Frankly, the scenes at Kasubi make me apprehensive.
All my instincts say the Kabaka, the King is a mortal human being. But, the fervour of his subjects denies me that conclusion. It is a little bit frightening.
The crowd was mammoth on Friday. The security forces from the central government were not in attendance. I think the fact that the President had been abused, in public and the anti-government fervour was very much in evidence convinced the government to draw back and let the Kingdom loyalists have their day.
And, they did.
The consequences were not pretty.
Crowd control was not one of the things that the Kingdom could do, or planned to do. 2 dead, and many injured. In a stampede to see the Kabaka, a king who in the crowds estimate is as powerful as any medieval potent e.
Here is another pictorial. All from the Monitor website.
Waiting crowd. In truth, mammoth. And, was it just 'thousands'?
Kabaka's convoy mobbed.
Paying homage. Religious Leaders
Beginning of the stampede. Crowd breaks down the barriers.
A day for the opposition. Otunnu was stoned on Wednesday. But, Friday, he was a darling.
The King, and the Queen.
Homage, in another way.
Adulation. On their knees. Hands up, reaching out.
Like in Biblical times, some in the trees.
The Kabaka doesnt speak much. Not traditionaly. But this time there was another constraint. The crowd was surging to see him. Crowd control was non existent. Thank the gods there was no police, because what happened with the President, shooting into the crowd, that would have happened again, I have no doubt.
But, it happened. Stampede. And, at least 2 died.
I dont trust what the New Vision reports. Disinformation in many cases. But, I do think the Daily Monitor is objective. Here is the story.
I cant seem to escape them. Seems as if my country is going down a road that we have been before. One of death and despair and destruction. Yet just a few years ago we seemed to be full of hope.
First, the International Criminal Court wants to indite Omar Bashir, President of Sudan. It has come as a surprise to Africa, and to the Arab world.
Yet, with Darfur an ugly sore, hemorrhaging onto the world’s conscious, what surprise is it? How long, and how far will the world go to chase this down is doubtful. Because it seems as if Africa, official Africa is reacting with outrage.
We are hearing the old, disqualified arguments. In self interest, our leaders are reacting as if it is a sore affront to the dignity of Africa. Imperialism! Colonialism! They are crying. And poor people, our people are reacting as if this is what it is.
Yet I am thinking of 2 million people displaced. 200,000 killed. And still Darfur is a sore. A purulent, ugly sore on the conscious of the world. And we in Africa are not even conscious of it?
Black Africa. The self interest of the leaders. One would expect Negro Africa to stand up and erupt in violence. After all, it is negroes who are experiencing this genocide. But, official Africa is out, protecting Bashir, from ‘colonial imperialism of the west.’
Bullshit.
And my Arab brothers. They are also reacting with injured dignity. Horror of horrors. One of their own has been indited, accused of genocide.
Shame brothers. You are as guilty as he is. Bashir. And you do no help following the path of our traitorous leaders. For indeed they are betraying Africa. They are betraying Africans, in the interest of their stomachs, and gain, and power.
Just like Zimbabwe. Nothing was as shameful as Mugabe being accepted by the leaders of Africa. That stain on our conscious is going to be long in removing. The hypocrisy of it all. They cannot do wrong, because they are the leaders.
Sad. Sad indeed.
In Uganda, a curious thing is occurring.
The president wanted a life presidency. Apparently, he got it. Well, let us say the population voted for him to do that. We are children indeed. So little knowledge, and those who have more of it, so ready to deliberately lead us down the path of death and despair.
But, he seems to have been incensed by their being opposition, any opposition, to him.
So, opposition leaders are arrested. Well, it happens all over Africa. And we shrug it off. Right now, to be an opposition leader in Uganda is almost treason. And the courts which protect them are also ‘treasonous’. The will of the president seems to be paramount. Indeed this article may be treasonous! Ha, how the first 26 Comrades are corrupted. 27th Comrade, isn’t the First comrade turning in his grave? Or was he just a figure head? (By the way, I miss your crazy arguments. Very suprising!)
