KANSIIME ONESMUS

REDUCING ECONOMIC LOSS OF DISASTERS:   kansmus@gmail.com Economic losses from disasters in low and middle-income countries are undermining efforts to achieve the Sustainable Development Goals and deprive governments of funds to spend on health, education, social protection and other important public needs. The world has had an enormous physiographic diversity and vast areal expanse though being devastated by the hostility and predatory by natives on the environment. The world has a fairly identical story on the unfriendliness to environment. When combined, such geographical variability with constant anthropogenic interference, people of any country get vulnerable to human made and natural hazards. Though Susceptibility to and Vulnerability from disasters differs from one community to another as is subject to the different levels of climatic wars and terrain. The destiny of disasters is an eternal one and so should be our battle. The climate change question has a c...

QUARANTINE, ECONOMY, ROPES AND RATS kansmus@gmail.com Shouldn’t I think that I am writing about suicide today? Then why the rope and the rats? Shouldn’t I think that I am writing anthrax today? Then why the quarantine? Or shouldn’t I think that I am writing poverty today? Then why the economy? I also do not know. Before my final punctuation, I shall have known what I am writing about. Today morning I forced myself from the tempting friendliness of my warm bed. I did not yawn like on other cold mornings. I stretched in the falling morning dew and shouted words in the title of this writing as I thought about what to ink down about it. Having travelled upcountry due to family demand, the imminent surging of the cost of living in the city (I am not shy to state but yes I mean food prices), the popular belief that it is ‘good to die’ from home and the countrywide need for social distancing, I am in the one-meter distance company of my young brother Crescent who does no...

At the fall of 365: kansmus@gmail.com Some of you think us started to understand after reading confessions of an economic hitman. My start was different. Instead I listened to the confessions of a traditional old man. In our rural home since 1998 when I was just 24 #months old preciously put as two years, there lived an octogenarian man, a one named Eliphaz by an Anglican missionary stophel in the year of the rain that fell the village’s remaining spiritual groove: the oak tree. He lived with us till he was a nonagenarian in 2009. We didn’t know his exact age but his tales of having been born in the season of the scotching sun and a drought that killed the only surviving camel in the Ankole Shaza of Sheema, we stretched down the historical and time series lane and established in approximation that he was 90 years old in 2009. Having been someone who knew he had lived for long and to have seen a one John Speke, Eliphaz thought good mathematical sequence would count 200 years fo...