This is our Country

Well, I can stand beside ideas I think are right

And I can stand beside the idea to stand and fight

I do believe there’s a dream for everyone

This is our country

Those are the opening lines of John Mellencamp’s famous song ‘Our Country’. He sings about what we all call home, he voices out a desire for freedom, where a country belongs to all, from the east coast to the west coast. That science should live, there should also be room for religion to forgive, and all should be accommodated irrespective of diversity in opinion and thought.

We live in a ‘small’ space, occupied by a multilingual society, enclosed within colonial generated geographical boundaries, governed by a group of people who by our choice or otherwise have occupied those spaces. Gathered in huddles, our artificial habitats are sprawled all over the country, the rich and the poor alike and for those who claim to be neither. However something invisible to the human eye seems to separate us, something that seems to give more entitlement to others, that which lets them off the hook when they err and allows others to rot in prison even when their conscience is clear.

This week alone, power and might was once again at display. Not new to us, same old script but this time with a different setting. We fixate our attention on the incident that involved a retired army general who reminded us that laws are not made for all. They are made for a few; some choose to respect them out of courtesy while others outrightly violate them but there is that class that sails above everything, to them they don’t even exist.

One of the famed two-star generals that this country has been gifted with, not in the heat of the moment, obviously not in combat, certainly not in a war zone, found himself provoked enough to draw a gun and shoot at a civilian’s car. Not the first time he has been involved in a controversy but we have since been acquainted with the ending. We look at all the actors involved and all have a stake in this country but ultimately, like in a lottery some have more stakes than the others and you could be forgiven to call them the real owners of the country.

This story reminded me of Martin Aliker’s own narrative in his memoir, The Bell is Ringing. When he was exiled in Kenya, being personal friends with President Kenyatta, he was offered the kind of protection any first class citizen would deserve. He was also sent to a training school where he would learn how to use firearms, how to assemble and dismantle a pistol. While there, he writes and says that he was told something that scared him. They said, “If you think your life is in danger, shoot not to hurt, but to kill. If you kill someone, we will arrange for bail, and the case will never come to court.”

Governments everywhere in the world are run in a similar fashion, there is Adolf Hitler and there is Arthur Neville Chamberlain, the British Prime Minister who failed to restrain the German Dictator in 1938. There is Joseph Stalin and there are Western supporters who defended the gulags. There is Saddam Hussein and there is the American government which in 1989, a couple of months after the gassing of hundreds of Kurds, doubled its aid to Iraq. There is Gideon Johannes Nieuwoudt, torturer of black and coloured people, and the foreign supporters of apartheid. There are the journalists from the hate radio station Mille Collines in Kigali, and there is the Pentagon which didn’t wish to disrupt the channel. There are the predators who kill and torture and there are those who watch and applaud or close their eyes.

But like President Museveni has on several occasions noted, there are three things that we should not be in hurry to mix together; a country, a nation and a state. I don’t know much about the last two but I am certain beyond doubt that this is a country for us all and I won’t hesitate to add that we own it.

Blessed week!

When Family met family; the beautiful homecoming

One of the core values of the school that accommodated me for my high school was freedom. This freedom albeit expressed freely had a cap to it; you had to assume responsibility in its exercise. So the very moment you were in the wrong and opted to pull out the freedom card, you would be quickly reminded that the school is not a haven where freedom thrives unchecked, rather you needed to know that there were particular confines that you wouldn’t overstep. It is this freedom that gave birth to various proto-types, that allowed ideas to germinate and nourished the tendrils of our mental creepers. We came up with bizarre ideas, some materialized but like any institution, some never saw the light of day.

Around the fifth month of 2013, two very brilliant club presidents (Geography and Wildlife) sat down and conceptualized an idea. This was no common idea and it threatened to attract even the big shots in government but most importantly it targeted the big, upper class and high end schools which would without doubt be a massive achievement if pulled off. The dates were attached and the letters dispatched. Today I refuse to discuss that event but I will talk about the concept  because it was what propelled many of us to the ground we stand on today. The long and short of the proposed event was to have schools gather for a quiz, atleast that is what we the outsiders know. But this event or rather the idea (because the event may not have happened) is very important because it was the foundation of the famous ‘5 Arts Friday weekly quiz’ which is famous and infamous depending on where you sat.  

