Where did the love go?

A drunken woman almost going naked with no one willing to help her

I mean the love of a neighbor. The love of a good Samaritan. Where is it? Where did it go? There used to be a time when a person didn’t have to call for help, to be helped. One would just see that someone is in need and they will give a helping hand.

But today, even if you scream for help, no one will run to you. They will all watch you, their eyes wide but blind to whatever is happening to you. Some may pity you. Others instead of offering their help will judge and condemn you creating all kinds of reasons as to why you deserve the kind of situation you are in .

Look at what happened to a young woman who got drunk in broad day light during the Kabaka’s run recently. As she staggered around falling on her ass and rolling in the mud, her audience just stood by looking on.

Some were amused at her drunkardness. Others were angry and sneering at the way she was disgracing herself. However, there was this one good fellow who captured her mishap on a video that went viral on social media where I also happened to know about her misfortune.

But all in all, as viewed on the video, no one offered a hand to this young woman. They all saw her as a sinner who had committed a grave sin. But who are we to judge her. We are all sinners.

Just because we sin differently, it doesn’t make us saints. And who really knows what happened for this young woman to get drunk for us to judge her so quickly. May be she had been tricked into drinking soda that was mixed with alcohol. Has that crossed anyone’s mind?

But whatever it is, all this young woman needed was a helping hand in her time of vulnerability. Just taking her to the first-aid tent to sleep off her drunkardness would have been enough. But what everyone did was to rush to condemn her because she had become an embarrassment and a nuisance to be put off.

If we are a family, neighbors and a community, I believe we should learn to help each other out. Today it is me, but tomorrow it will be someone else.

Lugoloobi Frank, Kampala

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