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!