Bite me

Different cultures around the world have standards for bringing up children. When one travels, not necessarily out of their country if they come from a country with more than 30 groups of peoples, you will have enough strange tales about the way people discipline their children.

 

Paternalistic societies like many in Uganda believe in bringing up no-nonsense kids. They are swatted away like annoying flies when they try to be children around their fathers. They are told to grow up even at a time when they do not know their age.

 

Last week I was at my in-laws’ place being all proper and smiley when one of the people there let out a yelp. She was holding my daughter and the little girl, grappling with teething issues sank her four front teeth in the fat shoulder in front of her. She was in for a surprise.

 

Fat Lady got her little hand and bit her! Yeah, she bit the hand of a little girl who does not know the meaning of cause and effect. This little girl, curious and bright was being punished for something she did not know she had done.

 

I have tried to observe the truth in the assertion that babies at any age will get the point when they are exposed to pain. So I have watched now and again as she heads for the TV trolley on her fours yet we have told her many times in stern tones that that is a no-go area. Surely, I have seen the signs of genius in this little girl and I do not believe she breaks the rules about the TV because she is dumb. She is curious. That’s how her kind survives.

 

So I told Fat Lady, all pretense of civility forgotten, to bite me instead. Yeah, take it out on someone your size…or rather, someone at least half your size. Take it out on someone who knows what you are going on about, not some innocent little girl trying to discover the mechanics of the world around her.

 

People like Ugandan writer Timothy Kalyegira pour scorn on Africans for being so subservient and such push-overs. Methinks, this has come about because there are people who turn children into mal-adjusted robots while they believe they are training them. They never change. They are taught to respond and not to initiate.

 

Yeah, bite me.

The real economy drivers

A bank teller in Uganda earns about Shs500, 000 (US$309.5) on average in a month. That is good money in some circles of the society. When one is employed by the bank, chances are that they shall be given some transport allowance and the assurance that when the Anopheles come a-sucking, they wont have to worry about dying of malaria like many villagers in the country side.

The neighbours of someone who works at the bank will whisper among themselves when he goes past that “there goes the banker.” His neighbours to refer to him as ‘Banker.’

It’s all good. He dresses the part, leaves in the morning and returns in the evening. He’s also upgraded to suit the role. He’s bought a car; the bank has given him a loan, which he will soon finish paying. He is a regular at Club 10 or in the vicinity of the Ntinda Mall because that is the place to be these days.

Do not stand too close to the road when it’s been raining. When he comes around with his Premio, he’ll not see you at the road side. Seeing you will mean letting you into the warmth and the cleanness of his car and therefore, dirtying it. He’s a busy person. That’s why he’ll splash dirty water on you – and not apologise. He won’t see you, you see.

The man sitting at the wheel of the ‘taxi’ that pulls up near you as you regain your position after Banker has left in a huff earns about Shs30, 000 daily. The owner of the taxi, Omugagga, as he is refered to by the driver and his sidekick with sweaty armpits, (the one who everyone call Conductor. They hate the name Wololo by which they are known in Busoga) will get about Shs30, 000 if he’s lucky everyday.

There are just too many problems on the road. There are traffic officers who are diligent followers of the law of “thou shall eat where thou hath wiped perspiration from thy brow.” They get on the road and target taxis and extract the odd Shs5000 or tenner and before the afternoon, they’ve got enough to pay off their supervisors and also enough to take the madam out for the evening. They then retire for the day.

Our driver will make up for that shortfall easily. Taxi operators are known for the annoying habit of pushing their vehicles to the nearest fuel station then putting in Shs5000, an amount that will take them for a very short distance.

But the point is not how much money they spend. It is about how much they take in. At the end of the day, there is about Shs100, 000. He will give his sidekick a twenty or there abouts, give Omugagga his 30K on the days when he doesn’t report traffic police interference or a dead day in the garage.

Dude’s making a killing. With Shs50, 000 per day, this guy can comfortably tell Sudhir Ruparellia to stuff his bank job.

By the way, is there a better song than Brooke Fraser’s Hymn?

You look like a monkey

Our newspapers are full of politics. There are many arguments on both sides of the fence about this issue. It has been screamed countless times at humbled writers and editors that we need a better news mix, that the way things are going, we are soon going to crush out of the industry.

 

Many years after newspapers came on the scene in Uganda, we are still letting political stories hog the front spaces. It has been argued that the readers want it so we have to give it to them. Yeah, give them what they want. Give them Besigye week in and week out. Give them Museveni’s 4^th term launch every week.

 

Maybe I am turning into some political robot too.

 

When someone excitedly announced that they were going to the Entebbe Wildlife Education Centre for Zakayo’s birthday today, my mind went blank for a moment. I was speechless.

 

The ape is celebrating his 44th and I am sure there’ll be droves going over to shove and squeeze against other strangers in order to be as near to the fence as possible.