Because majority of the class were interested in sitting for the Makerere University Law School Pre-entry two years later, we thought it wise to start our preparations as early. Every Friday evening (during prep) our class would be looking forward to this highly competitive quiz that involved politics, religion, entertainment and sports. The most knowledgeable on the respective subjects would prepare questions for the class and the winning column took the bragging rights for the week. It is not surprising that this was the only prep that got 100% attendance from a class of just 36 and with time, some of the members from the science class started joining in! The results were not inch-perfect but of the 20 that sat for the pre-entry test, 15 of us got in without trying hard.

Even when we got to university, that idea two years ago was not about to fade. The two presidents (of Geography and Wildlife who were now emeritus) summoned us once again, this time it wasn’t for a quiz but it was to find a solution to something more complex than everyday quiz questions; we needed a very quick turnaround for our Constitutional Law coursework. That gathering is very dear to me for various reasons but the standout is that it was the springboard for the very many other things that were to come in the future. The family grew bigger with time; it was no longer only for those who sat through the memorable Friday night quizzes but for many others who were happy to associate.

As a way to look back at the times gone by, to remind ourselves of the happy and difficult times I was happy to welcome the family I got while I was far away in school to the family where I was born and raised. It wasn’t the first time I was welcoming them but the circumstances of the previous time were less happy. The Igbo people say that when kinsmen gather in your compound to watch the moon, it is not because they can’t see it in their own compound but rather it is good for kinsmen to meet.

That event that was planned for May 2013 may never have happened but the parturition of that idea by those two presidents (Mugerwa and Courage) is worth looking back to because for me it birthed a family and it may be what we stand on for generations to come.

Blessed week ahead!

Anonymous giving- What don’t we understand?

Charles Onyango Obbo in his book Uganda’s Poorly Kept Secrets tells a story of a man living in London, who stumbles upon a story of a single mother from Namuwongo, a Kampala suburb who was struggling with her kids and other adopted children. This woman’s story had made it to the dailies and she was calling on well-wishers to help build her a shack where the family would put their heads. It captivated the man from London and before long he took it upon himself to send a weekly amount of money to this woman to cater for her needs and those of her children. No one knew the identity of the man.

Onyango Obbo tells another intriguing story, this time of a university student. A private student who had just joined her dream university, Makerere suddenly found herself without sponsorship after both her parents lost their jobs while she was in year one. She appealed to The Monitor newspaper then and it offered to run her appeal to good Samaritans to come up and help her. “Many people expressed sympathy, because that was all they could afford. One woman went further. She rang me and offered to pay fees for the young woman. Only on one condition: she would deliver the money to me to pass on, and I was never to disclose her identity. I agreed. So, without fail, at the beginning of every university term, she would send an envelope full of cash enough to pay the fees, and I would pass it on. The young woman graduated from university, and the family had an emotional party for her. She came with her mother, who was in tears, to my office to ask who the anonymous benefactor was so that they could invite her to the celebrations. The benefactor said she was touched, but insisted she wanted to remain anonymous. And so it is to this day.”

The idea of anonymous giving is one that fascinates to say the least but is intriguing at best. I have always desired to understand the genetic make of people who choose to do this. What are they made of? Why do they choose to do it that way? Is it humility? Are they embarrassed by the praise that would be lavished on them? Does it make them feel better?

This week alone I saw it play out on two separate occasions. There is a very popular program on Bukedde TV where the presenter comes out and appeals to the general public to offer some help to the often helpless. On this particular one, it was a minor who by a stroke of unimaginable mischance had become pregnant but was unable to look after the child, she could barely find what to dress in and the man responsible was on the loose. Well wishers from far and wide poured in various items including money but unexpectedly many of them insisted that their identities not be disclosed. It didn’t strike me as strange after all there was a whole web of interminable complications that still shrouded this particular matter. Perhaps they could have avoided the full glare that comes with media attention but I maybe I was wrong.

