Rupiah Banda, you do not let power slip that easily!

Hi Rupiah, I am still in shock. How could you let that happen? How on earth, could you, with all the benefits of incumbency let the presidency slip from you to that age-mate of yours and perennial loser Michael Sata?

I must say you have done this continent a disservice. How can you have the central bank, the military, kiboko squads and national media at your disposal and still fail to comfortably win an election? When news of your imminent defeat began trickling in, we congregated as usual at our favourite joint in Kireka and wondered aloud what could have gotten into that head of yours.

You might not know it, but one of Kireka’s neighbour villages is called Banda. So, you can imagine how elated we were three years ago when you ascended the Zambian throne. We strongly identified with your success, but see what you have done to us now.

Just three years in power, with all the perks and means at your beck and call, you let a populist politician beat you to the bread. What script were you following?

At our joint, most of the guys wondered if you had ever heard of something called “logistics”. How rich are Zambians that no amount of sugar, soap or bread could make them see that you were the sole visionary they needed? In these hard times, why didn’t you raid the central bank and ensure everyone from Mpulungu in the north to Livingstone in the south had their fair share of cooking oil, T-shirts and salt?

Alfredo, a drink-mate here, in fact suggested that you be checked into a mental facility. “This guy is not serious,” fumed Alfredo. “How do you be president for only three years and let the prize go? How will he handle life minus the sirens, bodyguards and free access to state coffers? Look at Putin and how he is dying to make a comeback. Didn’t Binaisa say entebbe ewoma?”

Rupiah, what could have been the problem? If that Sata man looked difficult, could you not have planted a young woman to claim he raped her? Or better still, I know Zambia has no history of rebellions, but who says you could not link him to a shadowy rebel group somewhere in Solwezi on the border with Angola? After all, Angola is the bed of rebellions.

Also how genuine were the guys you appointed to count the votes? Did you have a private chat just to let them know how important this election was to you? But even then, could you not mobilise some stick-wielding militia to pump sense into these good-for-nothing Zambians just in case Plan A was failing?

Now see what misery you have invited for yourself. You are only 74 and jobless! In Africa, politics begins at 70. So, you let a promising career go to waste only three years into the job. What will you tell your grandchildren and clan that hoped to ride on your back to make their own fortunes? That you let victory slip from the jaws of defeat? I am sure they will never forgive you.

In our kafunda, we listened as you made that exit speech. That was total baloney. Mbu “the people of Zambia have spoken and we must listen”. Who is “people”? Do these people have a vision? Do these people know how you struggled to take over from Levy Mwanawasa after his death? We, in Kireka, are very disappointed with you for letting “people” deny you a birth right.

Nyombi is right; details of oil deals not for every Ugandan

Dear Attorney General Peter Nyombi, I have learnt with great trepidation about attempts by MPs to compel you to reveal details of the agreements our venerable government entered into with a host of oil companies.

According to these MPs, these deals have been “shrouded in secrecy and uncertainty” that they are not sure if as a country, we got the best cut. Now, I hear some of them have been going around collecting signatures to compel Parliament to come out of recess and force you to “spill the beans”.

I don’t know what planet these MPs pushing you come from. How can they recall their colleagues when they have just taken a much-deserved break? Imagine since May when MPs were sworn in, they have been busy debating for the good of this country.

Have they seen how committed the likes of Muhammed Nsereko and Cerinah Nebanda have been? Throwing tantrums, swearing and giving saucy TV bites even on topics they have no clue about? After such work, how do the likes of Abdu Katuntu, Theodore Ssekikubo and Wilfred Niwagaba expect people who probably are now in Zanzibar or such islands to cut their break just to come and talk oil?

But even more importantly, why do these MPs think our government does not have us, Ugandans, at heart? We, the citizens, have no problem with the government (by the way who is the government?) that we have just massively voted back into power keeping a few secrets from us.

Don’t we all have our small secrets that even our spouses do not know about? So, what is the problem if some guy keeps a few documents under key-and-lock in our interest? These MPs forget that oil is not like matooke or sugar that is traded over the counter. Oil is a unique product. It takes years of study to even find out that you have it. Look at our case, it took 25 years of visionary leadership to make the find. Now that visionaries have discovered their oil, everyone wants to join the party, NO!

