A Dream That is

I used to only dream on those nights after eating cassava. But yesterday, no cassava but I had a dream, it is not like the Martin Luther dream, it was a horrible dream. And as a good Catholic, when I awoke, I held onto my rosary, I made a petition to God, I implored the Virgin Mary and my Saint Denis to intercede, to pray for us. It was a very bad dream that I never wish to see happen. When I got out of bed, I thought that I would share it with “my people”. I thought that all the people should know that what lies ahead may not be the best, at least in dreams

THE DREAM

Picture of a man killed by Kenyan Security Forces (internet)

In this dream, we were traveling on a ragged bus from Kampala and upon reaching Magodes Trading Centre, the driver stopped and informed us as we can ease ourselves before continuing.

Just like the other passengers, I also looked for a tree trunk. But, as I emptied my bladder, I beheld a man being led by 5 elderly fellows. Since all others were just looking, I also just looked and after the call went back to the bus.

As we settled to set off, I realised that all the passengers were mum with their heads bent. The woman seated adjacent was sobbing but suppresively. I equally bowed my head and asked my co-passenger to know what happened to the man who was seated with the woman adjacent.

“The man is Bwire Francis, he has been hacked by people who took him off the bus while we were out. They were accusing him of belonging to a group of politicians, which group they don’t like.

End!

AFTERMATH

The dream shook me to the marrow because there are so many times when I have thought that maybe one day I will be picked in the same way; from the bus, private car or office, I will be picked from the streets, bodaboda or home. Maybe I will be picked from a hotel room, dinning or from a bar. The dream was terrifying but I prayed that if am to be picked one day, they better not humiliate but kill me wholesomely. I don't mind dying and no one remembers, but they should not pluck out my heels or remove my eye, they should not tie weight to my testicles or electrocute me.

To you the authors of death, “When i annoy you and you feel like you can't endure me anymore, take me to a bush, tie me to a tree and fire the bullets, let me know when I am going to die so that I can say my last prayer but don't torture and leave me disabled, just hit my head hard with a club so that in an instant I will be no more. Don't use a lethal injection, keep your midozalum, you probably don't want to watch me lurch and gasp for air, with my open eyes watching you, it will be bad for me to writhe and gnash my teeth infront of you My captors, kill me so quick and dump my body in the great Nile so that at least even if I did not go there in my lifetime, my blood can reach the Mediterranean sea, and the crocodiles can have a feast that night.”

I prayed, not that I am your everyday superstitious person but as a Christian, I prayed that this dream never comes to pass. Then a voice from above told me that it is already happening but the victims are still too meek to retaliate or the survivors are too busy to mind!

They don’t even know the next victim!

That is Wrong With Our Country!

Internet photo (Maybe subject to copyright)

Sometimes I seriously doubt whether I can make a good politician. My perception of politicians in Ugandan context is a group of people who pull off as very important people when in real sense they are not. I am still not convinced that the world cannot exist without politicians. Because honestly, an accountant keeps books, a doctor treats people, an administrator organises faculties, a teacher educates a nation, a pilot, captain or driver ferries people and goods, a judge and lawyers deliver justice and a police officer keeps law and order (depending on country). But what does a politician do?

When discussing patriotism I don't even think that many politicians especially in Uganda should lay a claim. In many cases they are the most unproductive and ironically they are unnecessarily many and highly paid members of our society. Everywhere you look there is a politician that we could do without but they have strategically placed themselves to assert relevance.

That is why in build up to Uganda's football match against Senegal in the round of 16 at AFCON 2019 when one MP criticized the players and questioned their patriotism it got me laughing so hard that I missed the match, which match we were supposed to lose.

A member of parliament earns over $100,000 a year, and they are unnecessarily over 400 in number. In comparison Uganda 30 Cranes players earn allowances sometimes once in two years and we have to make them beg for it. And when it gets to She-Cranes, it is even “worser” than bad.

Then a member of parliament questions a sportsman's patriotism? Of course if there was a machine that measures patriotism, politicians’ measure would always be below average or in negative. Don’t you see these guys who keep deposing dictatorships and they then turn out to be worse? Don’t you know these guys who in their 20^th year at the helm claimed that Obote had overstayed?

