ARIAKA

Stoct taking
After stock taking, it dawned on Kampalans that the time was now to right a wrong of so many decades.  The original Nakivubo war memorial stadium is now taking shape.  With the parking yard burnt down, now is the time to take on the mighty Owino market.  Burn it down so that we can now have the parking yard for all the fuel guzzling SUVs to park for the banene to enjoy an evening or weekend respite without the tensity that is the arua around the stadium today.

A better place
Kampala will also be a better place.  Thinking of the traffic jam?  Yes, with a recalimed Nakivubo, the jam that normally starts on Namirembe road and infect the whole city will reduce by a factor of three.  We can now arrive in time for everything.  To reach the taxi, park, the bus park, the office, the shops, upcountry and even out of the country.  We will reclaim three quarters of lost time that is consumed by the jams.

Delirium
That is a good thing. Asking how, time is wealth, is it not? Now, with the added time the productivity of the residents and dwellers and visitors can be expected to match the reclaimed time.  Measured in economic terms, we can now double our productivity.  The overall contagion of the inferno on the economy in real time will generate gross domestic product manifold, using last year as the base year.

Good for business
With the improved terms of trade, we will add another five years on the life expectancy in Uganda as people will reach the hospitals faster to get treatment, leave the bar fast to hit the sack, get to that ATM faster to replenish their wallets, eat better food - which will not decay on the trucks, all thanks to unjamming the city.  Our womyn folk can reach the hospital and find the nurse has arrived on time for her to deliver that bundle of joy. 

A message from the mountain
It is good feeling.  Behold thee mortals in Kampala, as the dust settles in Nakivubo, there will arise a great saviour that will deliver thee to the promised land.

A whiff of the gas from the bowels (E kinyapo)
You must emerge from the reverie now.  For if you do not you will remain firmly in the annals of day dreaming.  As the embers died down that fateful dawn, the traders resolved to rebuild their lives (literally).   Keep the prize away from the hyenas.  The wails and mourns had attracted the hyenas hmmm!! as well as certain people whose idea of redevelopment is skewed upside down.  The traders remained on the ground rebuilding their shattered lives.  They spent the night and the day nailing this and hammering that, that for someone who saw Nakivubo three days later could not believe the fire story.

Crying more than the berieved
The political machine swung into action.  FDC chief camped in Nakivubo and offered loads of building material.  Then the celebrities did their thing, as a Social Responsible thing to do, Chameleon offer millions so that Bobi Wine offered tens of millions.  Mukwano offered millions and a certain bank, waived the loans traders had taken. In between many well wishers offered their token of goodwill and prayed for the matter to rest.  But a one seya, who made his mark by fraternising with the folks in Owing and their ilks in Kampala was in for a shocker.  He arrived to ridicules and heckling. Finally, some one through a pair of shoes at him.  Harraaam!! the seya picked up clean pairs of heels and beat a hasty exit.

Grand Entrance
To put matters to rest. To stop this small thing of: Sh 100K, I mean tens of millions. The old man, he of the Ssabagabe distinction, the holder of vision and the omnipresent, enduring leader of this republic made a grand entrance.  I want this circus, this nonsense to stop.  He offered a billion shillings.  The shear weight of that offer put to rest any lingering intentions as the maestro had again proven his superiority.

Trouble is, he meant that money to come from a kitty that supports NAADS, a government/donor partnership to uplift the lives of farming communities in Uganda.  So the optimism can not last forever, that is if the traders can understand the ramifications of digging your hands in the family cookie jar.