The Day Before the Battle

I am feeling funny.

Not down. Kind of anticipative.

What I did today in the morning. You know, talking to that journalist, I have a feeling I have stirred up something momentous. The next part of the Kuchu saga in Uganda.

Don’t worry kuchus. It will not hurt you guys and girls. I am just worried that I may have hurt myself considerably.

There. I have done it. Written down the fear that has been lurking at the back of my mind.

I am not terribly strong. I am no ‘bravo’. I would like to think of myself as a brave person. But I am not brave.
And at the moment I am feeling scared. Scared for my work, scared for what we set out to do on this gay campaign of ours. Scared of the implications for me, and my lover, and the people that are close to me.

I have a maternal uncle who was the definitive male in my teens. A very upright man of the community. Very different from my dad, and I remember it was this uncle who most influenced my higher studies.
He is a very straight arrow. He (in my assessment) would be hard put to acknowledge my different-from-the-norm sexuality. For some reason, I thought of him today. Since the start of the kuchu campaign in Uganda, I have been feeling fearful of meeting him. Don’t know what he would say to me. Don’t know whether we can even talk. Will he bear the stain of a gay nephew holding out his neck on the social guillotine willingly? When I talk about him, my lover reminds me that it is my mum who matters. And she does not reject me, bless her. It will also be a strain to her.

I used to read a lot, a while ago before I got into the poems thing. Fiction. War fiction. Of generals, and battles, and the day before battle.
I am wondering whether I will be able to survive tomorrow. Whether I will be able to look my love in the eye and say that, what I did, I did for us, and that we shall be fine. Like rolling the dice, then watching, the fates out of my hands. How will they settle? What will be the score? Will I win? Will I lose? Will life continue as it was before?

How did I get into this gay activism?

I saw there was no one else to do it. And that relentless logic has led me to this. No, I do not regret the path my life has taken. Just wondering, would I have taken another knowing this was coming to me?

I will survive the day, most likely. It is more like the week will be the decider.

If I win, we (kuchus) shall win, very, very much. A resounding victory.

If I lose, well, it is my life and my lover’s in balance. But it should not get to that. I hope.

I ask for no prayers. I have entered the lion’s den and bearded him. I will take the consequences. For my lover, please pray that we survive the storm.

Very melodramatic. But. Dare I ask for your prayers?

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This has been on my mind all day. Forgot the fact that Lucky Dube died senselessly yesterday. RIP.
And Dumbledore is gay. Sincerely, I have not read the last Harry Potter. But I will recommend this slash fanfiction version of Harry Potter. It is absolutely a bomb. Wish the guy could publish it in paper so that I can hold it in my hands. A series, and good. Very good.

Dumbledore is gay and Lucky Dube is dead. Strange world.

GayUganda.