Dear
Mr. President,
Greetings
in the name of the citizens of the Republic of Uganda.
Your
Excellency, I have been having a few random ideas flying through my mind and
neither Andrew Mwenda nor Tamale Mirundi have been sensitive enough to tickle
my fancy and that is not to say that they do not show cause for their paychecks as
required. They are always on time, with the same unconvincing ideas; in the same
old 1990 delivery fashion. Entertain no impulse to fire them especially since
jobs are hard to come by in this our country. While we are at it Mr. President,
I went to your school but kinda missed the memo on sciences. If you had warned
us earlier, perhaps we would have cheated those chemical equations and become
scientists. Whatever it would have taken to become doctors and stand a chance
at being appointed Prime Minister.
Alas, we went to law school,
sweated through voluminous law reports and grueling bar exams only to find out
that we could not even produce a Chief Justice!!
Seeing as, the rungs of citizenry and
political importance do not explain where my chances lie in the possibility of addressing
you in person, I hope that this whisper in the jungles somewhere in your
jurisdiction will reach your most prized earshot. I have been reliably advised
that the walls, trees and potholes have ears and as such I have no doubt that
you my President will hear of my rumblings.
I
do not seek a sack of green paper though I could use a few of the subject
myself. That’s kind of you to ask but no, I did not partake the pilau on Entebbe
road. That’s okay, I had my rolex guy fix something although it gave me a
few issues since he was always on the lookout for Musisi’s boys. I was not
enumerated but I am consoled that many of my peers weren’t either. I doubt
Amama Mbabazi would pick me out of a crowd of white tourists so no, I do not
speak for him either.
Given
the delicacy of my surmise and while I grope for the right words, I am cognizant
of the oiling that even such an effort might mudstick. Overcome by caution, I
attempt broad strokes and labour to steer clear of the gutter.
Allow
me to speak freely Your Excellency.
Your
Excellency, it is well known among the cattle keepers that a kraal is best kept
in a certain way. It is necessary that milk is flowing and so the generous
adders need to be found, nurtured and preserved. A young heifer or two will do no
harm though certainly the newly born are required to stimulate the milking
process. For some reason (and perhaps not to say Africa learnt its polygamy
tendencies from this), a kraal is best kept with one bull. I propose we refer
this research to the generals in NAADS to advise us on whether this speaks for
the possibility of HIV and other STD’s among animals. In the meantime we
appreciate that it is not impossible to find that a single bull serves the
purpose of ensuring we get the exact breed of herd we require.
Humans
seldom live in kraals. The last time I checked this was the closest deduction I
could make but its adequacy is not beyond reproach. In the circumstances, they
may or may not mind cross-pollination. Some like their bulls black, some mixed,
others local or exotic whichever classification we follow. Bottom-line humans have taste. I wonder though
whether their instances where a choice must be made for them lest they choke in
their own indecision.
Do you think Mr. President you
will one day contest against the Kabaka since it doesn’t look like the toofali
man will ever pull a ka Judas? Oh would he?
The
Whiteman came and said that we were the closest to the species with tails. It
wasn’t flattering but our skin colour was not so different from that of the
monkeys and since this was in our science books we were tempted to consider the
possibility. When our teachers marked our answers in regard to evolution to the
affirmative, we even believed the theories to be true. After all, there is no
denying that we relish our bananas to the point of having a Republic to that
nomenclature. Did the gun make us more secure and less prone to foreign
invasion? Maybe, maybe not. One thing is clear though, the barrel made our
reverence and aggression to each other more achievable. In which case the man
who posited the theory of survival for
the fittest would be turning in his grave, glad that we seal even the
loopholes in his summation.
Is it true Mr. President that honey never runs
out of a hive as long as the queen wills so?
Are
we then just a bunch of animals killing each other and eating bananas?
Sometimes there is no telling how untrue this is. The bananas are sometimes processed,
served on plates with flowers; more expensive and even genetically modified. Clad
in impressive apparel, desk phones, smart apps and wintry conditions in the
heat of the day, we enjoy the age old delicacy. We have reduced the number of
red faces around us and perhaps feel less inferior of our appearances than we
once did. Our baffling opinions of the people we walk this earth with have been
glittered in euphemisms, clichés, satire and one liners. We have concealed our
more boisterous outbursts in pouts, selfies, memes, emojis; lol and xoxo! How I
wish there was a clearer indicator that we are now the wiser for it!