It would have gone on like that, indefinitely. But now something else started happening.
In Uganda, in the central is the Baganda tribe. Supposedly the largest in the country. And with a reputation of being (I know I am stepping on some political incorrectness), a reputation of being proud, self serving, thinking of themselves above the other tribes.
Historical problems there. Something which we do not talk about. Again, like sex. We are very, very good at burying our collective head in the sand of time. We as in Ugandans.
Now, at first it was the Kabaka, king of Buganda against the President. Seemed like a clash of egos. The Baganda are very ‘land’ minded. Land to them is wealth. And the President, rightly or wrongly, thinks that one of the biggest drawback to economic development is land ownership. So, the president wants to make it easier to buy and sell land. At least that is what I think he thinks. But the Baganda don’t want it. And, the Kabaka, the ‘Sabataka’ or owner of all land in Buganda, has broken with the government.
It is a clash of egos. A tragedy of un-understanding.
The president is from a cattle keeping ethnic group. To them cattle is wealth. Land is land, you use it to roam the cattle on. Cattle is the wealth that means everything. I think that he personally has no understanding at how important the land is to the pesky Baganda. And, he does not want to see their point of view. He is incensed at the ‘opposition’ from the Baganda. They has been a cold war between the Central government and Buganda government for some years now. No talking. No dialogue, and everything getting more heated and more heated. Suddenly, it is all out in the open now.
Two days ago, two ministers in the government of Buganda were arrested. The charges include ‘terrorism’ of all things. See here, and here.
Storm in a teacup?
Not realy. All of a sudden, people are talking about ‘Buganda Nationalism’. The scepter of our differences is being pulled to the fore, slowly, inexorably. The president seems to want to play it as the Baganda against the rest of Ugandans. But, he is tearing apart my crazy, ethnic mad nation. Nothing, absolutely nothing makes us as crazy as our ethnic identities. Before it was a north south divide. It has not been closed in his 26 years or so of presidency. But I am truly worried about what the current problems mean. Because, logical thought is thrust aside when the issues of our ethnic differences are used as the basis of thought.
For a long time, we the new generation did not think of ourselves as our ethnic groups. But now, it is occurring.
Again.
Same old, same old. Sad thoughts indeed.
Think of the 100 year wars in Europe. Or Asia as the Mongols swept through. A time of sadness and crazy madness. Indeed Africa, my beautiful Africa is crazy and mad. Home of political incorrectness.
And I bet Orombi’s summon will be about the evils of ‘homosexuality’! Ah.
That was my Sunday sermon. Sad, beautiful Africa. No wonder very few do see your strength and beauty. And the fact that there is nothing as beautiful as you.
Well, did I say you are home to me? And I do love your dirty undergarments. They stink to heaven, but they are you, aren’t they? Of course I am biased, arent I? But I would rather point out that they do stink, and are not perfume. Not ready to be another Romanesque!
I woke up, with the distinct feeling that it was not time to get out of bed.
The sun was up, my valley in the shadows of the hills surrounding it, but cool and wrapped in morning sun on the leaves.
Beauty. It is a perception, in the eye of the beholder.
My spirits have soared with the promise of a day of sun.
We live in a global village. Yesterday, I decided to take a walk round my valley. Shocked me to realise that it has been years since I explored it. Typical urbanite. I wake up and work, go to work, or play, or go out- without knowing what is happening in my neighbourhood. Its too close for me to see. Like a huge bolder perched on my nose.
I walked the roads. Thick red dust, each footfall followed by a small dust-storm. Sun was brilliant hot. Yet not uncomfortable. Kampala’s equable weather.
I took the paths I had not taken since I was a child, and found that I have been living blind. The places where we used to hunt for mangoes, the open spaces where we used to play hide and seek- (not true, where we used to go digging), they are gone. There are houses everywhere. Even where I did not expect them to be.
