The Fight in the War

This war has existed since the time Adam experienced his first orgasm in Eden. We have been at war. Some many comrades have fallen either by the sword, Russian bullets or Chinese counterfeit goods. Life has always been contraband. Democracy is like a bootleg product consumed in trepidation and concealment. Many have been flogged, maimed or massacred for openly consuming democracy. Freedom of speech is considered as sedition. As the war rages on, many sleep or feign ignorance to what’s going on. Like cattle in a stampede, many men run wildly and fight each other without reason or justification. I went for a field trip the other day and we came across a woman whose husband and two sons were slain by his kinsmen following a land dispute and I thought that was quite a despicable act until I watched on the evening TV news that another woman in Mutukula murdered the husband so she could remain with a sum of money a little less than a million shillings. My stomach somersaulted. All these horrendous acts of violence against our own flesh and blood for a handful of passing worldly possessions was contemptible. As I thought about it more deeply, I imagined all those souls starving to death in Somalia and Ethiopia and remembered that even here in Kampala, street children starve to death. I thought that only in Burundi do opposition politicians get killed in cold blood until I remembered all those lost souls that fell by the hands of thugs, rapists and some stray soldiers of the cross and the peace sign. I came face to face with the burden of pain and inhuman acts of violence that we humans have over the years inflicted on fellow humans and I walked away. The weight of that burden was too much for me to stomach. My dog Gucci gingerly walked to where I was seated. He wagged his tail as he walked. He rubbed his face on my leg and the look in his eyes took me on a journey thousands of miles across the globe to China where you neighbor stole your dog and cooked him for lunch and offered you a meal. “Lets walk away Gucci”, I said to him as I attached a leash to his collar and walked towards MBI. There is a army rising. A strong army of men and women who have given up the struggle to live and die silently. An army of men and women who have been through the worst and have had enough. This army rises by the day. Dark clouds loom low. Evil days approach and I shudder at the carnage that our kind will endure before this era passes. I pray that the lord will salvage just enough of our kind to rebuild, procreate and refill the earth after we foolish humans almost wipe ourselves off the face of the earth. Is there more folly on earth than Riek Machar fighting to overthrow Salva Kiir Mayardit with thousands of people dying as collateral? Do I sound so politically motivated? No, I don’t. Gucci doesn’t think so too. We have trouble on our hands. We can feel it, we can see it. We hear it groan and rumble as it approaches and we choose to just wait and watch. “This is what it means to live in a doomed generation”, I tell my dog Gucci. He squirms and yawns-showing disinterest in my pessimistic insinuations but his mood tells me he understands and feels better he hasn’t seared any progeny to this day. I love my Daughter Tisha and my Fiancée Diana and I would give my life for them to stay alive and out of trouble. My predicament is we’re all born Ugandan-Gucci is a German Sheppard by breed but he’s more Ugandan than Elly Wamala or Afrigo band. I love the dusty, pot-holed streets of this city, I miss the commotion in Wandegeya each time I travel away. I feel the plight of the officers who are scarified to save ministers and premiers…My country is action packed! But am still a proud citizen and I pay my taxes religiously. I don’t question the taxes levied on me. I abide by the laws and I try to ignore many things. I have made a considerable contribution to the welfare of this country. What I wish for my baby is what I wish for all other Ugandan babies-Life, healthcare, good education and a bright future. Are we still the pearl of Africa or we have switched places with the horn of Africa? Ezekiel in Chapter 37:1-14 told of the dry bones….Uganda, bow your heads, Lets pray, “God save Uganda” Amen!