I didn’t get the memo.
You know, the one everyone else seems to have that directs all Ugandans to focus on ‘tribe above all else.’ The one that says sectarian politics and ethnic divisions are the issue of the day. The one that orders us to forget pressing socio-economic concerns and instead split hairs over ancestry and whose zombies are buried on what land.
I’ve been stewing over this for a while. Wondering how to respond. Wondering whether to respond.
If I say something am I contributing to the problem? If I say nothing am I hiding my head in the sand?
This morning a few colleagues and I discussed this and what our response as the media should be.
Let me rephrase that. A few colleagues heard me rant about my inadequacy in contributing to this debate and my confusion in understanding whether it was a debate worth my time. In my confusion, I allowed them a pitifully small amount of time to respond.
I’ll try to explain this (or confuse myself further).
I have said on this blog before that I have never identified myself with my tribe. I honor my ancestry and the depth of my culture awes me. But that I am a Mukiga and not a Kakwa means nothing to me at all.
There is a generation of Ugandans, my generation, that were brought up to understand our language and to respect our cultures. However this generation was told, and rightly so, that there was inherently no different between us and anyone else. We were equal. If we gave respect to ‘the other,’ we got respect. If we loved ‘the other,’ we were loved back.
This generation was told that we could live anywhere. That we could climb any mountain and soar the skies. Uganda, we were told, was ours. This land, we were told, was our joint inheritance. We were Ugandan. I am you, you are me; we are us.
This generation, my generation, is the Museveni Generation. We never really knew any other President. We were too young to understand Obote and the stories of Idi Amin, Binaisa, Lule, Tito Okello, Kabaka Mutesa, the colonialists … they were just that: stories. Until we came to our own, we only knew the ideology that Museveni peddled to us. He said we were the new nationalists. We – all of us irrespective of tribe – we were the new Uganda.
Now I am confused.
The first time I was made aware of my tribe was in 2000 when I applied for a job at a small advertising agency. I remember it like it was yesterday. I was invited in for an interview at the agency’s office at the Uganda Manufacturers’ Association showground. I had dressed to impress. I had practiced in front of a mirror. I was confident and ready.
Mr. Potential Boss went through the usual formalities. He asked me about my education and my job experience. He asked for my non-existent portfolio. Then we got to the serious questions.
“Mmm … Tumwijuke … What tribe is that?”
“Pardon me?” I asked.
“Munyankole, Mukiga, what?”
I was puzzled. “I am sorry sir, what does my tribe have to do with anything?”
He laughed in that semi-mocking, semi-sarcastic way. “Tumwijuke, you know what I mean. I don’t like hiring Baganda girls. They are lazy. Bakiga girls are hardworking. They are like Itesots. Me, I am a Muganda, but I would never hire anyone from my tribe. I understand these things.”
Mr. Potential Boss called me a day later to tell me the job was mine for the taking. I said a rude word (in my head) and told him to sod off (in my head). I said thank you sir and that was the last time I heard from him.
I am not sure what to do when confronted with tribal politics because I am part of that generation that believed Mr. Museveni when he said we would redefine what being a Ugandan meant. He said we would progress on individual merit. We would be elected to office on individual merit. We would own land on individual merit. We would live, love and die on individual merit.
Now the very Mr. Museveni we believed wrote:
We, the NRM members, being nationalists and pan-Africanists, cannot undermine our vision and programme by associating ourselves with the vulgarized versions of ‘national integration.’ Genuine national integration must include scrupulous respect of everybody’s rights to the land of their heritage, politics, and culture …
… The vulgarized version of integration goes like this: “we are Ugandans and we all have equal inherent rights in all parts of Uganda”-rights to property or political rights such as competing for political offices. That is correct as long as you ensure that in exercise of those inherent rights, you do not fundamentally damage the legitimate inherent rights of others- especially of those indigenous to the area. If that happens, the Central Government must come in to regulate the enjoyment of the inherent rights of the respective groups so that a disequilibrium does not develop or become entrenched …
… Having thought about all this for a long time, I am proposing the following principles to be part of the solutions:
- Ring-fencing the LC V positions in the whole of Bunyoro region for the indigenous people; and also ring-fencing the sub-county leadership except for the sub-counties around the Kisiita and Luteete areas.
- Ring-fencing the positions of Members of Parliament in the whole of Bunyoro region for the indigenous people, except for the special constituencies created around Lutete and Kisiita resettlement schemes. Number 1 and 2 will be in the spirit of articles 9 and 10 of the 1995 Constitution of Uganda. They were also envisaged by Article 32 of the Constitution of Uganda, which talks about affirmative action in favour of marginalized groups by reason of history or otherwise, for the purpose of redressing imbalances that exist against them.
Etc. (Full letter as published by The Daily Monitor is available here.)
As one of the Museveni Generation, I am lost.
As a journalist, I am in a quandary.
The media, following Mr. Museveni’s letter, have done little to turn us back to. The media are caught in reporting the reactions to the letter. One day, it’s accusations of marginalisation from the Bafuruki. The next, is a rebuttal from the Banyoro. Then the Bakiga claim they are being hounded out of land that is now their legal property. Then the Banyoro demand what is theirs, accusing the Bakiga of theft. The Alur ask, “What about us?” The Bagungu demand a greater say in the oil deals. And on and on and on.
The opinion pages are no better. One links tribalism to power. The next to money. Another wants us to embrace tribal politics because it is a part of who we are as Ugandans.
Radio talk show debates are helping. Despite our strong anti-sectarianism law, show guests are allowed to advocate tribalism. They say it is not only the Banyoro who have suffered. Their tribes are also marginalized and their people are dying. Government isn’t listening to them enough and if Museveni wants to protect the Banyoro, he should do so to all the tribes with the loudest voices.
I suppose that for we journalists in Uganda, this is the test of our professionalism.
How do we handle such a potentially explosive issue? Are we merely getting caught up in the madness? Is our editorial policy reflective of something greater? Do we aspire to a nation that is more than the petty politicking of the time? Are we setting the agenda or are we merely pawns in the game?
I aspire to something greater. I aspire to being the journalist that helps to create some sanity. One who considers the Bunyoro question, not as an isolated incident involving Museveni’s letter or the demons of our colonial past, but as a whole. One who sees this phase as symptomatic of a greater problem: that my Uganda is increasingly fragmented and now, more than ever, there is a need, through my work, to point us back to the issues that unite us. The real issues. Need, lack, plenty, want, distribution, resources, accountability, spirituality, citizenship, education, care, good governance, you are me, I am you, we are us.
I aspire to it, but I don’t know whether to start or when to start.
You see I didn’t get the memo …
