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A king’s jubilee and Uganda’s nouveau revolutionaries
What you need to know:
The haggling, the sweet endearments, the lugambo...
What a week. Does the past week need an introduction; the gun tattoo, the toilet, another toilet and a child that will be born to us? Oh that child, all the way from the fashion capital of Rome... It was such a week.
It’s been such a busy week. Yours truly claimed more years in this world. And perhaps, even more rights of acting upon a lived experience. And as he was at it, some kingdom was celebrating its anniversary. The king told his subjects that the secret was one; ‘if you do God’s work, God will do your work.’ And for the last 50 years, the king claims he’s been doing nothing but God’s work. Between the king and God, one of them must be confused about each other’s work.
Anyway, the king was more romantic, he even pulled off some dance moves and one could confirm that ‘Uganda ewooma.’ From the king, we welcomed the queen, it’s the queen that brought a smile to the men’s face. “Please let your man be. Leave your man alone,” thus said the queen. It was the truest advice ever been given in this generation. We were not complaining. What did the prince say? As fate would have it, the prince’s speech was interrupted by the revolution.
When they said, ‘the revolution would be televised’, no one imagined that it would be on our smartphone screens. Therefore, on Friday, we ushered in the revolution. It was launched with an AK-47 tattooed on the body of the revolutionary. It was not a revolution of bullets, but a revolution of possibilities. Hardly had the weekend passed when the real revolution happened. And didn’t everyone have a comment. Suddenly, everyone was an expert of the revolution. Poor us, we’d anticipated that we would spend the weekend reflecting on the king’s anniversary. But no, in just a few megabytes, it was as though the king never was, and the queen never was. That should worry the king and the prince. While they stock up on all kinds of artillery, it looks like the new revolution is not being fought with the weapons of yesterday. It goes without saying that ‘the revolution of 2023 is being fought with intangible weapons, weapons much superior, much sophisticated to the ones of 1986.’ So, what next?
Did I mention that soon and very soon, a baby will be born. Some believe it could be the Messiah, the great light of Bukedea, blessed in Rome by the Holy see. This baby is coming to save the world, or at least save Uganda from itself. But again, that doesn’t explain the current revolution. The revolution is happening, yet many could miss it. It’s right before everyone’s eyes, hidden in plain sight.
To understand the psyche of a nation, one must risk going into the depths of the nation’s darkness, the pits of its collective unconscious. The Ugandan unconscious is getting conscious, a day at a time. The anniversary came and went like it had never come in the first place. Yet, the revolution stayed with us, it was with everyone, on every phone, in every discussion, in every public place. Although the revolutionaries were being whipped by Uganda’s pseudo-moral police, they had sparked off ideas. They had unpacked the endless streams of our psyche.
In the Ugandan psyche, we skirt around our truths. In the Ugandan psyche, we worship those who may harm us, even when we deeply despise them. In the Ugandan psyche, if you get on the road, you’re more important than anyone. In the Ugandan psyche, we confess nothing, the end justifies the means. But one day, we shall delve deeper into this psyche. But it could be the matrix that controls all of us. It’s there, it runs us. Some have a few glances at it, but we are in this being spun in the web of this psyche. Some see it and are shocked. Others see it and shout; ‘eureka’, and then adapt accordingly. To deny this psyche is to deny the wheels that turn Uganda. But enough of this Jungian madness, these are things universities should teach their students. And in turn, the students should cascade this to society.
Off to the lighter things. Mother says if you want to enjoy life, you must be as light as possible. Do not own what you can buy. Do not buy what you can rent. Those who own nothing, own everything. That’s what mother told me. In the same regard, I have been cheating on my barber openly. Not my own doing, but every time I happened, I found him busy showcasing his greatness on other men’s heads. I was left with no option but to try his colleague. The problem with his colleague is that he’s yet to master that ‘ka-pencil.’ You know if your barber doesn’t have that coloured pencil, you need to fire your barber. My barber knows that I do not have the signature East African forehead. But his colleague wasn’t aware of the nuances of my head. He kept stretching the hairline so far, to force that East African forehead. Luckily, luckily, I returned home to my barber. And he went overboard. If comments are to go by, it’s been handsome, Mr. king, all names that pertain to royals. And that for me was my revolution.
All Hail the Mpeera Revolution! Hasta La Victoria Siempre.
Twitter: ortegatalks
