ARIAKA

Pregnant Expectations

She walked into the hall to murmurs.  With the head of state, the chief justice, the speaker, the cabinet, MPs – all the arms of state – all in attendance.  The diplomatic corps, protocol officers, journalists of all shades and opinions, all protocol observed.

She carried a black suit case – the court of arms emblazoned on one side.  She grinned broadly to the anticipating congregants.  Dressed in black and white, she is visible.  She is enviable, as this is the first time in the history of Uganda that the budget will be read by a woman.

Mabibi and Mabwana

After the national anthem is played, the speaker calls the house to order and makes a few remarks.  He now invites the star of the moment to her act.  Namirembe Syda Bumba then walks to the podium and stuns the audience.  Mabibi na Mabwana.  This is unprecedented.  She opens her budget speech in Kiswahili.

Poor Syda

Mr.  speakers Sir, I beg that the house dissolves into a committee of supply to receive the budget of FY 2009/10.  The finance minister proceeds to read her budget. A slip here and punctuation there.  She actually pulled it off well in the end.  There were moments of oohs and aaahs from the audience.   Deep into the speech, some members could not help it.  They dozed off into the afternoon siesta.  Ms Nabira, woman of Kampala was nudged by a colleague, into attention when the camera was trained in her direction.  For a others, the eyes where too heavy.  They snored away happily. What do you do with  the tropical heat and a full tummy. A recipe for a nap.

Winners

So, what is in this budget.  Roads.  It is time the ministry of defense ceded the top budgetary allocation spot to another ministry.  This time, the Ministry of Works took the apple.  The roads department carried a whooping trillion shillings.  The country has had quite a rough time with roads; unbitumenized, pot-holed,  infested, hmmmmm,  with gulleys.  Actually, some of our rural roads are seasonal rivers.  The bridges get a nod as well.

Poor Allen

No taxes.  In this daunting time, in this era of a conflagrating world economic downturn.  There will be no increases in the local tax base. Ms Allen Kagina must now plug all loop holes in the tax administration.  She must improve efficiency in the system and yet cut the cost of revenue collection to make money this financial year.  She loses in this budget.  Her work is now cut out for her.  However, she could do with a new law.  A friendly law that boost compliance.  She must move away from the comfort of the traditional large tax payers, and move into the informal sector.

Pombe for all

More pombe.  For those in agriculture, especially those farming for the breweries, it is time to make money as duty on locally produced inputs has been lowered.  So we can now happily drink Eagle lager and Senator.  What’s more for the guys who break their back in the village everyday, they can access loans at favourable terms. A seven year repayment period for loans is a winner for our farmers.  They can also benefit from a refunded and expanded NAADS.

Education for all

The minister also put big smiles on the faces of Schools and educational institutions.  VAT has been abolished for this sector.  So you could build more schools, so UPE and USE can gain ground and take root in the coming years.  So there is no reason for absenteeism in schools.  So proprietors can earn more money.  So administrators in government schools can have more money.

Green Budget

This budget (burned) Kaveera.  It also banned the importation of second hand fridges and computers.  So the carbon footprint of Uganda can improve with less emission of Persistent Organic Pollutants.  So Uganda can reduce global warming.  The people downtown are in for a difficult year.  If their livelihood depends on the trade in used electronics, then they better strike deals with the Muyindi on Luwum and Kampala roads who import brand new.

Elect NRM

It seems the framers of this budget have their eyes set to Elect Kags 2011.  The No new taxes,  Business as usual posturing is surely a welcome relief for businesses.  The focus on roads will create jobs in rural areas where the construction will be based.  The sweet music to farmers.  The more money to schools through low taxes and a consideration to civil servants in a 5% salary increment is a vote winner.  Okay, the cost of living has gone up owing to the depreciating shilling against major currencies, the rise in costs of fuel etc.  But salary increment leaves a good feeling.  We may say, the Minister is cautiously inflating the economy to stimulate it and mitigate against a decining world trade.  But putting money in the hands of peasants 12 months to an election can not be lost to an observer that Syda Bumba is preparing the grounds for the re-election of Kags.  Enough written.

