I love, it’s what I do best, It’s what I know most.
I deeply fall in love, it doesn’t blind me though, it opens my eyes, my heart, my soul.
I have one Country, it’s the only Country I’ve ever truly and deeply known. It’s a peaceful and welcoming.
It’s beautiful as the Venus illumination on an early morning, it doesn’t need make up. Sometimes it does need a little make up though, patches here for every pothole there.
My country is fertile, very fertile like the Kiga that occupy it. Every seed sowed anywhere will grow with or without attention. Every seed will fully grow apart from the Mustard seed which however much watered they say it have, withered. And needs replanting. The Hoes have been dished out, *Nkeija na Kaguta* for the re-sowing, I don’t know if it’s the case of the farmer or the farm.
Uganda has every odd in it’s favor, fertile soils, the perfect climate, natural resources, name it. But yet never wins the Lottery. You’d think It had the vision needed, but!
I’m in love with Uganda, madly in love. I dream about the good things I’d do to it, If I could. I keep it clean, no trespass, no litter.
I pray for it, I pray for its future, for its past. I know prayer alone isn’t enough, if only I could meditate on its behalf. It needs all the help because, it’s siring more and more and it’s not earning enough. It’s poor.
It’s poor. I don’t know poor because I haven’t been poor and most who read this aren’t and maybe haven’t been either. But Uganda is poor, people still burn kerosene lamps and have neither water to drink or toilets to ‘undrink’ whatever they can’t even afford to drink. Think about that. People still have jiggers, let alone monster bed bugs.
Truth be told, Uganda should be far in development. Because Uganda is unique, it’s the metropolis of the region, the meet-point of all nationalities and the fusion of many tribes. And the coexistence is out of this world.
Uganda should be thrice richer than it is to the least. But Uganda isn’t. The hope that had come with the 1986 revolution didn’t quite sprout just like the mustard seed didn’t. The revolutionaries became leeches and their tentacles stretched from Uganda’s veins to the whole region.
The best thing to have ever come to Uganda became a curse, some comrades died mysteriously, nearly all comrades actually. Uganda lost it’s dedicated sons who had shed a lot of sweat and blood. Just like it lost the service and the ideas they would have provided.
Uganda is ripe for another revolution because
Argggghhhhhh I was writing this 4 days ago, but it no longer means a thing. I don’t see why I should continue with this, I feel cheated, violated.
My heart bleeds for real. I feel like I’ve lost the love of my life.
I keep on wondering how a man can lose his soul, how a man can pretend to be holy and yet be the foothold of evil. How a man can have a household of ‘worshipers’ but still be the cornerstone of evil.
WELL MORTALITY IS THE SWEETEST EQUALIZER. VALAR MORGHULIS