Not patriotic. Have an intense love-hate relationship with Uganda. Tend more towards hate actually. But it’s Independence Day, so what the hey.
Plus New Vision slipped a flag in the free copy of the paper I got yesterday so yadiyada O Uganda bladiblada.
And it’s my dad’s birthday, which is entirely more exciting that old liberation-from-tyranny thingy because there’s going to be chocolate cake and pizza and that’s what REALLY counts.
Will try to uphold the spirit of uhuru for the rest of the day, but it will be hard.
Went to seek inspiration from the Independence Monument outside the Sheraton Hotel. A small group of volunteers from Raleigh International were working furiously to clean it up ahead of a celebration there later in the day. Apparently no one in Government – and certainly no one in KCC – could be bothered to prepare the small square for a cocktail party scheduled for this evening.
Does anyone know where Gregory Maloba is today? He’s the artist from Kenya who sculpted the monument. I know a few pieces of his are in the Uganda Museum, but as expected, the Museum has no information on where he is now.
I used to have nightmares about the monument. The dream was always the same. The thingy (independence? the mother? colonialism? the free world? what the heck is it?!!) would dump its baby (Uganda? freedom? independence? again …?!!) and chase me down past the Post Office and through Kampala Road and then I’d end up in front of Lumumba Hall with no clothes on and then …
A few meters away from the Independence Monument, at the junction of the Sheraton, the Grand Imperial, Rwenzori House and the High Court, was this miserable-looking group of street cleaners. They woke up early this morning to clean the streets for the Independence celebrations and were tired and hungry and waiting for their pay.
They left after noon, dejected. No money for them today.
So much for uhuru.