, an Oxford mathematical set and he said; “I have done my humble duty as a man is bound to do. The ball is in your court.”

Ó

Nabisunsa Girls’ School

I joined Nabisunsa Girls’ Secondary school that’s the closet I had been to Kampala City. While there, I learned new vocabulary; cornflakes, quencher, and tariata biscuits. They tasted different from our home-made delicacies. In A-Level, I contested for a leadership position. It was the first time I ever spoke to a gathering. That terrifying moment was my introduction to public speaking. I remembered the words of my father and I braved the stage like a hunter does a charged lion. Ironically, I served as a routine prefect in charge of electricity even when we didn’t enjoy the luxury of electricity back home.

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2.     Makerere University Kampala

Towards final A-level exams, Dad said to me. ‘You are a peasants’ child. We have no money for private tuition. Your siblings must attend school too. This is the ball that will determine your future, kick it with all your might. Those words ignited a wild fire in my belly. I garnered a government scholarship at Makerere University where I earned my B.A Secretarial Studies and later MBA.

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3.     Career Life

Having sprouted my career tendrils at NWSC, I applied to join the central bank. All 700 of us were subjected to oral and written interviews. When I saw my former school mates, and junior lecturers, I knew that my chances were very stim, if at all but again my father’s words echoed in mind. That ball has led me to serve the Bank of Uganda for the last seven years.

Ó

4.     Parenting

As a young woman, I met a tall-dark and handsome-as-I-like-them-man. We had two beautiful girls, Kemmie and Gabbie.

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Conclusion/ Challenge

As I conclude, my father’s principal of the ball in the court resonates with Fredrick Douglas’s of self-made men? Who are those you may ask? They are men and women who owe little or nothing to birth, relationships, friendly surrounds, and wealth inheritance. They are architects of their own fortune.

In my humble opinion, to be self-made is to have a 3000 shilling baby transform into a first generation-central-bank-employee of the Katono dynasty!

To be self-made is when a child who read under the light of a kerosene lamp graduates with first class honors.

To be self-made is to raise children single-handed with oomph.

To be self-made is to know and appreciate that the ball is truly in your court.

The end