Can I Be Doctor by Proxy?

Author at Sipi falls in Kapchorwa, Uganda

A few weeks ago, I entered an office in Kampala and a people there mistakenly referred to me as doctor. I did not bother correcting her. Even when I was exiting the building she gave me “gooddbye doctor” look which I took with grace.

 

That mistaken identity raised my ego, and since then, I have been trying so hard to become a doctor. I thought about completing the Masters and going for further studies to gain a PHD but that is a tall order and will take me a lot of time.

 

I contemplated becoming a witch-doctor but I think my Catholic faith may not allow.

 

So, after a lot of thinking, I and my team* have resolved that I explore further a possibility of becoming a medical doctor.

 

This brought back memories of my graduate bachelors degree at Islamic University In Uganda. I was admitted in 2012 but didn't graduate until 2017; a whooping five years. My cousin who knew my struggle with tuition sacarstically asked, “Are you doing medicine?”

 

Therefore (in Museveni's voice), after spending all those years at University, I think I can rightfully become a doctor; specialising in herbal medicine and treatment.

 

At least I can treat some diseases like mutobolya. Then there is this other disease; I don't know its English name but we call it “malenge” here in Mbale. These are diseases I can easilly treat without much thought or research.

 

Indeed mutobolya heals when the doctor makes the patient dance around a tree called muurukuru while malenge needs hot malwa. We call it “ipau” in Lugisu!

Why I wish I had Voted For NRM - Satire

 Today, I awoke filled with remorse, indeed repentant. How I wish I had voted for NRM on January 14th, 2021; my life would be far better.

Hon. Robert Kyagulanyi Ssentamu

I stand at the grocery store and watch jealously as NRM supporters buy soap cheaply, at 3,000/ while I am supposed to pay 7,000 for the same soap. I decide to buy a piece, they buy a bar.

How I regret supporting Hon Kyagulanyi Ssentamu Robert. Last week, I walked into a government Health Centre for medical attention. lo, the doctor tells me that they don't have any medicine for us. All NRM supporters nowadays just cruise past us, as they head to outside countries for malaria treatment.

On Thursday, the 14th of January is when my fate was sealed. As I imbibe myself into loans and go around fundraising to pay my tuition, all NRM supporters who wish to study are grabbing themselves scholarships to universities of their choice. I wish I had voted for the old man.

Currently, all the NRM supporters and their relatives are scooping juicy jobs in government; permanent and pensionable, all without paying a bribe. I doubt whether there is any jobless NRM supporter. Lucky them.

When I walk on our narrow roads, when I move in PSVs driven by unqualified persons, I know that anytime, I can be a victim of a road accident. In Uganda, accidents kill at least 10 opposition supporters every day as our NRM colleagues cruise in serviced and well-maintained SUVs on wider roads. It was indeed a mistake not to belong to NRM.

Honestly, how could I, having spent 20 years in school, sitting in more than 6 schools of economics support and vote for Bobi who could not articulate fiscal policy? Right now, while NRM supporters, whose leader doesn't even need to tell us what fiscal policy he applies, are enjoying life tax-free, we are paying exorbitant taxes; including taxes on tax.

Engule which we were promised has turned into a Crown of thorns like one worn by Jesus at Golgotha. 

Please NRM brothers and sisters, we know that you're in “the thing”. But let politics not separate us, share whatever you're enjoying that side.

Indeed, if you so want, I can denounce Bobi so that just like you, I sail through life accessing cheap goods, and services, getting uncountable scholarships and going abroad for treatment. 

Just yesterday we stopped at a Petrol Station and saw NRM supporters paying 2k for a liter of petrol for which we paid 5,230. Can't I request Mzei to remove my vote from Bobi and add it to his?

Even the current scourge of armyworms is only attacking opposition supporters’ gardens, but we are all Ugandans!

Was that Waragi Sanctified

In an upscale Hotel, I rushed to the loos and without stopping to read the labels entered. As I wielded my energy to open the fly, behold a lady came out of one of the toilets.

Mumbling apologies, I dashed out and pushed open the next door, only to be met with sharp eyes of ladies who were carelessly minding their very important business, probably not expecting intrusion, especially from the opposite sex.

"This hotel's washrooms are all meant Ladies?" I wondered within me

Kumbe the first Lady had used the Gents

Always read the labels!

In my village of Musese, even when I was of tender age still vividly remember us having a beloved priest called Coning.

You know this, our Catholic Church has been so tolerant that it would entertain all people; including drunkards before they could rescind into their lucidity interval. Who are we to judge? It was not strange that a man or two would come to church and if Mass delayed he passed by Nabalayo's mini brewery or Wakoko's joint in Shisatsa then join Mass later.

On this particular Christmas, Coning had preached, prayed and then,

"By this Holy water and by your Precious Blood, wash away all my sins O Lord".

The good reverend Father started sprinkling us with the "Holy Water".

When the sanctification began, there was a stir in the congregation caused by mumblings and a sharp smell of crude waragi.

The Catechist requested the person who has been drinking to move out and 7 of them left the congregation.

Father Coning also reacting, put the bottle of the "Holy Water" to his nose, quietly replaced the lid, went back to the altar, picked another bottle and restarted the sanctification.

Todate, even in death, Rev Father Coning of the Tororo Archdiocese, Nyondo Parish remains our most favorite Parent in Christ.

"By this Holy water and by your Precious Blood, wash away all my sins O Lord".

Was that Waragi sanctified?

3 Beds, One Night!

An aerial view captured from the balcony of my residence at Luweero Diocese

Whenever I travel up country for work, I always face a difficulty finding affordable but hygienic and 'decent' accommodation facilities. It always seems like those two cannot relate, they repulse each other.

