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A clash of two Ugandas
What you need to know:
My neighbour was of Indian descent...
Firsts: I chose to break my Uganda Airlines virginity. Again, I had vowed to keep a distance from our ‘airline’ when it was in the news. But I turned back on these words. I realised I may not agree with management, but I agree with the concept of Uganda Airlines. And thus, I made my maiden flight on our Bombadier.
It all started on Friday. I volunteered at a certain not-for-profit organisation and was invited to pitch at the Innovation Consortium in Bweyogerere. On any other Friday evening, I would have been somewhere following the rules of a certain friend. On Fridays, this friend reverts to a hedonistic philosophy. It treads on the lines of ‘we count what has entered the body.’ Basically, the only thing you really own is that which you move with. All else, belongs to the world.
Anyway, I could not turn down the opportunity to be subjected to a panel of intelligent young men and women as they dissected this idea of a not-for-profit before they could release some funding. The questions were tough, but the conversations were lucid, the kind that transcends ‘emeere ya leero.’ We all agreed, we had to put a brick on this concept called ‘Uganda’. That no one was going to build this concept, we had to play an active part in the formation.
Then we entered the weekend, and I was sadly ruled out of the Rwenzori Marathon. Again, another beautiful concept that is rejuvenating Kasese. You know, we Ugandans are yet to meet Uganda. We are yet to meet ourselves. It is easy to meet someone born in Mbale, raised in Mbale and died in Mbale. And that person will not have the slightest of ideas about Kasese. With concepts such as the Rwenzori Marathon, Ugandans get a chance to meet themselves and realise that Uganda is larger than our suburbs.
Armed with the weaponry from Friday, I chose to break my Uganda Airlines virginity. Again, I had vowed to keep a distance from our ‘airline’ when it was in the news. But I turned back on these words. I realised I may not agree with management, but I agree with the concept of Uganda Airlines. And thus, I made my maiden flight on our Bombadier.
At the check-in, the gentleman inquired if I had any money inside my luggage. I confessed that indeed there was some money. “How much is it?” he inquired. “Some 100K.” He advised me to remove it. But I was not about to reorganise my luggage. Deep down, I was on my first date with Uganda Airlines. So be it, I said to myself. Let them take that money, it will be enough weight for me to never return.
Then came the flight. The Uganda Airlines team was a combination of a one Captain Dennis Ochum and Isabella Namubiru, to mention but a few. Did I tell you friends that it was beautiful to see Ugandan drinks served on board. Our beautiful ka waragi, and our ka bondo. But Uganda was not yet done with me. My neighbour was of Indian descent, until we started a conversation. She had lived in Uganda for the past 25 years and the husband was a Ugandan. I told her; “then you are not Indian, you are Ugandan.” I wondered how she had performed these miracles. “I am a rebel,” she confessed. I would later learn that she was one of the few pulmonary specialists in this country. We went on a tangent on my other topics. She lectured me on lungs, on the dos and don’ts. I also questioned her on why doctors cannot explain love. Where does it come from? We talked Covid-19 and our famous rats. What had become of our rats? Were they now in boarding school? Had they sat for their Primary Leaving Examinations? Sooner than later, our flight touched base, and we parted ways.
But I was disturbed. In one week, I had interacted with two Ugandas. There was a Uganda that was working and it represented progress, it represented all the possibilities to do with Uganda. It is the Uganda where we had a marathon in Kasese, we had a Navio at Sheraton and a Gravity in Lugogo. In this Uganda, young people organisations such as Innovation Consortium and Africa Nxt Gen had found a mission. In this Uganda, a Captain Dennis Ochum worked with a Namubiru on the same flight and delivered happy passengers to their destination. In this Uganda, a doctor of Indian descent could live happily ever after with a man from Teso. This Uganda transcended tribe, race, descent, ideological orientation, it was a Uganda that sought possibilities.
Yet, there was also a Uganda where a Range Rover guy ran down a boda boda. There was a Uganda where the most energetic of the workforce was going to the Middle East. There was a Uganda where the streetlights would never work. There was a Uganda where intellectual curiosity had been thrown out of the window. There was a Uganda where excellence mattered no more, it was now the ability to crack deals, and to claim connections to those who crack deals.
I could not reconcile the contradictions of these two Ugandans. For it seemed like there was one Uganda that was building and another Uganda that was trying too hard to demolish. And these two Ugandas were clashing and had resolved that only one Uganda would win. The shocker was that when I investigated the boxing ring, the Uganda I hated to win, was winning. It was high time we all cheered for the Uganda that deserved to win. And I wondered; ‘Is this too much to ask of Ugandans?’ But then I realised someone would shout back; ‘Tolina kyotugamba, twayisekko dda.’
Twitter: ortegatalks
