Son of Peasant

“It is too good to be true. Behind its glittering mask [Uganda] wears a sinister aspect----a sense of indefinable oppression------a cut will not heal, a scratch festers.
“[A] garden of sunshine and deadly nightshade”
Winston Churchill
---My African Journey, 1907

“Hard though it is to imagine now, Uganda was becoming self-sufficient -----It aimed to be self-reliant, free of aid by 1974.
“It was not policies that messed up Africa. It was politics. A deadly combination of internal competition for power and outside interference wrecked Africa.
“In the end, the greatest impact of European imperialism in Africa may have been neither political nor economic. It may have been psychological: the destruction of African self-belief.”
Richard Dowden
---Africa
Altered States, Ordinary Miracles, 2009


Son of peasant rises to the top
Or rather,
Bulldozes to the top
Rails against
Predecessor sons of peasants:
You killed recklessly
You killers
You hoarded power
Ruled with iron fists
Not unlike colonial overlords
Brought shame and miseries
No alternatives but
Mighty Kalashnikovs
To rid off pests

Son of peasant becomes hero
Grateful peasant brethrens’ adoration
Can do no wrong
Has the Midas’ touch
Every touch turns to gold
Tries this
Tries that
On the fly

Son of peasant hooks up with the devils
The perennial world masters for five centuries
Becomes their errand boy
The more things change
The more they stay the same
Sings their songs
Promotes their agenda
Natives’ interests are secondary
Lulled by sweet-nothing slogans

Son of peasant is put for life
Propped up by the devils
In the name of stability
Families and hangers-on
Assured luxury and privilege
His fall is their fall
Must maintain the gravy-train at all costs
But history repeats itself
All will peter and wane eventually
But for now
The sycophantic fawning
The rage in town

Another son of peasant goes off
The big city beckons
Thanks to missionary schools
Earns degrees
Lands a juicy job
Relatives flock from the woodworks
Allure of modern gadgets also calls
All chasing the relative meager wage
The shortfall pegged by bribes
Shameless dipping quivering hands in public coffers

All in all
Where is the compass?
A ship needs a compass
Lest lost at sea

Observe:
In the lands of the rising sun
The yellow peoples
In the Yangtze
Can run astray
But remember the compass
Rectify and prosper

In this dance
Rituals give guidance
Where are the rituals for adulthood?
For coming of age
Where are the rituals for honor betrayed?
Where are the rituals for conflict resolutions?
Individually and collectively
Where? Where? Where?

There are the Christian rituals
Islamic rituals
Religious images
Designed to affect consciousness
Have they sunk?
Will they ever?
Meanwhile,
Mayhems
Lying
Corruptions
Double-talks
Cruelty
Intolerance
Greed rule

A people sans organic culture
Radar less
Floundering
Desperate
Easy prey
Manipulated
Cheated out of resources
The dredge of human kind
Living in the immediate
Ensuring perpetual bondage

That’s son of peasant’s legacy
The first generation of post-independence
Operators spanning forty plus years
What’s the prognosis for the next?
Grandsons of peasants
Sons of presidents
Doctors
Teachers
Lawyers
Generals
Can the papaya fall far from the tree?

Let It Go!

*What is past is over. It cannot be changed. We will inevitably receive the results of our past intentions and actions. Our freedom lies in how we respond to these results. Our response creates new karma, new patterns that will eventually bear fruit. By creating a healthier future we can redeem the past.
--Jack Kornfield
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A tumor had developed, so one of her wombs was cut out. The doctor said she could still “see the moon.” But as fate would have it, the whole system shut down prematurely—no moon, no nothing. How could it be? Did the doctor cut all her wombs? What man would want her now—a hag unable to bear fruits. That was not in the script. The pain, only a woman could understand, was so excruciating. She walked about like a zombie. The sight of pregnant women sent chills through her spine.

