Pastors should tow away truck that refuses to leave Namugongo

The wider agreement is that the truck wails at 3am calling out its owner to come back for it. That it also warns anyone attempting to tow it.

Now that is a truly special way to live rent-free, literally. You’ve a dead truck and know it will take you back millions of shillings via parking fees, just park it in a public space then get scary tales told around about the truck. It works.

The other day some chaps from Lugave clan played the psyche with the roads authority, Unra, saying this sacred tree would not come down.

People even got edited clips from the internet and used it to show that it was our own Lugave sacred tree that would stand right back up whenever a bulldozer rolled on it.

As we speak, the Lugave sacred tree is no more. And now there is this truck. Perhaps it is time for religious leaders and the Mama Finas to really earn their keep because we seem to have been sending the wrong persons to tow away the truck.

This is like the MPs who have been harassing Uganda Airlines boss Jennifer Bamuturaki instead of summoning the appointing authority to answer for their misdeeds.

If that truck is indeed defiant like alleged then either the Mama Finas or Pastor Kayanjas should easily handle it. Unra proved last time that it can do its job regardless of mutterings from psychics.

Imagine this truck is just some few hundred metres from the Namugongo Martyrs Shrine. Let’s get some of that sacred water believers carry in jerry cans, sprinkle it on the truck and it will even drive itself away in fear of the power of “Gad”.

How can a mere truck live rent-free in both public space and public heads? This is when you ask those MPs who are harassing Jennifer Bamuturaki for accepting a job given without her consent to instead go out there and tour the truck to ascertain what to do about it.

There was a time I thought it was just a childhood thing, then a village thing, but now I’m seeing it in Kampala. As a child, we were told that smearing the heart of this bird with two long tails in your palm and greeting a girl would make her yours for life. We would spend days hunting that bad until we killed one and followed the process with no result.

Next was the dragonfly. That you kill, dry it and pound then apply the powder where a girl has stepped or peed and she would follow you to the grave. Of course, I tried with no result.

Then one day, playing in goal, I stuck a safety pin in a sodom apple (solanum incanum) and placed it under the goalpost. I had been told I would be better than Sadique Wassa as long as the entuula-like thing was with me.

I conceded four De Gea-like goals before I realised that I needed to work hard to stop the fibre balls from crossing the goal line instead of relying on juju.

Same happened to my team once. Boys were taken to a stream in the dead of the night. Chicken was slaughtered and the blood used to wash their jerseys which were made to fly in the air. They got instructions on how to wear their socks inside-out.

To cut the story short, they lost the qualifier tournament.

So what? If that truck has to be towed away, someone is simply not doing their job and blaming imaginary sounds. With this, I submit my proposal to take up the contract to tow away that truck.