Here’s to the Ugandan spirit that can be beaten and bruised, but can never be broken

There is something indomitable about the Nile. Something about it being unrestrained and unchallenged. Whether she is climbing down steep falls, thundering past large rapids, or gently sashaying down quiet stretches; no weapon formed against her can ever prosper. In her, the shape of water carries the dreams and testimonies of millions who have lived here before, and the billions who will come after us.
A few kilometres downstream is the spot where two confused white explorers first saw what they thought was the source of the Nile. They were corrected by locals and guided almost 30 kilometres upstream, to where Lake Nalubaale empties her soul to be carried into the distance where thirsty throats await.

Would life have been better had we not been “discovered”, then colonised? Would it have been worse? Would we have found ourselves eventually and built upon the many aspects of our collective humanity that unite us? Would we have continued to fight amongst ourselves? Would one kingdom have emerged dominant and taken the rest under its wing? We will never know.

What I know, Dear Reader, is the beauty and peaceful calm that can be found in this, our land, if you look carefully and listen quietly. Have you seen the unspoilt beaches of the islands in Lake Nalubaale where the waves and the white sand tease and tickle each other in a spellbinding water romance? Have you seen the moonlight dance off the lake on a calm, peaceful night?

One day, should the gods find favour in you, they might let you see the sun set lazily in Kabalega National Park, with herds of elephants silhouetted against elegant palms and giraffes so graceful, they could disarm a hostage-taker. And if you are inclined to travel back in time, a trek to track mountain gorillas will test your footing and leave you questioning your life choices: how can you ever cut down a tree after being in a forest so beautiful, or buy a bag of charcoal without feeling like a baby killer?

The towns and cities are where our humanity comes to die. Shaken on potholed roads and with lungs clogged by air heavy with dust, urban folk are much harder to deal with, for their hearts have been shrivelled in the furnace of capitalism. Here people are rude and impatient. You can’t stay still. Snooze and lose. The streets lurk with eagle-eyed crooks ready to prise away a mobile phone, bag or side mirror – but at least these do not pretend to like you, like those on the white-collar side of corporate crime.

It is all part of the package. Drive through Kampala twice without killing anyone, being killed, or being insulted by a boda boda rider, and you can drive anywhere in the world. Spend five minutes with a customer care agent without losing your head and you can diffuse a bomb with your bare hands. It is said that y’all Ugandans going to hell will serve half the time, in recognition of the time done here.

But on its good days, we wouldn’t trade it for any place in the world. There’s a spirit that binds us, say when the Uganda Cranes are winning, or when one of our athletes is showing the world a clean pair of heels. Like Joshua Cheptegei rising out of the ashes of Kololo to find gold dust on the global scene; there is a kennel of resilience deep inside us, an unbreakable ability to pick ourselves up, dust it off, and keep going.
Governments and rulers will come and go, but there’s something in us that is unbreakable and unabatable. Bana, tituli bangu!  May we never stop dreaming of, and working for, a better Uganda.

Mr Kalinaki is a journalist and  poor man’s freedom fighter. 
[email protected]; @Kalinaki