Letter to the IGP

 

Dear Mr. IGP,

How are you?

Did you sleep well last night? Did you have a good dinner?

I DID NOT.

I did not because your boys arrested me on my way to work last week. You see Mr. IGP, unlike you, I have been walking to work form the time I arrived in kampala. The only time I sit in a car is when I am returning to my home in Nebbi.

From last week, your boys have been pretty busy beating up and arresting anyone seen walking. Has walking become a crime? Or must we acquire walking permits? How does one apply for one? Are there classes of walking permits like those of drivers? Lots of questions for you Mr. IGP.

I am angry with you and your entire team. You see, when your boys arrested me last week, my employer fired me on grounds of absconding from duty.I tried to explain my situation to him when I was released 7 hours later but he would hear none of it. I am now jobless. All because of you.

We wait and see....

Mr. IGP, I am a married man and I have two sons. What will I tell them when there is no food at the dinner table? What will I tell them when they are chased from school? What will I tell their mother when I can not find money to buy mukene? What will I tell the landlord when I can not find rent fees for this muzigo?

You see Mr. IGP, I was barely surviving thanks to the meagre income from my previous job. Now,sir I do not know…

This maybe the last time you are hearing from because when that kilo of mazize flour is finished, we shall have nothing left to eat.

PS; – Tell your boys – Sgt. Tabaro that I was inncoently walking to my work place when beat me up and bundled me onto the waiting Police Truck.

     – Tell those irresponsible Police officers that my eldest son is now very ill because of the teargas they merceilessly sprayed at his school.

    – Tell them that my wife has lost her radiant smile.

For God and my Country.

Victimised Citizen.

This song has been on my mind lately….

Just because I can not find the words to fit the post…I will give you this song. It has been on my mind and I had to ask my girl Tracy at SanyFM to play it for me…..

The song is Colors of the Wind. I feel these lyrics….Vanessa was speaking to me.

Colors of the Wind

Vanessa Williams

 

You think you own whatever land you land on
The earth is just a dead thing you can claim
But I know every rock and tree and creature
Has a life, has a spirit, has a name

You think the only people who are people
Are the people who look and think like you
But if you walk the footsteps of a stranger
You’ll learn things you never knew you never knew

Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon
Or asked the grinning bobcat why he grinned?
Can you sing with all the voices of the mountain?
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind?
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind?

Come run the hidden pine trails of the forest
Come taste the sun-sweet berries of the earth
Come roll in all the riches all around you
And for once, never wonder what they’re worth

The rainstorm and the river are my brothers
The heron and the otter are my friends
And we are all connected to each other,
In a circle, in a hoop that never ends

Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon
Or let the eagle tell you where he’s been
Can you sing with all the voices of the mountain?
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind

How high does the sycamore grow?
If you cut it down, then you’ll never know

And you’ll never hear the wolf cry to the blue corn moon
For whether we are white or copper-skinned
We need to sing with all the voices of the mountain
Need to paint with all the colors of the wind
You can own the earth and still
All you’ll own is earth until
You can paint with all colors of the wind

We started the Holy Week today. May the Lord guide, protect and bless you all. Have a good week.

Words of Wisdom:

“You can not depend on your eyes when your imagination is out of focus.” Mark Twain

March Recap

A new month is here. April. The month of rains. The month when Rwanda commemorates the genocide. This year it will be the 17th. The commemoration starts today. Let us join hands with our brothers and sisters of Rwanda and with one voice say: “NEVER AGAIN!”

This is a late post…a very late post.

This post should have been here about 5 days ago but as you know I am a busy man. Please do not point a finger. I already have enough issues to deal with. Thank you. Please bare with me as I rant…

In March, here in Uganda we wre still electing our leaders. On 14th, we had a re-run of the Kampala Mayoral elections.  Eria Lukwago won. My candidate, Sandra Ngabo lost. 

We had a number of public holidays: Women’s Day, Poetry Day, Tuberculosis Day, World Water Day. We are still parying for all the war ravaged countries – Yemen and Libya are cases in point.

Let us save our environment – Earth Hour

I found this and I thought I should share.  Have a blessed month. May God grant you all that you desires. May He direct your footsteps.

 

A week ago, while the new Lord Mayor of Kampala Hon. Elias Lukwago was chilling at home, trying to wind down after that hectic campaign schedule. He was sipping a cup of tea when his phone rang.

He asks his twin daughter to pass it on to him.

Phone: Riing riing

Lukwago: (picks it) Hello!

Seya: Yee Ssebo

Lukwago: Hello..Hello…I’m not getting you clearly.

Seya: Network is shaking heavily.

Lukwago: I can’t hear you, sir.

Seya: Extend further if you are not hearing.

Lukwago: Well, that’s much better. I can now hear you.

Seya: Congratulations.

Lukwago: Thank you. May I please know who I’m talking to?

Seya: The mayor.

Lukwago: Shya! Which mayor?

Seya: Of Kampala.

Lukwago: Unless you are a nightmare.

Seya: No, even during the day, I am still Hajji Nasser Sebaggala. But call me Seya.

Lukwago: Sorry, I thought it was an imposter.

Seya: No, no, no, I never had posters this time.

Lukwago: I mean imposter. Someone who disguised himself as somebody else is an imposter.

Seya: I don’t know that one. I never saw his disgusting poster.

Lukwago: Anyway, so what’s cooking?

Seya: Eh, Lukwago! You have a big nose! How could you smell it from there? Actually It’s Biringanya. My wife is in the kitchen roasting it.

Lukwago: Haha… So, why did you call me?

Seya: I calling to tell you know that city council is not easy.

Lukwago: What do you mean?

Seya: You have to be careless with the people.

Lukwago: I don’t understand.

Seya: You have to care less about their deals.They are terrific.

Lukwago: I’m confused. What makes them terrific?

Seya: They terrify you with threatenings of death if you don’t get similar with their plans.

Lukwago: Don’t worry; I will handle them my way.

Seya: You can’t find them on your way. They stay in posho areas like Kololo, Naguru, etc.

Lukwago: Leave them to me. Anyways, sorry, I didn’t come to visit you at Nakasero hospital when you were feared dead.

Seya: Yah, that was a seriously terrible. They announced along the radio that I had died.

Lukwago: But what exactly happened?

Seya: The degree of sugar had risen in the blood. The doctor admitted me and put me on bottles of water.

Lukwago: That was sad.

Seya: No, no. It was pressure. The doctor treated me and after two days, I was dispatched.

Lukwago: That’s good to hear.

Seya: Anyway, another thing I called to congratulation you for being elected and wish you good in your term of office.

Lukwago: Thank you. So, I heard rumors that you’ve had enough, how do you desire to retire?

Seya: Stop discussing history. And it is the newspapers that think that. Desire was just a friend.

Speak soon Bye