Let the MPs get a bottle of water, take a few sips and cool down. The government that painstakingly spent years to find the oil will do everything in the country’s interests. And there is a precedent to this.

Look at how liberalising the economy has moved the country forward. Decrepit cooperatives were replaced with flourishing SACCOs, where stood run-down regional referral hospitals are now efficient health centre IVs, education is no longer an exclusive service, millions are drinking deep from the UPE spring of knowledge.

With such a colourful record of public-interest driven initiatives, what makes MPs think the government can change character just because it is oil involved?

Also, Mr Nyombi, I heard MPs grumble that you were paying some Bazungu lawyers Shs11b to represent us in a case in London where we could lose trillions if we take matters lightly. When they looked at your budget, they were shocked to learn that you needed a few millions to buy Law dictionaries. I am told they were wondering how you could be AG when you lack basics like a law dictionary. These MPs should know that you were a First Year undergraduate decades ago. What would you be doing still keeping a law dictionary?

But here is my honest advice. Should push come to shove and you must make public the agreements, just write them in Latin and drop them in the MPs’ pigeon holes. Knowing our MPs, they will endorse them without a second look.

Kireka-based government writes to teachers

Dear our beloved teachers, we have learnt with great concern your request for a 100 per cent pay raise of your salaries. We have heard your lamentations about the skyrocketing prices of basic commodities and how the Shs200,000 you receive every month is now a drop in the ocean. Some of you have pointed out that sugar, for example, has risen to Shs8,000 a kilogramme where just two months ago it cost Shs2,500.

Some of you have cried out loud that you cannot afford monthly rent for those shacks you call home while for some, you find it ridiculous that as you teach other people’s children, your own are at home, stuck because you cannot raise fees for them.

As government based in Kireka, we want to assure you that your cry has been heard—and like it was in the Old Testament—when God heard the Jews’ cry, you will be attended to. But like it took the Jews close to 40 years to gain deliverance, you should know that you are asking for too much, considering that our government has only done 25 years now. Imagine, God, with the ability to do anything, took a whole 40 years to get these guys to the Promised Land, what about us mortals?

The government has also heard that some of you are wondering why Very Important People like our Honourable Members of Parliament are earning 100 times more than you do. Let’s set this on record. MPs are very unique people. Without them, this country can grind to a halt. They are in charge of producing very important documents called laws. As you might know, laws are the fulcrum on which a country runs. Without laws, this country would be a jungle.

Do you know what happened to a country called Somalia? They didn’t have laws and now see what has become of them! Do you want us to become another Somalia? Therefore, spare the MPs from your discussions. And this also applies to our Resident District Commissioners. Some of you wonder why people without A-level qualification should be paid better than teachers—in fact 10 times what you earn.

Don’t be mistaken. These RDCs also don’t like earning this much but it’s because of the nature of their work. Have you teachers stopped to wonder how taxing it can be for one to officiate at the opening of a workshop at 8am, hop into a double cabin pick-up at 9am to visit a health centre under construction and at midday attend a working lunch at a hotel in town? This is the kind of schedule an RDC has, no wonder we have noted most are suffering from ulcers. Their work is too demanding! As government, we are thinking of offering them compulsory membership to health clubs.

Now back to your concerns. There was this joke that you should be exempted from Pay As You Earn tax. Whoever placed this in your request should be abusing drugs. Look, every morning you ride your bicycles on government roads, when your children fall sick you rush them to government health centre IVs and we have ensured that you can sleep in your shacks without fear of external interruptions. How do you think the government will maintain all these services if we can’t tax you?

Like we have said, we shall attend to you but let us finish the more pressing things first. Let’s buy some more jets, have our ministry fleets increased, and ensure all money for workshops has been mobilised. And just a reminder, should you abscond from work, we shall get the many unemployed graduates (one of our achievements) and employ them in your place.

