You must understand that life in Uganda doesn’t necessarily
depend on Andrew Mwenda’s opinion, or does it? If you are a fisherman, your
role is to cast hooks and throw spears into the lake. Anything with bait is in fact
better. In case you come back empty handed, no one can blame you. The problem
is definitely the lake’s and the fish that didn’t bite.
“I appointed you, I have been your employer for forty
years; I made you young man”
“No you did not. I am a professional and I have been loyal
all these years doing all your not so tidy laundry”
“Is that because you are clean, or have you been through
some deep sea ablution of late. So what are we up about anyway?”
“I think it is time up, you better hand over peacefully or
we will make you”
“Who is this we, and when did you get the courage to talk
to me like that?”
“I speak for so many that you have no idea about, and you
forget that I have been in charge of many rosters from the grassroots to this
very office”
“I do not know which woman in confusing you, or what it is
you drank but you are sure not in your right mind. Go and sleep over it, we
will resume this conversation when your mind is clearer in the morning”
“That is not necessary because, I am actually here to hand
in my resignation”, he slapped a folder on the table.
“In that case, it won’t be necessary, you are fired with
immediate effect. Do not forget that I am a bulldozer. I crush whatever stands
in my way. I have you where I want you and you will soon find out who the boss
is”
Beyond the river lies a world unknown. If you have never
crossed the land you might be tempted to think you discovered it when you
eventually do. Only to find that there are citizens complete with red slippers
to wade off the discomfort. Times to make apologies and times to stick to a
game pan and hope it works out, which will it be?
Are you wiser now, or were they right after all? Have they
run out of their ammunition or it is time for them to start eating from their
sweat. Alas you, pretty boy from Kololo, have fallen from up, up higher than
humpty high. Dumped in the rubble of commonplace you may not realize that we
eat the rolex that shines on your hand. We struggle when the dollar bites but
you might never know.
We are back to the grind, and the millet keeps rolling
under the stone. Between the rock and hard place rock; are you going to make it
to Mbale? Did you think you would anyway or it was one of those “I will tell
you when I will tell you...” Who stands to lose?
I wanna know what is exactly going on behind that shilling
promiscuity but guess what, the front page does not tell because big boys do
not agree. At what point do we believe this is not personal? How about you join
the boys who’ve trodden the Kiira police cells so long they carry mosquito
nets?
#When a nation is a cattle pen…
$TOH
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