The city has sprawled out, eating into the trees, which are now the orphans. I think I am just lucky to still live in the garden of trees. Or maybe I am not. Even where the houses are piled up together on the hillsides, the trees are still hanging on.
Kampala is bulging at the seems. Wrong, she bulged and spilled over in tangible waves of humanity.
The people are poor. But the children still play and laugh, unrestrained. There is evidence of cottage industries at every road junction.
My wanderings led me home- where I grew up. Maama was not around, but the old place was as usual. And I remembered to pack my bag full of avocado fresh from the tree. My lover loves it.
Our world is a global village- had not realised how crowded it had become.
Of the papers, the red rug seems convinced that the end of the world is near. Means there is no juicy scandal. The EastAfrican is a weekly, so it presents history instead of news. How Kikwete of Tanzania managed to breakthrough the deadlock in Kenya. I dislike political spin. Museveni stepped on his toes congratulating Kibaki, and then intimated he acted as a peace broker. No, what I dislike is someone trying to insult my intelligence with political spin.
Speaking of politics, Hillary is throwing the kitchen sink at Obama. I am glad to know that stupidity is not the reserve of our African leaders. So, she is tearing the party apart, in the name of winning. She is a throwback to our politicians. If it had been in Uganda, Obama would be in prison. Imagine, an upstart against a former First Lady!
The land wars are ongoing. The Kabaka vs the President. I really love logic. It seems to sort through stupidity very quickly. But logic is a perception. So, it is a matter of fact that what I think is logical to me, the Kabaka and President may think it is stupidity.
Oh well, life continues.
I can rail at all that is wrong with my world, and forget the things that are right with it.
My thanks to all of you who have commented on the matter of faith and the gay Ugandan. Truth to say, I was not aware that I was so worried. Concerned.
Maybe I should have trusted my lover more- but again, is there any logic in religion?
He could not sleep last night. Worried about a business deal. I held him in my hands, just happy that I was with him.
Life is quirky, not easy. I was worried about the religion thing, because it strikes at the heart of our relationship. (Yeah, had a lover who told me that it was a sin to make love. I felt like I was a piece of dung at that moment. Degraded. Why should my love be a sin?) My lover was not so worried. He is more concerned about the more practical things of bread and butter and food on the table.
It is a beautiful, brilliant hot day out, and I am grateful for that.
The simple answer is prejudice can blind. Prejudice can and will blind a person to thinking.
Take Dr Watson. A guy so brilliant that when much younger, he helped unravel the mysteries of DNA. Went ahead to win the Nobel Prize. A living legend in his own lifetime.
Yet a few weeks ago, this icon of human thought came out with his ideas on why Africa will err, never develop. Negroes are inferior; something which the politically correct fail to take into account. The world was horrified, and he lost most of his credibility because of it.
At the moment, racism is politically incorrect.
The same guy had once stated that, if a gay gene was found to be present, a mother would be right to screen her unborn child and abort the baby if it was going to be a homosexual.
What a statement. At the particular time that Dr Watson said this, it was not really politically correct form. He was derided, in some quarters. But it did not diminish his stature. Not like this time when he showed his touch of political incorrectness.
Prejudice has been a heavy shade to my thinking. Oh yes, I imbibed prejudice with my mother’s milk. So does everyone. The world we grow up in always has its own set of prejudices. And we do not escape them.
I did not. And though I think I have worked a lot of them out, I still harbour some glaring logs in my eyes.
What set me on this thought track was an opinion piece in the Monitor Newspaper today. The opinion is written by Owekitiibwa (Honourable) Joash Mayanja Nkangi.
He is a very well respected and elderly politician in Uganda. And he has been talking about homosexuality, and how bad it is.