But anyway, in a nation where we have turned our priorities upside down, I think this is not going away soon. It is the explanation as to why we keep suffocating ourselves with political positions and discard professionals to the bottom end of the payrol, we pay locally trained doctors peanuts, causing them to look for places where their services are appreciated. Then as a solution we hire Spanish speaking doctors from Cuba to address the shortage and give these Cubans a translator on top of amenities that we denied our own. You may think that our politicians have a grudge with Ugandan born professionals that to increase a teacher’s salary to cover basics, they rather hire Kenyans and pay them double what the Ugandan teachers are requesting for.

Do we need some brain transplants or the results of our mess will teach next generations lessons so big that they will avoid the mistakes of their forefathers?

Of course, our generation is not likely to contribute much to Uganda seeing that we who were born 36 years ago are soon reaching menopause while still believing that Uganda is too difficult to be managed by ourselves or one of our own. And therefore we need to maintain people from the other generation to the extent that even when we need change, we must replace an old turk with a dotard.

I sign out!

When Laws Go On Holiday

By Wabuyi Denis 

Yesterday, we were stopped by a traffic officer for some reason; she knew best. But after greeting, she waved us on without asking any questions. Maybe she was bored and wanted someone to talk to. Indeed if I was a traffic officer and felt bored, I would stop every vehicle, greet all the occupants, one at a time then wave them off. But the less than 30 seconds interaction with the officer brought back memories of my first encounter with law enforcement. 

Matatu on a road in Kampala (Photo by Daily Monitor)

One time; those days when I was studying at Uganda College of Commerce (UCC) in Tororo, I witnessed something comic which keeps coming to mind whenever I see a traffic Police officer. Being a law abiding citizen, it was also my first ever encounter with law enforcers.

I had boarded one of those ragged matatus which plow the Mbale - Tororo road which road was also ragged. As we approached a place referred to as Mailo-aboro in Japadhola, a traffic officer waved down the matatu. From his (driver) reaction, I sensed that something was terribly wrong; either with our driver who was also ragged or the ragged vehicle which was ferrying us, the ragged executive officers.

We later on learnt that our ragged driver was actually not a driver but a conductor who was sitting in for his boss and he did not possess a driving license.

The traffic officer could not take our ragged conductor cum driver’s defense to his crime.

The excuse that the ragged guy gave was: "My boss (in reference to the officer), today is a Sunday. I did not therefore expect you (traffic Police) to be working. I have always been driving on Sundays without a license and have never been stopped"

So, our driver was perplexed to find out that the laws had not gone on holiday, as they always do.

In the confusion which ensued, I misplaced my kaveera of roasted ground nuts. Therefore, my first encounter with law enforcement deprived me of the groundnuts which were to accompany my breakfast for 30 days.

That is why I fear being stopped by traffic officers.

The Story of Tyuwu-tyuwu and Diluted Milk

Sunday, June 14, 2020

By WABUYI DENIS

These small, black frogs which seamlessly swim in village water streams? I bet no one knows because you all look to be bred in town on tap water. But that is not a big deal, just try to picture organisms swimming in not so clean water.

Not many years ago, there lived in our village, a man who was very intelligent, and I am told he is still alive. But I cannot attest to his being intelligent any more since I last spoke to him 20 years ago; before I could even turn into a teenager. In respect of privacy, we shall call this man Tyuwu-tyuwu; your failure to pronounce it should be blamed on your primary school teacher not me.

Internet Picture, may be subject to copyright

Tyuwu-tyuwu was a proprietor of a very big dairy project of one malnourished cow and its calf. Well, the allusion to bigness of the dairy is not in accordance with the number of cows but the many customers who trekked to his small house to buy milk. It is said that you never went to his home to buy milk and returned without.

The customers were also attracted by his insistence on selling his milk at half the price of other milk producers. Indeed, Kharende who had 2 Fresians was said to be selling less milk than Tyuwu.