Yours,

Kireka Government

Nagenda pours heart out to Kireka-based journalist

Posted  Sunday, September 18  2011 at  00:00

Dear reader, following the chart-busting interview that senior presidential adviser John Nagenda had with Sunday Monitor a fortnight ago, there has been massive demand for a follow-up interview. A Kireka-based journalist called Alfredo did just that and below are excerpts:
Alfredo: Mzee Nagenda, sorry about that...
Nagenda: About what?
Alfredo: About Tamale Mirundi. He says you only pick your monthly cheque for no work.
Nagenda: And what work does Tamale do? Can insulting people and being short of first-class brains be called work?
Alfredo: At least he occasionally takes on Mengo when they become a problem to the government...
Nagenda (interrupts): Young man, have you read Shakespeare’s King Lear?
Alfredo: No sir.
Nagenda: I advise you to read it. There is a character called the Fool. That is Tamale Mirundi for you.
Alfredo: So, back to the issue, is it true that you never see the President even when you are a senior adviser?
Nagenda: Who says advice can only be taken physically? I write emails to the President, at times I SMS him. Once in a while we have done Skype. So, when poor Tamale doesn’t see me at State House, he thinks I am not in touch with the President.
Alfredo: So, what was the last piece of advice you gave the President?
Nagenda (scratches his gray beard): Uhmm let me see. Was that during the 1996 campaigns? I was instrumental in designing the famous Luweero skulls campaign. Did you see how we kicked Kawanga Ssemogerere in the ****? Boy, that was some campaign!
Alfredo: That was in 1996 boss. This is 2011.
Nagenda: Yes, but you must look at this regime as an aggregate. What we did in 1996 bears a lot on what happened in 2011 and might bear a great deal on what happens in 2021.
Alfredo: I am not sure I get that but let’s proceed, back to Tamale Mirundi. The fellow says you were appointed as presidential adviser to have access to fees for your children.
Nagenda: I usually hold my peace when it comes to commenting about people like Tamale. He is part of the group I once labelled the “unwashed of Katanga”. But let me tell you a story. Once, walking down the streets of Kampala, I met a fellow; shirt stained, collar shrivelled, reeking of enguli. The fellow walked to me, pleading: “Nagenda, you of the Queen’s English, please give me some coins. My son is at Makerere University and he needs fees. I know you pick a hefty cheque at State House, you can be of help.” Do you know who that was?
Alfredo: No. But it sounds like another wretched of the earth.
Nagenda: Yes, and that was Tamale Mirundi.
Alfredo: What? This man who ridicules you now took money from you for his son’s fees? Did he pay back?
Nagenda: Do you expect a muyaaye to pay his debts?
Alfredo: That is a new one. Tamale is a muyaaye?
Nagenda: Yes, I find trouble getting an English equivalent, but call him a Loiterer. Some people think he is a chief muyaaye; a Ssabayaaye!
Alfredo (smiling): My editor will love this. Nagenda labels Tamale Ssabayaaye!
Nagenda: And remind your editor I need my cut from the circulation sales (laughs).
Alfredo: What do you think the President makes of these public spats of his handlers?
Nagenda: Have you read Nikolai Gogol’s masterpiece The Government Inspector?
Alfredo: No sir. Literature is not a must for journalism students anymore. I have read a few magazines.
Nagenda: In that play, a young man got stranded in a remote Russian town. Every official mistook him for a senior government operative from the capital. He began seeing each official privately. Besides bribing him, they took turns character assassinating each other. In the end, he turned out a fraud...
Alfredo: What is the moral of the story?
Nagenda: Go figure it out, young man
dwanyama@ug.nationmedia.com

Fr. Lokodo is right; pole dancing bad for our eyes

Dear Fr. Simon Lokodo, I greet you in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. As a Catholic who attended a few seminaries before I discovered my calling elsewhere, your likes just leave me awed.
That you were able to beat those tight seminary curfews, spend decades imbibing Theology and Philosophy manuals before sacrificing the world’s pleasures by embracing celibacy—leaves me agape. You must be made of unique material.
So, when I learnt the other day that you were having sleepless nights I was disturbed. Apparently, a nightclub in this city has begun something called pole dancing night and this has disorganised you. My sources tell me, like Lady Macbeth, you spend the nights roaming your bedroom, wondering how on earth anyone would design such “sin” disguised as entertainment.
My sources also tell me it is this frustration that compelled you to write an opinion in this newspaper, where you not only labelled pole dancing “the most evil act of our contemporary times” but also wondered about those “willing to be associated with such humiliation of human dignity”.
I raised your concerns at our pub in Kireka. I agreed with you that surely, pole dancing is the worst thing to have ever hit us in this century. The sight of young ladies, nearly naked, rubbing their bodies on poles and a mass of onlookers cheering them is the zenith of moral decadence.
But I have this difficult friend called Alfredo. Midway my submission, he interrupted rudely. “How does pole dancing compare to theft of billions meant for treatment of people living with HIV or children dying of malaria?”
I told Alfredo to shut up. Theft of money for drugs cannot be as sinful as pole dancing, I asserted. I told Alfredo that pole dancing is very corrosive. It could affect the sight of those watching and who wants a country of visually-challenged people?
Just as I was delving into further disadvantages of pole dancing, Alfredo raised his voice above the music. “And what about those risking the future of entire generations by sacrificing important ecosystems like Mabira Forest?”
Again, I had to restrain Alfredo. I reminded him that a forest can be replanted but destroyed morals may never be reconstructed. The two, I told him, are leagues apart. I assured Alfredo that pole dancing could pose serious risks to our men. Just imagine what goes in the minds of those looking at young naked women rubbing poles…what are they capable of doing thereafter?

