Ugandan slumber

In Uganda, we think we have a great life. Because the world doesn’t seem to make so many demands on us. We are not slave-driven to be perfect and so we think the good life is what we have – rolling in the good time.

The British, who came here in the 1880s seem to have got our character perfectly. They knew that to get their way, all they had to do was make believe that they thought like our fore fathers. Only then did the floodgates of stupidity open.

Even today, there are those among us who ask what the Omukama Kabalega was on about, being such a sour puss. Why did he have to be a party spoiler all the time, we ask ourselves, when all he had to do was bend over and be a nice boy, like others did.

So we hanker after the lights and the music. We put all the symbols of depravity and laziness up their on our mantel so we can look on our golden calves in peace.

But we have conveniently forgotten about the pesky kid in front, who keeps on jumping up saying, “teacher me!”

That kid is the statistics that keep on coming out of the different think tanks that say we are such wastes of space. We are so lazy, we do not want to get off our arse and pick what we want off the table. Other communities do just that and they progress.

So we’ll continue looking on as the Kenyans from across the border stream in and, in their gang-ho disposition, take everything that’s rightfully ours. After all, we have shown we do not want it.

P.S: That’s me trying to psych myself up for an assignment I am not so enthusiastic about.

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About Steven

It wasn't me; arrest the voices. It was the voices in my head. Sike! I am Ugandan first. I care for development in my country. I am a curious observer second and I care to know what you think.
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