But what we failed to understand was the magic which made Tyuwu's malnourished cow produce more than 10 cups of milk in a day. He insisted that his cow is always fat in the night but after milking is when it looks malnourished during the day. Some people said that he diluted his milk with water and the ratio depended on the demand. If 4 people showed up to buy milk and what was left was one cup, he would excuse himself through the backdoor, rush to the water stream, get water, add to the milk to make 4 so that none of his customers would return home without milk.

One day, one of those "big days", when the town folk returned to the village, one returnee insisted that Tyuwu-tyuwu diluted his milk with water. As evidence, he showed the several "woyakos" which were swimming in the milk to which all people beheld and we wondered how Tyuwu is going to get out of this panorama.

Internet photo(Maybe subject to Copyright)

A sitting of the Local Council (LC) was called the next day after Tyuwu-tyuwu refused to refund the returnee. Now, it was Tyuwu-tyuwu's belief that you should never return money that has been given to you for any reason or other.
The sitting reflected its importance, the returnee had paid the court fees and the full LC Committee was summoned to deliver justice. A lot of discussions, arguments and counter arguments ensued until the returnee produced evidence of the milk with the tadpoles still swimming in as evidence that the milk was diluted by Tyuwu-tyuwu.

Tyuwu-tyuwu conceded to the presence of the small organisms and then, "I am surprised that these people go to school when they are wise and return when stupid. Who of you has never seen woyako in my milk? Put up your hand if you have never seen these tadpoles in the milk?"

He looked around without expectation of dissent. Tyuwu had captivated his audience the way he wanted by involving them. "You see, no one. Even the chairman himself. We know very well that my cow drinks from the stream just behind my house. And it is not unthinkable that many a time when drinking water, the cow partakes in the tadpoles too. Where do you think the tadpoles go?"

Before anyone could answer, he continued with his oratory. "These woyakos when they enter the body, they come out through 2 outlets; the cow urine or the milk."

Everyone in that meeting seemed to nod in agreement apart from the complainant. In anger, the returnee picked the milk and splashed all of it on Tyuwu-tyuwu with some spatters staining the chairman. The returnee was made to pay for damages and the case was closed in Tyuwu's favour.

This story came to mind when I was thinking about so many decisions which are made in Uganda’s parliament against the will of the people!

This post also appears on the link below:
https://nangalama.blogspot.com/2020/06/uganda-how-do-you-call-woyako-in-english.html

Just Random Thoughts about Life

Last year was a funny one. Watuulo came to me selling  hen at 40,000; a hen for God's sake! I asked why and how he comprehends me paying 4 times more than the usual price. He told me of all his needs. He needed 30,000 to pay for his daughter's school dues and also remain with "some ka-money in the pocket" as a man.
Apparently, he was pricing his hen according to his needs.

Kawuuzi, a "former OB" got a girlfriend in 2017. She immediately stopped eating at home, needed a smartphone, and a lot of nice things.

A rock at Nyero in Kumi: It is said that if one is barren, they come to this rock,
make love and they will surely conceive by supernatural powers

Walakira, a graduate whose current occupation is being Anyango's boyfriend convinced Anyango to sell off her father's land so that they can acquire a better and bigger piece of land in Zirobwe (his home area), build a house and do farming. They sold the land in Bugembe, Jinja and got the money. Soon after the money landed into his hands and before he could acquire the land in Zirobwe, Walakira's generosity meter rose to 120 and before 2019 could come to end, he had gotten an assistant for Anyango; a helper who conceived before Anyango could!

Life is funny in its perspective but the truth is that I never got to understand the Primary School debate of "Village life is better than town life" until recently when I stumbled on a friend's woes in his struggles to win a place in the "League of Men". He ended his story with a very subjective hypothesis which certainly is informed by his miscalculations: "If you gave 200,000 to a village girl she will buy 2 goats and use the balance for her hair and clothes. Give it to a town girl and she will just frown at you.  After all, 200,000 cannot even pay rent. She will slice it into pieces and rush to donate the 200,000 to KFC, Shell Petrol Station and a Chinese bag maker."

What a sadist my friend is!