“Clear that man’s name. He doesn’t lie!” I have just asked George the Poet, aka George Mpanga, a question that has been bugging me for almost two years. A friend of mine once got into an Uber with a driver, who, after a little small talk, professed to be Mpanga’s dad. Was it true?
“Yeah, he Ubers every now and then,” Mpanga laughs when I recount the story. “God bless him, man, telling people about me. Sweet.”