That was suffering added to pain. Sometimes pain hits like a tone of brick out of the blues. How we deal with it is another matter. Pain can be a given—coming from the vagaries of the human condition that, at times, seems to have no rhythm and rhyme on the surface.

Who has not been betrayed? Wicked calumnies have been floated about us at one time or another. At one time or another we lost this or that which was very dear to us. Do we cling to the pains of these events and play it over and over again like a broken record, while plotting revenge, lawsuits, suicide, or plain old feeling hopeless? That is undulterated suffering.

The problem with suffering is that it has mental and other physical consequences. When we nurture the pain—that is, suffer—we send all kinds of electrical signals and secrete chemicals that debilitate our well-being.

So, what to do? Just let go! But from experience, we know it is not that easy, let alone forgive and forget. How then do we do it? That is the million-dollar question. It is in the mind and its many states. Good luck in your quest. Sometimes one needs an expert for help. And, last but no least: time is of the essence.
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Soko’s Classic Movie Pick: The Page Turner: Melanie schemed and got her revenge. But at what cost? The movie only gives a glimpse on the destruction of her nemesis. What about her? We are not told.

The Follies of Integration

• Only the wild beasts can live without company of their own.
• A serpent once had an egg pure and white, while that of the bird was speckled and dirty. The bird gave up the speckled egg to lay on the white one. The egg cracked open and out came a snake. The bird was eaten by the snake it hatched.
----Movie RAN, a Japanese adaptation of Shakespeare's King Lear


Martin Luther King typified the Black American middle class. It marched and demanded to have what the white man had—the good life, meaning thinking white, going to white schools, living in white neighborhoods, dressing white, marrying white—basically, being white with the impossiblity of changing the various dark hues, big noses, kinky hair (which is straightened by several billion-dollar chemical industry), and the wailings in christian churches of refuge.

What the middle class fought for they they got. Thanks to affirmative action, the size of the Black middle class has grown. Various government set-asides has created some pseudo businessmen who are one government contract away from the poor house. Where are the artisans, the roofers, the dry goods mom-and-pop stores, and the carpenters who are the backbone any ‘hood? The most viable business now in the Black community is the hair salon and the barber shop. These are the only places where the so-called Black middle class come from suburbia to recycle the dollar with their own. Otherwise, their wages hardly spend a day in the community. If so, how can a people prosper from the bottom up?

That is the question Africa has to tackle if it is to go anywhere in its quest for development. If development merely means putting on a tie, driving sleek four-wheel vehicles, owning mansions, huge tracks of land, and otherwise mimicking wholesale the mindsets of the west, we will pay dearly in time. What is needed is building viable communities with sustainable values. The rest will come based on a strong foundation. The alternative is perpetual knee-jerk reactions and development by trial and errors on a journey to nowhere pleasant.
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Soko’s Classic Movie Pick: Thomas Sankara: The Upright Man. Sankara was a good man with good intentions for Burkina Faso and Africa. But the ends do not justify the means. Thus the imperialist agent in the guise of his friend, Blaise Compaore, had to liquidate him.

The Silent Mystery

A man thanks God that he was spared in an accident in which many were killed. An athlete makes a sign of the cross before lining up for a race in which she comes fifth at the other end. A flood washes out a village killing hundreds. Villagers, with their worldly goods on their heads, march hundreds of miles to escape warring warloads. The people of Haiti are asking: Why us? Then a deranged American christian televangelist says the Hatians have had a pack with the devil. Nothing needs commenting on the equally ignorant, crude and inelegant comment by Russ Limbaugh.

In all these, God, that we have been told is kind, loving, omnipotence and omniscience, is silent. In all these, he, she or it is a mystery—hidden and inaccessible. Yet others claim they communicate with him, her or it. At times he/she/it asks the “knights of the roundtable” to wage wars and kill others who have different takes and approaches.