However, while in church on Sunday the circumstances were completely out of the ordinary. The Chaplain at church announced to us the purchase of new musical items. We were further informed that these were not any usual instruments but state of the art. They had cost a fortune and these had been contributed by one family who were part of the congregation but preferred not to be mentioned. These were two separate events, same storyline, probably with similar intentions and exactly the same end results.

Later in the day as I engaged in a discourse with a pal, I learnt much more and got a better understanding of the occurrences. There are many Christian values that many of us have by omission or even commission chosen to neglect, that many of our spiritual fathers have for their own individual interests refused to teach, that for example giving should never be about being praised by those around or your neighbors and neither should it be a show contest. It should be between you and your God. Genuine giving is never about who is seeing, it is more about someone’s heart. I know we are in an age where recognition is important, where everyone wants a podium mention for what they give, are giving or yet to give but many times that takes away the real reason for doing what we do. In this conversation, my friend told me she would feel ‘embarrassed’ if her name had to be mentioned every time she gave something. “It would invite eyes that look at you in different forms. That is why I would do everything to make sure I am not mentioned.”

As J D Rockefeller said, we should begin thinking about giving not as a duty but as a privilege but this should not be a privilege we flash across the world for all others to see.

“But when you help a needy person, do it in such a way that even your closest friend will not know about it.” Mathew 6:3

Blessed week!

 

We need to feel Safe

Late last year, while everyone was going about their normal business, a story emerged. Two people of full age had been at the centre of a rather ugly unfolding. At the time the first narrative emerged, it was from a third party, one who had been confided in by the alleged victim, obviously the one who found it uglier. In a heartbeat the story had been picked up on various social media platforms with diverse opinions being formed even with the scanty facts at play. The purported wrongdoer was also drawn into the fray where he obviously denied the knowledge of whatever was being said and even threatened legal action for dragging his name through the dirt. Like every story, it was to be soon swept away by the winds of another raging and fresh tale but however it didn’t just go away, it left a trail.

In the wake of this story, there were many discussions that I found myself engaged in but one particular one stood out. In what was supposed to be an academic gathering, we found ourselves wavering off to discuss the events around us, about life and what occupied our minds. For the two or so hours we spent, the discussion was around sexual harassment and the biggest fear expressed by the girls in the room that day was that they no longer felt safe, especially around boys no matter who it was. The guys they didn’t suspect were the actual predators, those who spoke good English and dressed nicely, those that were gentle and charming, ever smiling; their biggest strength being their unpredictability. Many were actually public figures, who sat on high tables at events and would even give speeches in mammoth crowds. But in a bat of an eyelid, these guys would turn into beasts. The girls later asked a fundamental question, how can we feel safe if we are not sure about those around us? I didn’t leave that question in that room, I carried it around with me everywhere I went, I wanted to probe and see and also ask those around me. Unfortunately, I didn’t find an answer.

The past week has only served to re-awaken this million dollar question that I have often toyed with.  As I was still recovering from the horrors of the R Kelly revelations, where countless accusations were being leveled against him for sexual violence against little children, I listened to a horrifying story from a friend who narrated a rather related ordeal but the difference was that this was not a celebrity miles away, it was a nightmare of people I interact with, those I talk to and many I used to respect. It reminded me of that gathering I had sat in only months ago when the culprits were described as gentle and smart, with good looks and appear respectable. Their fickle nature was their biggest strength and more boldness is required from the victims. They need to name them; we should shame them, shun them and isolate them, that can be the only way to show them that we are not ready to accept their very bad ways.

I am not so good with music but I know a thing or two about musicians especially those that pull crowds like the one R Kelly pulled at Lugogo in 2010. The headline in the dailies the following day screamed, “We want more.” He had stepped on stage, performed and left everyone yearning for more. A space of 8 years has however altered so much, it may not have reduced his net-worth but it has certainly put a stain on his brand, he may still sing like he used to but many may never listen to his songs the same way, if they ever listen to them at all. If the world was to scream for him today and for all other sexual harassers, it wouldn’t be to ask for more but to call them to order because such habits are uncouth and disgusting. The world and like everyone else deserves better.

