Coming from a background where there is a lot of vitriol in the air, where you wouldn’t want to shout about your successes because the trolls are probably just itching to steal your blessings, this all seems new to me.
In the village, when you build a house or when your son gets lucky to get a big city job, it is probably wiser to shut the hell up about it since you don’t want to wake up in the middle of the night in a Udomo situation.
Now, I know someone will shake their head and wonder what kind of village this could be. Well, some people are lucky to come from communities that are supportive of their sons. They want them to win at all costs and they contribute whatever they can to that effort.
But hateration is real in many parts of Uganda. You cannot run away from that fact.
I have been shocked by the willingness of people here to share the most private details of their lives with strangers…on the bus or at the Post Office as they wait in line for their turn to be served.
This small town serenades its residents on Main Street every hour. If you look closely, you’ll notice the speakers on the pole – they are on all the poles on the street, belting out Say You/Say Me or some such sweet tune as you wait to cross to the other side. Today, I had to wait to cross as Nesta broke into I’ll play your favorite song/ dahhhlen’
This is not necessarily the final stage of the journey, I am not naive to believe it is. Already, I am hearing calls from hundreds of miles away asking me about my next move. They should have taken a good look at my background a bit more carefully, I say.
You don’t ask a staying guy what their next move is when they’ve just put down their hat. I am laughing a lot these days at the avalanche of job offers from back home. It is like they all suddenly came out of the woodwork on cue.
Until I pick up my hat, there’s no moving from here.