Meanwhile we observe around us and see births, growths, declines, deaths. Seasons come, seasons go; nations rise, nations decline; mortals are lifted and brought down; some have smiles and peace that never fade; some have gloom and frowns that never go away. Do these give clues about reality? In all these he, she, it is silent. Yet there are some who are presumptous enough to claim they hear him, her or it. Are they for real or are they selling us a bill of goods (especially when they are so dogmatic about it)?

All along, the perpetual metaphysical questions persist: Who am I? Where do I come from? Where am I going? Having not explored these questions we flounder, bewildered by natural and man-made disasters, cruelty, greed, rejections, deprivations and similar ills. And when fortune comes in our favor, we cling to it and appropriate it as coming from our own prowess. Our heads swell until unseen forces sneak up on us. The fortunes are gone, and we flounder, bewildered.

Soko's Classic Movie Pick: Four Minutes. A reviting German movie that will keep you glued to the screen.

Who Is Mugisha Muntu?

We were driving down the street as he walked on the pavement down to the meeting venue. I waved and shouted his name. He turned towards us as others also waved. He looked surprised but sauntered on with his walkmate. That was as close as I came to Major General Mugisha Muntu, one of the leaders of the NRM military who faught and failed to wipe out the LRA, thus extending years of horrors.

In that first chance street encounter and seeing him operate through news reports, Mugisha Muntu is a telegenic, mild mannered and unconfrontational dude, who seems to have it together in his head. But is he what FDC needs against the wily owner of the NRM?

For Mr. Museveni politics is contact sports where you have to rub your opponent’s nose in the sand until he calls “Uncle.” What has Mugisha Muntu exhibited that will stand up against the NRM juggernaut? So far I have seen nothing. If he says he will bring more voters to the FDC fold, why can’t he do it now in his role as national party organizer? What is so special about him that will send many clamoring to FDC once he becomes the flag bearer? His handlers claim he will work with the NRM. What does that mean? Was his visit to state house such an indication?

If Ugandans have their marbles together, at this time Dr. Besigye is the best bet against Museveni. When it wasn’t Kosher and many would have quaked in their boots, Besigye stood up against the increasingly autocratic Museveni. So what if it’s personal as some detractors claim? In the history of Uganda he is already a giant whatever the outcome of 2011. He is described as loud and confrontational. But who needs a sissy against Museveni? As long as he still has fire in his belly, can organize while holding the party together, the man can run as long as he wishes. Party leadership is not country leadership. In the latter, term limit is imperative as antidote against autocracy.

Is It So?

*In Greek mythology the gods quickly punished those mortals who dared to ascend to Mt Olympus and taste devine power. However, if you had the courage to cross to their realm, you were rewarded handsomely. The likes of Hercules and Pysche did just that.
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To the light-weight simpletons that are some of Uganda’s journalists all is now well with the NRM in the Acoli subregion now that the LRA has self-destructed and relative peace has come to the region. This is either a form of denial or a calculated effort to promote the NRM. It is a cynical insult to the intelligence of the people.

That peace now reigns in the region is a welcome respite from the twenty or so years of hell. The people clearly remember how the owner of the NRM, by his own account, was dragged screaming to the negotiation table. The people surely remember the series of altimatum that dogged the NRM in its protracted wish to finish off the LRA. Moreover the hangovers from that hell do not suddenly disappear with a magic wand overnight. There are the traumatic memories of being forced into concentration camps. There are the memories of civilian abuses by the NRM military. Then there is the continued choking abject poverty. The NRM will have to be held accountable for the twenty years plus of deliberate, intentional and cavalier neglect.