On a lighter note I wish all those graduating this week from the prestigious Makerere University all the best in their journey ahead. Many employees like to say that the difference between a brilliant student and an average one is seen the moment you step out into the field of work. On an individual basis, many of this year’s graduates were my classmates at some point but they chose a shorter route to the destination we are all headed for. I hope to join you soon.

In the same spirit I also would like to wish Steven of house Nuwagira, a great friend of mine a happy birthday. He has many very special attributes but what stands out for me is his work ethic and ability to come up with solutions in a trice. Back in high school, I worked with him on our school magazine and just when we were almost through, a high powered virus attacked our computer and erased all our work, only two people knew about it. He came up with a rather quick solution and it saved our necks that time. Happy birthday once more!

Manchester United fans are already having a great week; I wish the rest a better week ahead!

Will 2019 offer better? We only have to hope

One of my mum’s favorite lines goes like, “Time doesn’t change, it is people that change in our eyes.” Of course she says this in the local dialect and it is laden with so much wisdom, it triggers thought and makes you understand situations you thought you never would. She likes to say it at the end of her incessant tales, but personally it has taught me to put up with so much. But that is not why I refer to it today; I want to say that much more than the people, time actually shifts and that is why we see 2018 disappearing like a blur at a distance and the 2019 horizon taking shape.

For many like me, 2018 would rather have not come, but for some, they wished it had not ended. As some people grieved and mourned others celebrated yet another year, when some were making vows others thought it was time to undo them, some were getting their dream jobs others were being relieved of their duties, it was a cycle at both ends. But both can come into 2019 hoping for better, for a brighter year for a better time. I am not one who likes to make start of the year resolutions but my constant resolution is to be better than I was the previous year, in finances, in knowledge, in the circle of friends, to write more often and to generally improve in everything in life.

A rather interesting chained message was making rounds at the start of the year that it is only the date that had changed, your income, spouse, level of education etc all had remained constant. A friend of mine on their status put it this way, “2019 is going to be exactly like 2018 because time is just an abstract concept created by man and has no real or actual bearing on what you achieve.” Many may disagree but opinions are like a nose, everyone has theirs.

There is a certain excitement that engulfs us at the start of another year, it is something like a hope for something better, a new slate to write everything afresh or all over again, new beginnings if you like. In our local dialect you won’t miss the congratulatory messages when someone meets you, thanking you for completing the old year and starting a new one, it seems like a routine, something that is done as a cultural practice but boy oh boy it is something worth celebrating. As we start this New Year my message to all is simple, let us shun mediocrity and improve ourselves in any way we can.

As part of my year’s weekly schedule, I will try and make out a blog post at least once. I will be sharing how my week was, talk about something outstanding that I saw or was part of or what I learnt, in those little bits I will try and tell my story. Today I will share something about the lay man’s perspective of women, call it the manifestation of patriarchy if you like.

The past week has been somewhat labour intensive and now and then I was involved in some casual work in the farm at home. Through this I have had to work with many people who have not crossed a school compound even once. Because of the nature of work, it doesn’t attract anyone beyond that level and it explains my company. I also feel bad about the wages I have to pay them at daybreak compared to the energy they use but that is for another day. While working, we talk about many things, of course the level of discussion being about the basic things, from President Museveni desiring that his son be the next president to oil in the Albertine having already been extracted by Museveni, plus many other stories that will definitely amuse anyone. I rarely engage except to laugh and eke them on.

