When I was younger, I thought the world worked in complicated ways. That the adults knew so much, and it took much intelligence to hold their worlds together. Thus, mother and father were nothing but super parents. There is nothing, really nothing I thought they could not solve.
You annoy me? Mother will sort you. Running broke? Father will sort that. And they did a good job hiding and masking all signs that things were not holding. The adults in my life feared to show any weaknesses. If you asked for a bicycle, they just had to challenge you with something harder. If you become number one in your class, you get the bicycle.
Now that I am out of the 20s, and a bit wiser (or less stupid), I understand James Baldwin, who said this our world was held together, really held together, by the love and passion of very few people. I will argue, that this country, this Uganda, is held together by thin threads.
That law firm is held together by the sweat, tears and dreams of that clerk, that legal assistant. That relationship, is really held together, kept intact by the promise of its sombre sex. Boring as it may, it is the thin thread that makes couples see the next day.
Those small titles of Tata Brenan, Mama Kutney, is what has held marriages. Every one hangs in, because of the children.
And I wondered, how many homes have been held together by the maids. You will go to a billionaire’s home, and you will still find that aesthetic, that semi-illiterate lady, the one that never shares a spot on the dining table. She prepares everything. She knows the days big boss prefers a serving of katunkuma. She knows yet again when Mama Brighton cheats and when Daddy Brighton cheats. But she holds this thing together.
Again, ask yourself, how many projects are held together by the people that seem insignificant. Imagine what would happen if the massage parlours were closed? How many livelihoods has this held together?
Look at the clinics in your neighbourhoods, with those nurses and clinicians, think. Where would this health system be without them? They could diagnose and misdiagnose, but in their attempts, they hold this thing together. If they closed, the health system would have a sudden stop.
That roadside rolex and kikomando has maintained stomachs. That evening roadside kigere and Pilau is what moves the nation.
When Henry Muwanga wrote that Building the Nation poem, it is true indeed that the driver of the permanent secretary had played a part in building the nations. How many of a nation’s secrets are kept by people’s ADCs? How many more by the drivers?
You see TikTok happened in Uganda and it has been therapy and company for many people. My relatives in the older cohorts have embraced the app. Now they do not have to plead and pester one for grandkids, they have new company. But what about the Ugandan youth that could not land a job? There is something to apply their creativity, there is distraction. It is this distraction that saves many from worse thoughts. Think of a Chicken Chicken? A Planned Mulekwa? A Lil Pazzo, and a Sister Shalom?
Again, how many companies are held together by that Microsoft Excel model? You wake up tomorrow and payroll Excel sheet is broken, you will see trouble. When the garbage boy forgets to pick my rubbish, the impact is clear.
This country, friends, is held together, really held together by the dreams and wills of very few people.
You know what? There have been weeks when all that held Uganda was a nude video leak. Seriously, in those weeks the country would have collapsed but then a Bugie happened.
There have been weeks where a woman’s life has been held together by her pastor’s prophecy. There are tenants who have sustained a year telling their landlady; ‘next month bagenda tusasula...’ That transport money is important, it could be the small thing that holds together a livelihood in the countryside. Again, how many relationships have been built on the pure promise of marriage.
It is thin threads that hold society together. It is the basics. It is the one connection in police that saves someone a lifetime in Kitalya. That one phone call that alters the life of a clan. Thin threads people. Forget not to smile. Forget not to listen to beautiful music. Forget not to laugh at a joke. Forget not to buy some chocolate. Do not despise the thin threads.
Once I was bored, and I decided to return to the magic period. The time from 2000 to 2005, the time when Uganda dared to dream and imagine great things. Post 2005, Uganda inflected, to some rare direction. And I compiled beautiful music from that period. On that, someone made a spotify playlist. Thin thread, but who knows, it could rejuvenate a soul, just like the question; “eleeta manya ki?”