Is it true Mr. President that you
would forgive anyone who attempted a temangalo on statehouse, or some
temangalos are more equal than others?. What if the person has not been with
you longer than UB40?
I
have a hunch that I beg your indulgence for me to pursue with feeble effort. The
Is it true Mr. President what
Mugabe said, that since the Queen of England has been for generations and two
Bushes have covered the House; that it is possible for the vision to only rise
from one sauce pan? ( I know he is old that one, but I
was just wondering?)
The
eloquence of those that get to the helm is a thing of old. The canopy of power by
the powers that be is as far reaching as it ever was. The karma of grand ideas
that get modified, filtered and refined in the tranquility of human nature and
basic instincts is not close to extinction. The illusion of one more thing to
be accomplished to get the pieces in place, the whim to clutch to straws that
plastic roses are; in the hope that they hold the one anchor to rejuvenate the
fast disappearing ticks of the clock. The inclination for a man to chase a lady
in the hope that all the secrets of the universe lie somewhere between her
legs, the hope that life as we know it is unlikely to fly away beyond where we
have perched. The possibility to twist
the flow out of a heart with the prowess of seasoned judgment of men who
have done it before-sharp and glib and able to connect with the average folk
while we are at it!
Is it true Mr. President that you
would forgive Lukwago if he joined the army?, that you would send him to
Somalia or Juba to fight bad guys?
And
so well meaning men built the Titanic. Well-meaning people jumped on board and
replayed the ride of a life time. The Titanic picked some on course and
jettisoned others. Those that stuck though, smiled and heartily chuckled with
gratitude at such a lease of life. The sails fluttered and waltzed through the
wind without a hitch and life was never more glamorous. Oblivious to the mauling,
many a sojourner had no commiserations for the pitiful whimpering of a broken man
because they were seldom aware of the deft maneuvers aligning the strings.
I
breathe and puff an air that is crisp and invigorating. But again, the only
Titanic I know of, I watched in the eyes of Leonardo Di Caprio, the only Caesar
and Napoleon I know, I read in the curriculum you approved. The only George Orwell
and Ibsen I know I found in the pages of a book.
Is it true Mr. President that MPs
have Ipads? Nga they are not on twitter? Can you imagine they even fail to make
quorum for some sittings, and then they lose cases on technicalities at our expense?
Do they not check their whatsapp messages on those ipads? I hope they don’t be
watching bad manners on those gadgets.
Not
to say that everything written is devoid of hyperbole and neither that in
writing our own stories we must jettison everything extraneous that pokes into
our recipe. Some of the matter that forms our environment are the branches that
fall off trees, stones chiseled out of ordinary rock and those out of precious
stones and all. It never ceases to amaze though, what the human hand is capable
of. We have watched motion pictures where stars cut of their fingers or whole
limbs to evade more ghastly possibilities and perhaps that is just a technique
and master stunt work to wreck in box office ratings.
Is it true Mr. President that
Hon. Ssekandi is the Vice President of Uganda? Okay, Bukenya used to grow rice
but what to VPs of these days exactly do?
I
enjoyed the movie “Coming to America”, or was it “from”, I can’t recall. Eddy
Murphy had a line about sowing “royal oats” and I do not think Zamunda is a farfetched
example of what royalty can offer. I may not be afforded the luxury of dreaming
the improbable but neither am I programmed to worry to no end.
Is it true Mr. President that you
fear Besigye’s eyes? That if they were less utilized you would allow him to succeed
you without worrying if he visited you in the dark?
I
was born after 1986, the only time I was eligible to vote, I had one yellow
name glowing in my eyes; thanks to MTN of those days. The MTN that was before
crocodiles and their appetite for MBz and our airtime were invented. And so on
and so forth, what do I really know?
Is it true Mr. President that we
have a Ministry of Sports? I was just wondering why the only team that has
shown cause to win something international has to beg for mineral water when
some people are earning 96M.(Mpozi it was a typo?, aahh anyway I was just
asking!)
For
God and my country!
God
Bless the President, God bless Uganda!!
Yours faithfully,
a humble subject.
$TOH
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