But this one particular discussion caught my attention, it was the one on wives and how they are treated by their husbands. Many of those I was working with are around my age and some slightly younger than me, but because they had no school to pre-occupy them have already founded homes (families if you like). They return home to welcome songs from their little children, to food and hot water prepared by their wives while I walk home hoping they didn’t forget me for the lunch meal. But particularly disturbing was the fact that all the boys (read men) present had each confessed to having beaten their wives. I listened to them justify their wrong doings and it hurt, because they returned home earlier than them, because they spoke suspiciously on phone or maybe that they had answered them back. I asked them how it feels to beat someone and you have to sleep in the same bed just minutes later. They laid claim to the fact that they own the home and would not tolerate any kind of “indiscipline” from a woman. I didn’t engage further because the more I probed, the more justified they felt in defending what is clearly wrong. As we parted ways I felt bad that there was nothing I could do to protect their weak and helpless wives but I promised that just like my dad did many years ago, I would also raise my sons to be better.

The beginning of the year sermon was also one that caught my attention, the kind that reminded us to put ourselves right this year. My biggest takeaway however was an important statement that the preacher made albeit in passing. He said that, “In this world, it is only civilized people who appreciate.” He was teaching us about how Christians in this day have jettisoned all their values, why it is important to thank someone who has protected you throughout the turn of the year and why we should have hope in 2019. We like to call ourselves civilized people, maybe what we could do is appreciate more.

I take the opportunity to also welcome back home the team (Sebastian Ivan Segawa and Shabil Ojambo) that represented Uganda at the World University Debate Championship in South Africa. It is not every day that we get representation at the WUDC, the last time we had a team there was when the country was still engulfed in the euphoria of discovering oil in the Albertine. The bigger debate community looks forward to learning from your experience garnered at the world stage.

Lastly, I wish all those at the Law Development Centre a happy term ahead. Maybe someday you will debunk the many myths talked about every time LDC features in a conversation.  

Till next time,

Have a rollercoaster week!

School Politics; A Change of leaders or a Leadership change?

The past few days have been rather eventful, many of those interested in offering themselves for leadership positions at my School have been up and about, helter-skelter if you like, making their declarations, official or unofficial I know less of the difference. But true to the fact, many are telling us of what we already know but of course others are just announcing themselves to the political stage. Not so long from today we shall gladly (or otherwise) sit back and watch them play out as protagonists in their own plot, with majority acting as supporting cast and like every show we shall have victors and villains.

The declarations that have been filtering through got me trudging back down memory lane about the far we have come, the number of past declarations I have heard and of course the countless manifestos that have been recycled to fit the purpose. The most visible change through the years is the timing for start of campaigns. Those who have walked the journey with me will remember that in our year one, it wasn't until the positions were advertised that majority of us got to know of those standing. It has changed over the years and today before even the first Christmas gift has arrived, half of those offering themselves have already given express notice to the entire world about their intentions. The remaining half, either having given constructive notice of their aspirations or hoping to do so before we have our end of year prayers. It speaks to many things, perhaps it is the level of competition that we ought to appreciate.  Or just maybe the Equity and Trusts classes are being given a more practical approach these days. Maxims in our days were just another lecture but for many today their application especially the long held equity maxim that 'for two competing equities, the first in time prevails' is being effectively applied. Whatever reason it is, I know that a time shall come when campaigns will be opened at the Finalists Dinner.

As the declarations of individuals kept flocking in, I noticed one of my colleague's status that stopped anyone from bothering him with manifestos after all he had lost faith in young leaders and would not be voting in our forthcoming Society elections. It intrigued me because this was an opinion of someone I held in high regard and it caused me to reflect on the nature of leadership those who have served us before have offered. Had they served to our satisfaction, did they do their best in the positions they held, what more would they have done, were the pledges fulfilled? All these questions came flooding in a torrent. He told me that with the exception of a few, many of those who had taken up leadership positions before had been a huge joke. I understand why he gave a few exceptions particularly because he has served in his position for three years now and for every year his mandate has been renewed with unanimous approval. But on a personal basis I feel at school level we don’t speak of as much disappointment as compared with university level. My own conviction is that service to others is the rent you pay for your room on earth and many of our leaders have done their best.

