The house always wins but it helps if you know how to game the system

One of my enduring memories from my Seventh-Day Adventist high school is a period we used to call Week of Prayer. Every Second Term, there would be a week when “Prep Time” was suspended and all of us would gather in the main hall to listen to the visiting preacher.

But were we listening? The number of notes crisscrossing between the male and female students would have given your favourite Teleco’s Happy Hour a run for its money. That’s why it was a popular week. It was Love Island on steroids. The week climaxed with a baptism event for students who heeded the message and converted. The new Pauls would then share a congratulatory meal with guests and staff. I am not quite sure what it was but it was different from what other students got served. 

A couple of students pretended to have turned away from Damascus because all they wanted was that sumptuous lunch. But a couple of others had an even more interesting reason. If you had a disciplinary case that could end up in a suspension or expulsion, what was a better show of remorse than publicly denouncing your old ways?Even if everybody knew that it was a ruse to get you off the hook, now you had the administration in a moral bind. People will do whatever they need to do to buy themselves another day.

If you understand this, you will think differently about why people make the decisions that they do. Last week, as Uganda celebrated its 62nd Independence Day, I was sitting on a bus trying to make sense of what it means to be Ugandan. Twelve years to the day, I had been a volunteer on a big project – I am Ugandan – which was part of the celebrations to mark the 50th anniversary. A lot has happened in the decade or so since then – and most of it not good. It is hard to tell if things are better today than they were when Uganda turned 50 – because the numbers don’t add up. But if you listen to the stories, we aren’t as bullish as we were. 

So, If I may quote myself, I tweeted, “Being Ugandan is a bit like living with a gambling addiction. You buy a ticket every day, hoping that today will be the day. On most days you lose. Once in a while, you win just a little to keep your hope alive. Whether you play or not, the house always wins.” The responses felt like I had spoken for many.This week, Olivia Lutaaya and 15 others who are charged with treachery and illegal possession of explosive devices pleaded guilty before the General Court Martial. It has been nearly four years of a trial that they shouldn’t have been charged with, in a court that had no business trying them.

In refusing to confess to what many knew to be bogus charges, Lutaaya and others proved their point about Uganda’s rule of law. Their confession – after four years – has further bolstered that point. Like the school administrator who is happy to have converted one more soul to their religion, the government might go home feeling like they won. But did they really?

She and her co-accused are in and around their 30s and were just coming out of their teens when Uganda made 50. They probably had dreams and ambitions – and maybe even celebrated the milestone. What would they make of House Uganda a decade later?Whether you look at the teens who were gaming the salvation system, the young Ugandans who wake to play against the odds, or the farcical confessions, the lesson is that sometimes, “A man's got to do what a man's got to do.” Salute!

Mr Rukwengye is the founder, Boundless Minds. [email protected]