Orphaned Budget

Even the best dancers must leave the stage.  Therefore, Mabibi na Mabwana she concludes, to an uproarious audience.  She had accomplished most difficult part of her pottery.  But she the budget is orphaned.  She forgets to ask the house to adopt this budget.  The spotlight can be consuming. 

The Right Honourable Intervention

The Speaker  saves her blushes.  Since she as asked along the speech, for adoption of this and that.  She is in order.

Four years ago, a young man opened the door and bust into the office.  Dressed in black trousers, white shirt, a matching tie and an infectious smile.  He was very smart. He walked to a chair and sat down, savoring his new surrounding and the attention from new people.  This is Tom Okirya our new sales executive,  Carol, the sales manager introduced him to us.

The immediate task was to find a sobriquet for him.  This is important as the passage into acceptance in TEA.  Our Baptist, the old man was away at the time.  When he returned we had observed enough of Tom to for the Kamulian to mention without hesitation.  Pastor.

Tom becomes a pastor owing to his firm observance of Christian lifestyle.  Later Pastor Deya.  Pardon me old man, Pastor Deya is quite distasteful.  But the rule is, a sobriquet gets to your nerve.  The bad taste is the background to joining the club, becoming part of the family. 

We also learnt of Tom Elvis Ochola Okirya, a mouthful of a name.  But, thanks, Pastor will do fine. Okay.  Tom is okay too.

Time moves pretty fast when you consider the routine of the office.  Targets, plans, presentations orders, commissions. Or the luck of them.  But time has moved so fast that we begin to notice a certain shift in the Pastor’s routine.   You have to see the computer screen saver to understand the current blowing away the good fellow.

The screen saver captures her in a temperate climate.  Snowy, heavy clothings, but… yes..,.. and the infectious smile. Have you noticed how a smile lightens even a tense situation.  It is good for the heart I am told.  Exactly, we now noticed Tom is warmly, his heart warmed by that smiling face.

Clearly something is happening to Tom, and it has to do with the matter of the heart.  As the new year broke this year, Tom lets the cat out of the bag.  Maybe, not exactly, but through slips here and there.  Anyway the point was being made that the good Pastor had been smitten by love bug and that he was in trouble as the young beauty had captured him completely and now she was resolute in delivering him to her parents for the final benediction.

It was inevitable.  Tom had to say it. On a Monday afternoon, he called me aside and sought my presence to witness the Okwandhula as the Baruli say, his marriage in a traditional ceremony in Nakitoma to Suzan Mwebaze, the damsel who now holds the pulse to his heart.

The short message came. It was D-day.  It said we were to assemble at Bugoloobi Church of Uganda to depart for Nakasongola.  However, I could not make it to Bugoolobi on account of another travel arrangement at the office.  So Saturday 18^th went down folklore in Nakasongola  as the day the bachelor from Eastern Uganda braved the rigours of travel, risked the  dangers in the wildlife and the audacity of love to pick their very own daughter.  The inimitable Suzan.

The men in Kanzus, the women in Busuti and Gomasi.  A beautiful spectacle.  We boarded our cars  and commenced at the head of a humongous convoy, sidestepping the morning traffic jam in Wandegeya, Kalerwe and Bwaise.   Finally, we emerge at a petrol station in Kawempe and savour the Kampala – Gulu road.

Telephone.  Caller, please assemble at Migyera trading centre for breakfast and to change into the party clothes.  We’ll,  I am dressed.  We made it to Migyera one and half hour later!!!  Shock!! shocks !!!  Food is ready.  At UGX 5,000 for fish and matooke, the food here is priced beyond the means of the locals. More, so than what Kampala offers.  This is amazing as R. Kafu is two stones throw away and Lake Kyoga beckons in 30 kilometers. The hoteliers here set their eyes on the long distance travelers and tourists.  The locals must tread deeper downtown to afford some food.  But the kobe meat is cheaper, this being in the cattle corridor. Anyway, the katoogo was off the menu as the early Kampala traffic had depleted the stock.  So I settle for chapati (well done), omelet and milk tea, for UGX 3,000. 