However why many may disagree with me and why my colleague above disagrees is that politics is not attracting as many good people as it should be. That is not to say that those in the fray are bad people but many choose to stay away majorly because of the rigours that come with running a campaign. It shouldn’t be an excuse that it is more difficult to convince intending lawyers but it should bother us if they demand for perks and perquisites. A retired local politician once asked me as between a university student that gets sweets and an elder in the village that gets soap and sugar for votes, who is the greedier one? My answer was that both were greedy but he insisted and said the one who gets a sweet is the one most greedy and this was his reason. He claimed that on the test of ‘necessity and luxury’, the sweets were something that one could easily do away with as opposed to the sugar and salt. But I feel we can create an environment that begins to attract the leaders that we want around.

I wish all the candidates the best political environment there is, to make their voices heard. There are races I will certainly keep my eyes glued on and two of such races is the race for the English Premier League title and the race for the top four.

Good luck!

Soccer Gala: Its Wars and Battles

Not many events are looked up to at Law School like the annual sports gala and this is for diverse reasons. For starters this is the event that caps off the year in terms of events organized by the Makerere Law Society; the Society’s top brass therefore take it upon themselves to give us a worthy Christmas send-off. Secondly, in a gala we have more of a social and fun-filled event that involves nothing to do with the law that we read and study, it is definitely bound to attract all and sundry. The gala is much more concerned about the talent that you possess and less about your ability to memorize cases, nothing to do with the number of times you have been in class or even your frequency to the library. For those with no talent to showcase, at least it gives licence to exhibit attire and outfits. Talking of outfits, each of the classes had through a private arrangement purchased soccer jerseys for them to be identified with. The little ones had been attracted to the beautiful Nigeria jersey that lit the world cup, second year preferred the Bayern Munich home kit, the third years favored the “noisy neighbors” home kit (wasn’t that enough to explain the noise) and of course the elders choiced the opulent PSG home kit. We could argue about the smartest until the cows come home but at the end of the day everyone has their taste and preference.

The day was event laden, many games of different kinds kicking off at the same time. Each class (from year one to four)  had the opportunity to field a player for the games being played, male or female it didn't matter, what was most important was that they played. From board games to those on the field, the only missing ones were the track games but again how fast do you expect intending lawyers to be?

Football was the most exciting of them all; it is a beautiful game there are no questions about that. But the momentum had been building for days, words were being thrown from either camp, the most pronounced of course being the battle between the elders (read third and fourth year). The trainings had been done prior and it was just the day that everyone was waiting for to prove and disapprove the other.

The football games being the center of attraction had the most intensity, the emotions ran high, at a point punches were thrown about but this wasn't all. Off the pitch, the words accompanied every tackle won, every pass made, every air duel, it was just crazy. In moments like these, you forget yourself, you forget about how you think you should behave (it is no excuse for fighting though), every part of you is wholly immersed in the game. The nervy moments were many, for my team (fourth year) we had to endure a penalty shootout in our first game, it was nervy but we got through. The second year team had many glimpses of glory but they squandered them just as we did with ours and in the end they bowed out albeit with their heads high because of the quality of their game.

The final perhaps was the most entertaining, say what you may but a final anywhere in the world is worth your every minute, never mind the words at pre-match. This was between the third year class and the fourth year class. The statistics before the game were in no one's favor. We had never won a final even when we have been there on two separate occasions before and the third years had scored their first goal in the previous game in as many years of attempt. It was game on for everyone, no history or pedigree to bank on; it was simply how best you performed there. Johan Cruyff the famous Dutch football who was behind the revolution of football to what we today call the “tick-tack” is quoted to have once said that, football is played by the brain and the legs are just a bonus. The third year team defied all the above but somehow they emerged victorious after a penalty shootout. Could it have been luck? Maybe or maybe not. My felicitations to the entire class, you expended lots of energy on much more than playing the game itself.

The consolation from some of the fourth year boys was that third year boys could have won the battle on pitch but not anywhere near to winning the war (off the pitch). From that statement I could gather that there was much more than just a game of sport that was being fought for. Well, I am not one of those boys; maybe one of them will offer an extension to this blog and tell us exactly what he meant.

Thank you Makerere Law Society!