Mayanja Nkanji. His pedigree is impressive. I think not too long ago, he was cited as one of the most brilliant Ugandans. I know that he was the Kabaka’s Katikiro (Prime Minister) during the 1966 crisis, when the Kabaka was deposed and exiled. He only handed over his instruments of office recently, when the Buganda kingdom was reinstated. After 1986, when the current president took over, he is one of the opposition politicians whose power base was co-opted, after he was ‘duped’ into working with his political opponents. He held various ministerial portfolios, including Minister of Justice and Constitutional affairs.
A grandfather, he still combs his full head of hair in a 1960s type hair style with a ‘road’ parting the grey on one side. That is what I remember most striking about him! Apart from his grandfatherly look, and reputation to brilliancy.
He believes that the Government should tighten the screws on gays and lesbians in the country. It should not dare loosen them.
I was reminded of myself. Here is a man who cannot get past some of his prejudices. And he uses the gifts he has to explain to the world why these prejudices are correct.
Gays and lesbians in Uganda are deeply stigmatised. They cannot talk in public. They cannot have an HIV prevention programme. They are punished for speaking out, other Ugandans believing that they shame them so much they should just hide their shameful beings out of sight, mind and thought. This is what is politically correct in Uganda at the moment, and an elder statesman has waded into the fight. There are Ugandans who deserve rights to be affirmed as human beings. That does not include homosexuals.
It reminds me of a quip I saw about the People’s Space in the Commonwealth Head of Governments meeting recently held in Uganda. The people’s space was for all people to come out and talk about their grievances. All people.
Guess what? I should ask Mayanja Nkangi how deeply government should tighten screws on homosexuals in Uganda. Maybe an island in the lake will do for us gay Ugandans? Marooned till the day we die, then there will not be any gays in Uganda. Out of sight, sound, even thought.
Poor Uganda. Are the likes of Mayanja Nkangi, Nsaba Buturo, and Martin Ssempa able to follow the logic of their suggestions? At least the Mufti was very clear on what he thought the logical conclusion should be.
Man’s life’s a punny detail, in the huge grand plan; a drop of water in the ocean, a breeze to stir a leaf in a gale.
My world, Kampala is convulsed in Chogm. The meeting has started. Correction. The meeting is starting today. But for most people in Kampala, it started a few days ago, when they realised that it would be almost impossible to come into town easily when the meeting was ongoing. So, the roads have been clear of traffic. A couple of public holidays were declared, and embraced by those who could. Curiously, the president decided that the people who he controls least, the business people, should open their shops. While the civil servants and buying public relaxed at home and out of the city. My world, I said, but it seems that I have been otherwise employed. It is like a dream that I am passing through. Knowing that it is, that the whole of my world is deep in the worship of that almost deity, the fabled Queen of England, alive and walking in the flesh the soil of Uganda. We have a deep seated reverence of royalty. The Kabaka of Buganda had a demi-god status. Literally, to greet him, his loyal subjects lay down on the ground so that he stepped on them. If he so willed. He had the power of life and death, at the blink of his royal eye. The other kings were not much worse. The Iguru of Bunyoro is still very much a god in the eyes of his people. So is the Kyabazinga of Busoga. A fracas was caused when his photo was put on one of the Chogm billboards. The guy had possed for the pic, but his people were horrified at the act of lesse majeste. It is curious. The Queen of England has her face plastered on the streets of Kampala. But the Kabaka of Buganda, the Royal Majesty in whose kingdom she is at the moment, cannot have his august face so defamed. It would be deeply insulting to Buganda royalists! A very interesting world that I live in.
Why do I write? I don't know. Maybe it is because there is so much happening. Much that we consider incosequential. When I saw the small birds eating grass seed on my lawn, I just felt like writing that down. A poem. Not realy a celebration of the excellence of language. But a trial, an attempt, to take a snap shot of that which is and remember it. To freeze it. My lover complained that the lawn was too bushy. So it was trimmed. But I am afraid my little birds will not return. The table has been removed, the dishes packed away clean.