In addition, while it has been watered down by shameless materialistic desires as well as basic unadorned survival instincts untamed by cultural heritage, there is still a strong streak of individualism that shuns authoritarian excesses. A rwot ki i oda (I am chief in my own house) is still the prevailing operative psyche for some. And so the modus operandi of the NRM go against the grain of many who are true to their egalitarian heritage. However, politically, this may only affect the national flag bearer. Whether it plays out into the localized parliamentarian polls remains to be seen as such factors as personality and clan dynamics may outweigh such nebulous concepts as freedom and fair play. The NRM might also pump in a few token goodies to enhance the NRM candidates’ chances to the refrain that “there is more where that came from.” Other largesse from so-called development partners will also help paint the NRM candidates beautiful prospective suitors. Even so, however, the dice is still loaded in favor of the opposition. The region is theirs to lose. The opposition just needs to play it steady, smart and hold the NRM to its dismal records.

Soko’s movie classic: Adanggaman.

The Secret of the HoP

To demonstrate or not to demonstrate, that is the question the Uganda opposition might have been wrestling with and scratching their heads over the week-end. The usual strategy behind demonstrating in a dictator’s fiefdom is to precipitate discontent locally and sympathy internationally as the state coercive forces are sure to break some limbs or even kill. So, what does it mean when you threaten a demonstration and then back down? Do you lose face (if there is any such a thing in the African context)? Will you ever be taken seriously?

One of the most potent tool for African dictators is the use of unabashed force against their own people. Museveni calls it one of the cooking stones that has helped sustain the NRM (a.k.a himself) in power uninterrrupted for this long. An overwhelming show of force, rather than alienating, in fact garners support and endears the dictator to the uninformed masses who are basically peasants in their outlooks even if they have Phds after their names. It would therefore seem that if you get physically abused in public by the power that be, you lower your esteem, credibility and prospect in the eyes of the peasantry. So, it is likely that the opposition made a correct calculated call to call off the demonstration. Now, what next?

The opposition needs to apply strategic thinking ahead of the obsessed Uganda’s premier political strategist of all times. The secret of the Hop may provide a model of how to operate smartly against the entrenched system. The Hop is a movie depicting a son, Justin, whose father was deported back to Africa. Justin escapes the snare of the police and immigration and meets a former anarchist with whom he journeys through very facinating events.

Clue: How does a pigmy overpower the untamable African elephant? Check out the Hop.

Crossing the Rubicon Revisited

In the past we talked about Julius Caesar’s fateful crossing of the River Rubicon as the seminal act of “no-going back” that sealed the fate of Rome. Another fascinating character is said to have burned a bridge after his forces crossed a river.

In the African context what are the wider implications (beyond the predicted increased harassments of Africans at airports) in the recent young Mutallab’s misadventure in the skies? Is this a one-time shot, an aberration? In the collective psyche of the world the African is seen as a cowardly creature who would do anything to stay alive no matter what. Thus it was easy to bundle him up and sell him into bondage where he suffered quietly. To this day, on the continent, he continues to live in deprivations and squalor in spite of abundance of land and the wealth in it.

When the elder Mutallab went to the US embassy and the CIA about his radicalized son, they obviously did not take him seriously. Would you? Just picture what went through the minds of the sleuths in the air-conditioned aboard of the embassy: You are kidding us; an African to be a danger to us, the masters of the known world? The rest is history, a history which would have been devastating to hundreds of families and a shocker to the world.

But for his bumbling bungling (another African trait), Mutallab was willing to die for a cause—a feat few Africans would dare—,whatever the morality and the criminality entailed from others’ side of the divide. Would he become a legend among the few Africans who took violence to a new level—Chaka Zulu, Museveni, Mugabe, et al.? The rest of us would rather live in misery than lose a limb. To our chagrin, our oppressors know this and exploit it to scare the jibbers out of us just like the KKK used white sheets to terrify the Africans in America.

It is not inconceivable that, as a race, the Africans will become extinct in the not-too-distant future. Natural selection says it. What of famine, HIV-Aids, psychological traumas, climate change and all the other ills that disproportionately haunt Africa? Wailing in the name of Jesus all night long in make-shift churches will not turn the tides and deliver the goods. We need to cross the mind Rubicon because that is where God is.