I wasted my life on that man â€"â€" Ndagire
Nov 11, 2005
<b>By Titus Serunjogi</b> She is Kampala’s best-loved theatre artiste; but she is too shy to walk along the streets during day. When she sings in nightclubs, couples cuddle close together.
By Titus Serunjogi She is Kampala’s best-loved theatre artiste; but she is too shy to walk along the streets during day. When she sings in nightclubs, couples cuddle close together. But she no longer has feelings for men. A material girl who is so obsessed about looking good, Ndagire takes us backstage into her independent life.
Take us through your most vivid childhood memories
I remember my parents would always lock me inside the car while they went to groove away to Afrigo band at the Cape Villa. All the city’s socialites, including then President Iddi Amin, used to gather at the Cape on weekend nights. And there was this Nassur who was never comfortable dancing while little children were looking at him. So my parents would not dare take me inside, fearing that Nassur would have them lashed.
Do you think your life is a comedy?
I think life is a stage; we bow out when we die. But I find it difficult to leave out my comedy while millions of people are looking up to me as their role model. Someone out there expects Mariam Ndagire to be an angel. And I am sure my fans would feel ashamed if I ever acted silly while offstage.
You’ve been into drama for nearly 20 years now. What has been your favourite alter-ego in theatre?
I acted as Mrs White in a 1994 play Akafubutuko. My character was a Muganda woman who had been married to a European for so long; she began behaving like a white lady. She gave me the chance to live out my fantasies, and to express myself in the most creative way. Till this day, the nickname has stuck. Go to Bat Valley and ask for Mrs White; you will be sure to get me.
Are you too obsessed with looking good, Mrs White? Yeah! I have this obsession for Revlon creams and MAC lip-gloss. I almost cannot resist buying the creams whenever I see them in a beauty shop. And when I am abroad, I just go on a shopping spree for make-up and dresses. I like sleeveless maxi dresses. They show off my less fleshy arms but hide my heavier backside. (I think God made my hind side too fat!) I like to wear brightly coloured shawls over dark maxi dresses. That’s my style.
Ever had any bad hair days? Never! I visit Lady Charlotte every week because I cannot bear to have the same hairstyle much longer than that. That is also why I never wear braids. I prefer wigs because they will give me a new look instantly, even without spending several hours at the salon. A new wig costs well about sh300,000. Thereafter, I will pay about sh50,000 at the salon to have it styled up. I also like weaves, like the one I wore in the video for Kiki onvuma.
Your Kiki onvuma sent very many people gossiping; not only because of your dazzling hairstyle, but also the drama in the video. Were you really trying to tell us something about your own love life? No, not really. Everyone has seen women fighting for a man. In the end, it is always the most loud-mouthed woman who loses out. Of course many people related Kiki onvuma to what I was going through just then, and so there was a lot of gossip. But it was just that, empty gossip.
And that Ndagire-Segawa-Wannyana saga sent tongues wagging for months, before it finally faded. Feed us in on the latest plot in the series. I don’t want to talk about … I just want to forget it, absolutely! I can’t forgive myself for having wasted a big part of my life on this man. And whatever the future holds, I just won’t go through it with another husband domineering over me. My son Trevor is all I need now. Let’s get straight here. You have the money, the fame, the looks…everything. I expect that men send you flying kisses from the audience and then go on to hunt for you backstage. How do you sneak away? I show them that I’m no longer available to their lies, just that. I’m so fed up with affairs now, and I would be so disgusted to see any man coming up to sweet talk me now.
So, don’t you ever fantasise? No, not at all. I grew up with my mother who was always telling me that hunks were nothing much more than beautiful words. And it wasn’t long before I proved her right. When I begun acting, men old enough to be my grandfathers would come up to court me. It was not only disgusting but also funny. But their sweet words never came to anything. The stage is so disillusioning; a male fan courts you just because he has seen you acting before a full auditorium and he thinks he will be building his ego by getting you in his net as well. But after that, you remain alone, nursing a broken heart. If only girls knew, they would stop crying after hunks.
