All We Had Is Now Gone

#Issue 24

Mid last year when I thought that I could by now be walking over the moon, I set out to celebrate 26th March of every year as the most distinguished day in my life. Being one who doesn't value birthdays and other "bullshit" anniversaries that Ugandans are ever scampering to celebrate (even when they know not the origin), I thought that I would break the barrier to at least waste myself for a single day of the 365.

The year moved rather fast and I now find myself on this day. Locked up in my office in Maluku I am not celebrating but trying to put the past behind me and move in the direction not of my calling but preference. Life is too ironical and it is under a few circumstances that we can pride ourselves of being in charge of every aspect of our life. If you don't believe me ask Annet to tell you what Kaweesi thought he would do in 2020 when he would probably quit the police force and seek an elective post in Lwengo. He is nowhere as we speak. Ask Dr Specioza Wandira Kazibwe of what she pictured living with her husband till ripe age, now she is spinster/widow; actually with no title to describe her Marital status, ask Mugisha Muntu what perspective they had in mind while fighting to restore political sanity.

You can come closer and ask Mama Angelina Wapakhabulo if her husband thought there could be a time in Uganda again when a president could rule for more than two terms and beyond the age limit of 75. The examples are very many but we can end with the Tale of Two Persons; Sudhir Ruparelia and Crane Bank Uganda Ltd.

Crane plunged to a loss of Ushs 3.1billion in 2015 from a profit of 50.6 billion just a year ago in 2014. In 2014 Sudhir knew that he had found the niche in pearl of Africa. I doubt whether he had it in mind that he would lose Crane Bank and a number of other businesses just 2 years down the road.

Therefore, my brother, my sister we are not fully in charge of everything because even Gadafi had planned to send a Christmas gift to Best Kemigisha for 2011 but before the fall of that year, he was not a president anymore neither was he on face of this world.

Just like me, I pictured myself at a great social height on this day; I have no doubt that we could have attended the ongoing IAAF World Cross Country that is taking place in Kampala and would have been among those people cheering Jacob Kiplimo as he raised our flag having won gold but things truly fall apart. But all in all we have to be thankful to the Almighty Allah for granting us the mercy to live and witness our lives turned upside down for good or for bad. We should be thankful to nature for not being as selfish as people to let us coexist in spite of our greedy ambition to reap more than we always sow

I need not complain for what happened because it happened and I will never unmake it. Instead my conscience tells me that I can make up for the badness and set it aside by leaping higher than before. I also have no doubt that I will, but the process of overcoming a disappointment needs time, patience and sustained effort. Not that I don't have these but it is because the pain keeps coming back and I remember the time I wasted. Not that I don't put in much effort but because I have to endure the pain of paying double the price for the same measure.

Have you ever questioned the existence of God? I have done so a hundred times. Have you ever wondered whether other people also sin like you do? I have always wondered what colossal, crude unforgivable sin I have committed to pass through the Crucible of life. More so, you have to go through this while your neighbors who you see commit more deadly sins sail through unhurt, unchallenged and happily.

When life's hardships come your way, you start recalling all the sins you have committed but then look at your immediate neighbor and you recall that she is worse. You think of the one night-stand with a stranger but in the same fold you recall that your buddy who was recently introduced by his 12^th girlfriend had at one time raped and has been a committed participant in orgies and group sex. There is a time I thought that my troubles were caused by the illicit behavior of high school when I tested drugs, cigarettes and waragi with Kimera Cyrus my High School buddy but then I remembered that Kasirye Gwanga looks not to be badly off and yet he is a committed drunkard. Then I asked why me Lord?

These struggles of life are real and true but one thing I realized is that they teach you about life; they are clear indicators that happiness is not acquired through short cuts, that people only reap what they sowed and not vice versa. You can never sow what you reaped.

Yes, I have written this so many times and used it to self-console and brush aside my life frustrations but this particular one keeps coming back, it haunts me every minute of life. I cannot actually believe that hour which turned into hours then days. Days turned into a week and weeks into a month. Now it's months and I am still counting. By the way did I ask why me Lord? Surely, why me Lord?

There is nothing as painful as to watch what is yours being taken from you, you raise your hand trying to grab it back but the waves of life seem too determined and because you have tired you let go. Then like a leaf on a big ocean your fortune is carried away, you see it shrinking in size till it goes out of sight and you realize you have lost it. We can also compare it to a plane which carries away your friend and takes him while you're watching knowing that he will never return. I could have also referred to that moment when you lay a friend, neighbor, colleague or relative into that four corner shaped external house but that would be too harsh.

But to close it all I can relate it to when a person falls into a river, you watch while the river swallows him. Knowing that he is going you make an alarm to rally for help and no one turns up. At first you can see his waist then waves sweep him but at least you can see still his head. Lo the waters are unforgiving and soon his head sinks but you can locate him by the hand. Then damn he sinks for good. That is the pain I went through when I lost my treasure. When a person drowns, he or she returns to the shores as a corpse. Just like a corpse, my Treasure returned as a shell of its past self and I have to live with it.

As i write this, I cannot hold back the tears of losing my best; they say time heals wounds but I have seen wounds drive time in my life. No matter the number of times I have tried to move on, the ghosts of Good Friday of 2016 keep haunting me!