Benjamin Rukwengye
Back in high school, we often watched European football matches if they didn’t coincide with the serious things. But as with every school, we had a teacher with Lugezigezi (a wiseacre). He was a spoilsport.
On this Sunday night, he had somehow taken the decoder – making it impossible for us to watch the game. We were incensed. A couple of us decided to walk to his home and talk sense to him.
Never mind we were approaching the final bend towards Senior Six exams – so the priority should have been cramming Marie Antoinette and the French Revolution. There was also the risk that if this turned into an ugly scene, a couple of us would get suspended and the inconvenience of it would have been too much to deal with. In truth, it was just an hour and half. It was just a football match. It was just the entertainment and release that we needed from what was an exerting moment of our lives. But on the other side was a teacher who thrived on belligerence, loved the illogical and didn’t waste whatever chance he had to show that he was the law and the law was him. We knew all this when we decided to storm his home but we wanted to be heard.
I was at the front of the loud group, when he came out of the shadows just before we got to his house and called, “Rukwengye, what do you want?” I was startled. For a brief moment, I couldn’t speak. And then as I started, I realized that I was standing alone, facing him. The other boys had scattered into the hedges when they heard him and saw that he was carrying a stick.
I gathered enough courage to mumble, “These ones were saying that you should give us the decoder.” I realize how pathetic that answer sounds and I must say that moment isn’t one of my finest hours. But it goes worse when he asked, “Which ones? Where are they? Name them.” At this point, my co-conspirators ran off into the dark.
“Sir, we just want to watch the game. We have been reading all day.” I responded, ignoring his questions.
“They will not ask you about Henry and Van Nistelrooy in the exam. Go away!” He growled. I stormed off, realizing the futility of it but also, acknowledging my powerlessness in the moment.
You might have seen that a couple of young Ugandans are putting together a march to Parliament, to protest the gross corruption that is on the verge of grinding the country to a halt. Predictably, the Uganda Police – both a key enabler and victim of the corruption – has already issued warnings against the march.
What is the worst that could happen if instead, they sat with the conveners, mapped out what routes to use, agreed on the times and numbers, even gave them the police band for the razzmatazz, and escorted them to Parliament?
What is the worst that could happen if the Speaker, who for the last couple of months, has been battling accusations of corruption and abuse of power, announced that she would join them? Or wait for them on the stairs of the August House, to receive the petition, flanked by her members, who like her, stand accused.
Wouldn’t it be some sight and show of intent, if the President himself – long accused and blamed for the perpetuating corruption – endorsed the march or even showed up in solidarity? After all, it is he that has been making endless speeches for years now, about how he will crush the corrupt. The young people are on his side and are showing it.
The same for the Inspector General of Government, who has severally called on the citizens to lead the fight. Where are you, Madam Beti Kamya? Doesn’t the Chief Justice care that not a day goes by without a complaint about corruption in the judiciary? Why isn’t he robbing up, with the rest of his bench, to march with the young people. Religious leaders, where are you?
I say this because a few years later, a different cohort of students didn’t hide in the hedges or scatter when confronted with uncompromising leadership. They went on strike, destroyed property, the school was closed and embarked on a downhill trend that dented its fortunes. Listen, to those you lead, especially when they are unhappen.
Benjamin Rukwengye is the founder, Boundless Minds @Rukwengye