Shock number two.  As Tom’s entourage trickle in, a car at a time, over ten of them.  So do the ladies, rushing to change into the requisite traditional clothes, the busuuti, gomezi and the men, into the Kanzu.  On these occasions, the notion of time is lost to our women.  It is enough that putting on the gomezi is frustrating to the men, but the mannerisms of the good ladies change accordingly.  They must now walk at snail pace, one hand holding the innocuous gomezi, handbag hanging on the other arm.  The catwalk starts.  The idea of time is lost completely.

After an agonizing three hours of unwinding, undressing, dressing and snail walk.  We now board our SUVs, sedans, pick ups, vans and zoom ten kilometers away.  We arrive at Nakitoma village.  We have arrived to witness Tom wrestle Suzan away from the boys of this village, and take her to nirvana, to everlasting happiness.

We park the cars and converge under a mango tree.  In Lugbara we call him ojio, otherwise omwogezi, the only man allowed to intercede for Tom.  He takes us through the sensibilities.  The women must kneel when our hosts greet us.  The men must stand, etcetera.  Villagers emerge to behold the mass of immaculately dressed people.  Where are they from?  Ahha!!! They are from Kampala.  They cower.  They watch from a distance, some whispering, gestulating, giggling etc.,

Now is the hour of reckoning.  We troop, single file, in two lines, one male and the other female. We make way to a gate.  Christian music is playing,  three tents have been arranged.  Two tents filled to the seams.  If you know what I mean.   They have come to  see the man Suzan is going to marry.  They are welcoming their in-laws.  They are glad that this Saturday will be very colourful and generous.

So, we stand in the line in a scorching Saturday Sun and wait.  But no one comes to welcome us.   There is a clan meeting going on and no visitors are allowed.  Meanwhile, the excitement is palpable. Beautiful ladies in dazzling gomezi dart to and fro.  The men can not help it.  They drool knowingly, the Old man is besides himself, the general agrees that this village is something.  There is this particular lady, she catches my eye.  She has personality, character. She walks with an aura of a queen.  She is beautiful. 

Over thirty minutes of waiting in the sun.  You got the feeling it must rain sometime in the future to cool this hot day.  It then happens.  We see a bevy of beauties, emerge with baskets.  They gracefully make their way to the lines.  Then they inoculate, they actually said - vaccinate us so we can not infect the hosts.  After a while, she steps up to me. She is smiling.  She picks a paper, safety pin and ….. !!! She fixes the picture of Tom and Suzan on the breast pocket of my coat.  Ditto to the end of the line.

We are now safe.  We are ushered in to our tent.  We stand for a short while and then sit.  The drama has long started.  We have afande, corporal etc, who guide us through the occasion. The introductions, senga is difficult to get.  She must pretend not to know us until she is appeased.  Okay, not that way.  They will bring forth many sengas, until the one – owensonga comes to acknowledge Tom.

The interlude of music - local music, traditional music plays in between activities.  But I can not help it.  The Baruli must be true Ugandas.  Their lexicon is an imbroglio of words from Buganda, Bunyoro, Luo Busoga, Lamoghi.  Theirs is a hybrid language.  The dance is runyege.  And the food includes Kalo (cal) millet bread common in the north, and eastern parts of Uganda.  They have luwombo.  I now understand the militancy of the Buruli against Buganda.  They do not quite belong in Buganda.  They are a different, unique people.

When the senga finally acknowledged Tom, a stream of ululation filled the village.  We ululated to thank her for not denying Tom.  We now waited with bated breath to see her.  Before Suzan could come, her sisters preceded her.  In a way, it is a display of beauties for the bachelors to espy.  This family is demonstrating to us the availability of more damsels.  But today we want Suzan. 

The clouds crack, and rain descends on us.  We are safe in the tents, but the poor girls getting on with the show are drenched thoroughly.  They bear their cross majestically.  Sitting meekly as the rain swept their make up and ruined their hair.  The rain abates and the show continues.

Susan finally comes.  Her choice of gold and red is fantastic.  She has adorned her face.  She looks like a pharaonic queen.  She is beautiful.  Tom is truly a lucky man.  God agreed.  He opened the sky again and drenched Suzan.  It is a baptism.  An initiation into a new life.  A life with Tom for good, and for ever.