Would you take Trevor with you to a Desert Island? Who would love him for me if I left him behind? Of course I would take him along; a Shania Twain CD too.
Ends
Take us through your most vivid childhood memories
I remember my parents would always lock me inside the car while they went to groove away to Afrigo band at the Cape Villa. All the city’s socialites, including then President Iddi Amin, used to gather at the Cape on weekend nights. And there was this Nassur who was never comfortable dancing while little children were looking at him. So my parents would not dare take me inside, fearing that Nassur would have them lashed.
Do you think your life is a comedy?
I think life is a stage; we bow out when we die. But I find it difficult to leave out my comedy while millions of people are looking up to me as their role model. Someone out there expects Mariam Ndagire to be an angel. And I am sure my fans would feel ashamed if I ever acted silly while offstage.
You’ve been into drama for nearly 20 years now. What has been your favourite alter-ego in theatre?
I acted as Mrs White in a 1994 play Akafubutuko. My character was a Muganda woman who had been married to a European for so long; she began behaving like a white lady. She gave me the chance to live out my fantasies, and to express myself in the most creative way. Till this day, the nickname has stuck. Go to Bat Valley and ask for Mrs White; you will be sure to get me.
Are you too obsessed with looking good, Mrs White? Yeah! I have this obsession for Revlon creams and MAC lip-gloss. I almost cannot resist buying the creams whenever I see them in a beauty shop. And when I am abroad, I just go on a shopping spree for make-up and dresses. I like sleeveless maxi dresses. They show off my less fleshy arms but hide my heavier backside. (I think God made my hind side too fat!) I like to wear brightly coloured shawls over dark maxi dresses. That’s my style.
Ever had any bad hair days? Never! I visit Lady Charlotte every week because I cannot bear to have the same hairstyle much longer than that. That is also why I never wear braids. I prefer wigs because they will give me a new look instantly, even without spending several hours at the salon. A new wig costs well about sh300,000. Thereafter, I will pay about sh50,000 at the salon to have it styled up. I also like weaves, like the one I wore in the video for Kiki onvuma.
Your Kiki onvuma sent very many people gossiping; not only because of your dazzling hairstyle, but also the drama in the video. Were you really trying to tell us something about your own love life? No, not really. Everyone has seen women fighting for a man. In the end, it is always the most loud-mouthed woman who loses out. Of course many people related Kiki onvuma to what I was going through just then, and so there was a lot of gossip. But it was just that, empty gossip.
And that Ndagire-Segawa-Wannyana saga sent tongues wagging for months, before it finally faded. Feed us in on the latest plot in the series. I don’t want to talk about … I just want to forget it, absolutely! I can’t forgive myself for having wasted a big part of my life on this man. And whatever the future holds, I just won’t go through it with another husband domineering over me. My son Trevor is all I need now. Let’s get straight here. You have the money, the fame, the looks…everything. I expect that men send you flying kisses from the audience and then go on to hunt for you backstage. How do you sneak away? I show them that I’m no longer available to their lies, just that. I’m so fed up with affairs now, and I would be so disgusted to see any man coming up to sweet talk me now.
So, don’t you ever fantasise? No, not at all. I grew up with my mother who was always telling me that hunks were nothing much more than beautiful words. And it wasn’t long before I proved her right. When I begun acting, men old enough to be my grandfathers would come up to court me. It was not only disgusting but also funny. But their sweet words never came to anything. The stage is so disillusioning; a male fan courts you just because he has seen you acting before a full auditorium and he thinks he will be building his ego by getting you in his net as well. But after that, you remain alone, nursing a broken heart. If only girls knew, they would stop crying after hunks.
Would you take Trevor with you to a Desert Island? Who would love him for me if I left him behind? Of course I would take him along; a Shania Twain CD too.
Ends