Into the long struggle
When you look back, but it will happen.
I sit here and look back and see myself a very thin man who was very poor so many years ago. We suffered and struggled. We got tired and left our beds to go and sleep in the hills and the slopes of mountainous districts so that God, the almighty, can speak to us. My poverty was too much!
I see no reason why we should end this struggle at this moment of time when people who were down, frustrated, and desperate, not knowing what to do, are now saying, that, really things can be done. Who said it couldn’t be done, in the beginning?
We are far now, deep, in the struggle. And this struggle, be informed, is not about telling the likes of Trump or Besigye what to do. We want to see a man or woman who was lame wanting to say that now he or she can walk.
We want to see the deaf wanting to talk. The poor are saying riches are now possible to get. Those who had been excluded from society are now back and friends have appeared who had left them, to die alone, of poverty. The blind will see.
Serious football players say the more you get involved and run across the field, delivering sharp crosses to the Mess is, the more fired up you get, forcing spectators to chant your name.
Then, you hear cases of the Paul Pogbas being bought at shocking amounts of money. You have to get involved now and close your ears, tightly, against what people say. People are going to say. People here talk!
Keep the feet on the ground! What you do will finally be translated into cash. And, when money starts coming, it never stops. Those who know more about money, and its sources, know this.
You might be among those who want to wield power. All of these things will come, when the time comes.
Talk to yourself and, within yourself, think of what you have done that will lift beyond the level you are now.
People want success, but they are not willing to learn lessons from whatever happens to them. People are afraid to sit in the class rooms of this earth to study and learn lessons. See, I struggled while at school.
I saw my powerful father travelling across this world. He rubbed shoulders with almost all the big wigs that existed in his time.
I grew up in poverty and struggled, with my single mum, until some terrible things opened my eyes. Poverty thumped me for years. It hit me hard and, on several occasions, I contemplated committing suicide.
My friend, the rich grow poor but, also, people use their brains and grow rich. I could use my father’s name to lift myself into difficult to find seats but, I didn’t do it.
You alone can raise yourself from the dead. Your family names mean nothing.
This is a long struggle. Do not expect it to end soon. Every day we see people who are saying, we want to be helped.
Numerous patients are treated at Mulago but still, in Mulago, people are dying. This world is not our home.
We shall one day go up or be sent to hell. Ask yourself, how have you gone?
These things will one day make sense, perhaps if you have accomplished what you sought for years, or if you have gone back, into ‘nothingness’. Wait a bit!
Sometime I write with perhaps slight anger, filling my heart, but I am also human and, therefore, feel bad when so many people in our country suffer like we today do.
You are a minister perhaps. Do something for somebody here! Someone is down. Someone is unwanted. Those people, there, are suffering. You know!
I am not quarrelsome. I am not abusive. I am saying someone, here, can be free. Someone can break the hard shackles that today continue to injure his ankles. Those chains are too big, and heavy. We can unchain a certain Ugandan.
No! I am not against anybody. I just love my people. I believe it, in my heart, that anybody can improve his or her life, as long as he is willing to move on, as we urge them to soldier ahead.
This struggle must be long and, now, we are deep, far, into it. We shall succeed. We can never walk alone!
Sekka Bagenda is a writer, An inspirational Public Speaker and a Sports Scientist
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