As I concluded this defence, another character in the kafunda retorted. “Is this another Nsaba Buturo?” I quickly informed the drunk that whereas you had replaced Nsaba Buturo as Ethics Minister, your orientation was different. You are schooled in the arts of integrity and had helped shepherd men away from sin.
That is when Alfredo jumped in again. He reminded me that you had recently been defrocked by the Pope because you went against the Church rules and joined politics. Alfredo argued that these girls who are willing to expose their nudity for a coin are rebels against societal norms—and that they are no different from you who rebelled against the church.
“And anyway, at least they are not using pens and vouchers to falsify accountability in order to steal,” he said, beer foaming at his mouth.
Alfredo also wondered whether those who attend the shows are conscripted and why you are bothered if they are not complaining. Like I have always wanted to do, I nearly slapped him.

Let's forget Mabira, time to sip coffe

Sunday, August 21  2011

Dear Ms Flavia Nabugere Munaaba. Let me begin by congratulating you for that spirited fight you put up in defence of your job when MPs wanted to deny you your fair share of the national cake. It is a pity that your colleagues like John Kakooza and Saleh Kamba were not as lucky. And what do these MPs have about women from your region; do you remember what they did to Ms Kisila Mbeiza?

By the way it is good to see that you are settling in well in your job as State Minister for Environment. There was this small matter of Mabira Forest the other day. I saw the newspapers scream about how you abandoned journalists in the middle of the forest after failing to find the degraded sections, which the President intends to give away to a sugar producing firm to grow sugarcanes.

In the story, they alleged that after close to two hours of touring the forest and trying against all odds to find bare patches of land, you quietly sneaked from the entourage and went to sip hot coffee at the nearby Colline Hotel in Mukono town—probably as you flipped through your notes and ministry policies.

Resultantly, you have been the talk of the town. Numerous callers into radio shows think you could do well in our growing stand-up comedy industry while some suggest that given the lightning manner in which you abandoned the journalists,you could be the gem this country is looking for after Inzikuru hit her peak.

In our kafunda the other night, Alfredo, one of my drink-mates, after a heavy dose of the bitter, could not trace his bottle. He then asked, “Who is doing a Munaaba on me?” Everyone burst out laughing except me.

Yes, I do not understand why there is a hullabaloo over this small matter. First, it is on record that you are no environmentalist. All your career life has been spent administering justice. Your lingua is littered with phrases like prima facie, sub judice, bail and effragranta dericto (Whatever this means ask Lord Mayor Lukwago).

With such serious concerns in life, how does one expect you to differentiate between a forest, a thicket or a bush? I am sure the little time you spent with the journalists in Mabira you were walking on bare ground. Or do these good-for-nothing journalists want us to believe that you did a Harry Potter stunt floating in the air because there was no bare ground?

I am confident that this is the bare ground you alluded to later when you were found at the hotel with your coffee steaming. Others may call it a forest track but truth remains, it is bare. This episode reminds me of a sister of yours.
Some years back, her ministry took billions of shillings to construct valley dams. When a group of nosy MPs visited the north eastern region where these dams were meant to stand, not even those with refractive lenses could see them.
Your no-nonsense sister told them off, saying those who could not see the dams were actually sinners. Why am I convinced that those unable to see degraded land in Mabira could be guilty of similar transgressions?

Also, a Kirekamate was wondering, what if your advance team had mowed a few trees before your team arrived, would that have made your job easier? It is something you can consider in future. Your coffee must be cooling, let me end here.