 

Because there is the chance that the paparazzi will catch them in their photos and they might enjoy some celebrity in tomorrow’s front pages.

 

The crowd at UWEC today will not really be made up of animal lovers but probably, Zakayo won’t mind the extra cake and attention.

Train? What’s a train?

History has made an interesting return, in true history fashion. Remember those days we read about in history when the Maasai were not thrilled about a big metal snake being built in their land? I think we have the same problem in Kasese.

 

“We” in this case is really used liberally depending on what side of the issue you want to fall. If you think it’s a good thing that the system is miffed that railway sleepers have been disappearing in Kasese, then maybe you’ll pour out some liquor. But if you think this is another case of blind people trying to have sex with themselves, then you’ll probably throw up your hands exasperatedly. And then put then down again. Maybe, like me, you’ll laugh.

 

A few years ago, when the power load shedding was really bad, when we were in the dark every night, someone suggested we sneak up to the transformer one night and take it down. We’d hide it in the house, maybe under the bed. Practicalities like where would we take it after that or who would want to buy it anyway were just words.

 

Of course we all had a good laugh but last year someone must have decided to shift the plan into action. Guys actually stole a transformer and could have gotten away with it if it hadn’t fallen on the Land Rover pick-up truck they had. They disappeared but everyone saw the evidence for the next week parked at Kira Road police station and marveled at what a man will do when he’s called to step up to do what he’s got to do.

 

In 1898, the British dissected the land of the Maasai and built a railway up to Kasese. This was to make the job of ferrying our copper to the coast and to their home without so much trouble.  Of course, the history books have told the world that the coolies and the British had to fight off the savages by any means possible in order to bring civilization to the area but the Maasai know better. We know better.

 

We learnt that work stalled in this area for a long time because of the lions and the warriors, who always waited for the sleepers to be laid before they swooped down and carried them off to make better use of them.

 

Now the people in Kasese have employed these same stunts. And it has been said that the real masterminds are the security agencies, reaping where they … didn’t sow.

 

Sleepers are selling like crazy. Just one costs Shs300, 000. At the press briefing, there were six trucks with about 1, 200 sleepers. They are being sought for their pure steel.

 

I burst out laughing when the Railways Commandant answered to a question on the news last night that: “90 per cent of the line from Mityana to Mubende has been vandalized. There are whole sections where the railway has turned into a road for cars.” I mean, if the train is not coming around any time soon, what’s the point of keeping the rail when we can drive our cars in the space?

Carnage country

A few months ago, there could have been a nasty accident at Kisubi on Entebbe road. There could have been a small newspaper article or two about the death of a young man late in the evening one Wednesday and probably about that of two innocent by-standers who were waiting for a taxi, mauled, bashed into road-kill by a small Starlet whose driver was trying to save himself but failed.

 

This accident didn’t happen because, probably, it was not time yet. Or Andrew was sleeping on the job. (Tess must have given him a good talking-down-to on that one). It served to scare the driver into rethinking his lifestyle and all that.

 

There was really no reason for the cattle-truck driver to veer into my path. There was enough space on his side but it must have been one of those devilish moments when people cannot resist the lure of the dark side. I could have sworn I heard the evil laugh of the hands sitting high up on the railings as the old truck rushed past.

 

Accidents on Ugandan roads do not seem to be decreasing even though the police website says otherwise. According to Uganda’s Finest, during 2003 and 2004, the traffic department planned to cut casualties by 25 per cent. Note that this was just the plan. Nothing is said about what they actually achieved. The traffic department is fighting a difficult battle, just like the fire one is with their painful deficiency of fire trucks.

 

The numbers are scary when you think about them seriously. There is this thing about numbers and accidents that just turns off the human in us and i guess that’s why we do not seem to understand what the increases in the rates mean. 2, 000 deaths a year is way too high.

 

Accidents have been attributed to, among others, lack of road discipline, lack of knowledge about the traffic highway code and poor road design. The police also say they have a problem with logistics.

 

Between June and July this year, more than 25 people perished in road accidents. One of the most gory was in E-Town where an army officer, Col. Ezra Kyombo died. Someone rushing to the airport tried to overtake another car and instead, rammed headlong into the soldier’s car. 

 

It’s ironic. Americans are stressing over strange diseases which are brought on by what they eat and we are here dying like flies because we do not want to slow down on our roads. That even when we know how bad our roads are and how our cars are mostly in dangerous mechanical conditions.

 

Recently, $1 trillion was budgeted to give the Ugandan road sector a long overdue facelift but we shall find out at the end of the year if this is what we really needed.

 

And also: the song that must be on repeat inside Warren B’s head right now must be Too legit to Quit.

 

P.P.S: Is it only me who sees the electricity between Lois and Clark?