I have been walking through Kampala. I must say I was sceptical of all these preparations for the Commonwealth Heads of Government meeting (Chogm), but they seem to have transformed the city a bit.
As I entered my place of work, I thought I must write down something to remember this. Not great poetry. Forgive me. But it is a reflection of the imperfect perception of my very human eyes and mind.
Kampala is prim and primed, -ready for Chogm; the roads are washed clean, (though the rains remain heavy), the windows are dressed, the fires are lit, and the streets match with light.
A bride, Kampala is- a bride plumped and ready; the smile flashy blinding, the face chisel fashioned, mascara running in place.
But the groom in waiting- is a strange one this groom. Ago she ruled here, of now, only in name; ago, of her grandma, when grandma empress was, the god-man (kabaka) ruler, sent grandma empress a letter;
(they say it was for hand of empress; that was lost in translation), invitation to visit, visitor turned protector, till 45 years gone- the land was left returned.
Grandchild comes back in fancy- turned to empress without lands; though empire still now stands, and Uganda is but a far flung jewel.
The pearl’s already shining, the luster burnished and braised, all the light reflecting, in blinding smile of pride.
Never before has she shone so, maybe this bride will shine again; but of now, she shines, Kampala shines, though the valleys hide her muddy hems, she smiles, smiles the bride Kampala, awaiting the groom empress, In all her glittering fancy and joyful pride, Kampala’s ready for Chogm.
I have just read the Red Pepper. The Red Chilli, as one joker called it. Of course I had to read it, but I had determined not to buy the paper. It is a joke. A bad joke, and the fact that I cannot seem to ignore its bad jokes is galling!
My lover saved me the struggle. He bought it, and left it still pinned in the living room. Eye catching headline, '20 Top City Lesbians Named and Shamed'. And inside, Part 3 of the Weird Sex InvestigationSeries’ Homo Terror!
I read it, and started laughing. It is so stupid that it is hilarious. This is a rug, not worth the paper it is written on. They seem to have checked out the ‘Gay Uganda’ website, for some information about Kabaka (King) Mwanga being gay. Curiously, this bombshell was actually dropped by Ssempa, when he wanted to prove that ‘state sponsored homosexuality’ was a bad thing. He stated that homosexuality was in Buganda, Uganda before the coming of Christianity. (New Vision, Martyrs day 03/06/2006). Talk about shooting one’s self in the mouth- Ssempa has this amazing capacity.
Imagine, hard as it may be to believe, Kabaka Mwanga was gay, and when the martyrs denied his advances, he killed them. As was his right as a demi-god!
Red rug presents this as new information.
And then goes on to say that we are sponsored by a world wide organisation called LGBT with headquarters in all continents. That is where I started laughing. The rest of the article is so much bull shit, that I could not imagine it was written. And people spend money on this shit? And they believe the Red Rug?
Apparently, LGBT is funding us. And they go ahead and list the monies we are supposed to have got. How lucky we are!
(To the un-inititiated, LGBT is what we call ourselves. Representing the diversity of human sexualities. Lesbian, gay, Bisexual, Trangender. They forgot one letter, I for Intersex.)
Some girls are named as gay. As are some more guys. Names, description, place of residence etc. And then they have the gal to say that the Red rug is helping the Tabliq anti-gay squad to find the homosexuals who they did not know.
Irresponsible journalism. Again they will move on, and we shall pay the consequences.
Kuchus are actually very angry. It is a measure of our helplessness that this rug has not been dragged to court as yet.
But we shall go on. We shall win, because we are on the side of truth. I have never been so sure of that. I do have a martyr’s complex. Not the Osama Bin Laden type. But I am so convinced of the rightness of my cause that the stupidity of things done in the name of ‘morality’ just makes me more determined. Nsaba Buturo and Ssempa will go ahead enlisting the likes of Red rug as allies in their fight against homosexuals. But we will win. Because we are human beings, and what we put across is the truth. And because we are betting with our lives. Our very lives, and nothing is more precious than that.