Most affordable Guest Houses/Hotels turn out to be "brothels" and this normally elicits fears of contracting disease or the discomfort of the sounds of night pleasures from other guests.

This was so until I realised that some upcountry towns have Guest Houses owned and run by religious institutions. The Church of Uganda runs some of the most affordable and decent facilities. The Catholic Church also has them but theirs are a little bit pricey and in most cases out of reach. I remember going to Kyangwali in Kikube District and they told me that the cheapest I would get at the Catholic run hotel was at Ugx 120,000/-.

But most guest houses run by Church of Uganda are affordable; especially in Luweero and Mbarara.

However, one distinctive feature I find is that most of their rooms have 2 beds. 

In Mbarara, I booked the room and the lady who checked me particularly asked me to use only one bed for the night. Did this lady think that I would sleep in two beds in one night?

It was interesting and I assured her that I have no such plans as sleeping in two beds in one night. But as I pondered over her ludicrous request, I remembered that I have ever slept in three beds in one night but this happened in my own house, my first week in that house.

I was alone in a fully furnished 3 bedroom house and had automatically chosen to sleep in the Master bedroom until I realised that being direct to the evening sunlight (the trees had not grown to give the house sufficient shade), the wall had absorbed much heat and it was quite uncomfortable. I shifted to the adjacent bedroom; but this particular one had a very light window curtain and the security light was lighting directly into the room.

After one hour of trying to catch sleep in vain, I shifted to the other bedroom  and it is where I found comfort. One night, three beds but I will not do that in a Guest House!

Lastly, I urge all of us to plant trees around our houses. It does not only preserve the environment but breathe good air when back home!

In Defence of Ssegirinya

This is how it started: In 2016, your MP bought an ambulance for his constituency; why didn't he legislate so that government provides ambulances to all Ugandans, does the senior MP know his role or he is like Ssegirinya?

In Petals of Blood, one of the best novels written by Ngugi Wa Thiong'o, young Joseph was badly sick, hungry and in dire need of medication or at least, food. When the caretakers went to Reverend Jeremy Brown’s house for help; the man of God offered prayers and without giving the sick child food, reminded the entourage that man does not live by bread alone; but every word which comes from the Lord. I quote, “the Revered holy bastard could only offer us the food of spirit”.

A nurse stands besides Ssegirinya's ambulance.

When I see an online campaign from selfish people criticizing Hon Muhammad Ssegirinya for lending a hand to his people; setting up a health centre, distributing food to those in lockdown, purchasing ambulances and mobilising them through small scale business ventures, I marvel at the sort of resemblance with the above scenario.

In a lockdown, many people, especially in the city are desperate; they are hungry, they need food now, now and Ssegirinya is trying to help out. Our hospitals lack basic equipment and people are dying when they would not have died. Then you find an idle mind thinking that Ssegirinya is doing wrong?

The thinking by elites that legislation will be the solution to help a person who is hungry because their businesses are locked down in effort to curb the spread of Corona should try to evaporate by putting in context that even if we put to use our entire budget, it would still need donations to save the situation. Let us be real; we should not cloud our brains with fear and hate but rather hope and goodwill.

If Ssegirinya is doing a lot that your MP has not done, move to Kawempe North or else, shut up!

A Rallying Call to Patriotism

There is this good feeling you get after doing something so great for your nation.

Author's workstation

I am not talking about sports or those other prized arts; I don't mean launching a war that kills hundreds of thousands before liberation is attained or the pride of raising our flag on foreign soil.

I mean something as simple as putting up a small restaurant and you employ 5 people or a Carpentry shop or any cottage entity that adds a drop of rain in the big desert of unemployment and thus, you contribute taxes for national development.

It is that feeling that we should inculcate in our generation, a call to a patriot, an inward urge to act, knowing that one apiece is what will make our nation a great state; one that we shall be proud to hand over to the next generation.

Talking of handover in regard to work and service; when you see an elderly man hold on to the mantle and say he feels he can serve some more years, then it is either because she/he has failed to deliver during his tenure and thinks that he can make it up or he has done things so bad that he wants to cover up and jeopardise the transition from handover to takeover.

In that case, he will have someone else to bl
ame!

God bless Uganda.

When Uganda attains First World Status

I wrote this post on July 23, 2015 and shared it on my Facebook page; it was triggered by the news that Mubarak had died from Sudan. A da later, we learnt that Mubarak was actually alive and he, himself had made that stunt so as to extract money from his relatives in form of condolence and funeral arrangements.

When Uganda finally attains first world status, I would like to be there but not alone.

Author with colleagues at a pool table

It came as a shock when they told me that Mubarak has died, an
agemate with whom we grew, fought, shared, cared and schooled.

As we grew, academics started sorting out the weak and for Mubarak, I left him classes back. However he completed school before me not with a bachelors but a P.5 report card.

He would soon make a name beyond our small village as a petty thief that grew up to become a master of cons. But Mubarak should not have died because we laughed and cried together; we had big dreams and plans for the future but he stifled his by dedicating all his time to seeking for money at all costs.

Then Sudan came calling and off he went. The war that broke out in 2013 scared many back but Mubarak stayed and he became part of it.

In February 2016, Mubarak nearly landed me in trouble but thankfully my financial background and education in money laundering came to my rescue. Someone else fall into the trap and Mubarak survived as the hero of the story.

As we awaited when he would return to answer for that heinous crime. Duh, the news came that Mubarak has died. Why, when where I don't know but I have a feeling he should not have died before explaining why he always landed other people in trouble, why his parents had to sell off land to save him from prison in Sudan, why he set a trap and landed Barbra in a trap of 2.5 million but most of all why Mubarak stole the only chicken that I received as a gift after circumcision.

You may not rest in peace Mubarak!