1949. The crack of dawn witnessed my nativity into the lovely arms of my mother, Francisca Nabulo. This began the remarkable sequence of Balibaseka Bukenya …
… There I was, puked out with vigor, and my umbilical cord gently separated from my mother with the help of a piece of dry reed of elephant grass. In the midst of blood dripping down her arms my mother carefully carried the slippery thing, trembling, with her lovely tiny fingers and wrapped a folded gomesi around it. She stealthily checked for my sex, and I must have heard her praising God that this time it wasn’t a girl …
No, that isn’t my own writing. God in his wisdom knew better than to give me any real talents. He knew that just by being born, I’d become an insufferable snob.
The excerpt above is from the autobiography of Ugandan Vice President Gilbert Balibaseka Bukenya. I bought the book, Through Intricate Corridors of Power, today at the Book Week Festival. An unnamed person from Fountain Publishers warned me about it, saying, “It’s an interesting story, but I can’t vouch for the writing. If you ignore the exaggeration and the portentousness of the author, you may like it.”
Okay, he didn’t say portentousness. He said something along the lines of VP … vanity … editing it was almost impossible mbu.
I’m done with the first six chapters and do not have the will to continue through to chapter seven. The title of chapter seven is “My Struggle to Prove Excellence Begins”, which I have chosen to rename “I Give Up the Will to Live.”
Anyhoo … Uganda Book Week Festival stuff and thingies. Here’s a couple of bleah pictures.