Celebrating the Love of Friends in a Loving World

Celebrating the Love of Friends in a Loving World
Red Roses for You, My Sweet Friends ... Total Love.

My Sweet Friends

My sweet friends,

We grow closer to each other;

When we interact together and share ideas;

The common faith that we share,

Binds our hearts in one accord.

For sweet friendships last a life time,

When built on mutual respect, humility and understanding;

Throughout each different season,

We find we are one in life.

Sweet friends are there through times of grief;

And times when hope is gone;

Always there with encouragement;

So we can carry on.

I thank the Lord for you,

My true and faithful friends;

To fondly speak with you, whether we agree or not,

On this, our beloved blog;

For sweet friends will stay, no matter what;

Giving support.

Together, our hearts and minds truly unite;

With the amazing love of sweet friends.

In the spirit of true friendship,

Best wishes, my sweet friends;

May the Lord bless you abundantly.

I remain, yours truly,

B.B. Bakampa.

Search This Blog

Popular Posts

Total Pageviews

Follow by Email


Google+ Badge

Google+ Followers

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Discriminated Against In My Own Country

By Bakampa Brian Baryaguma

Yesterday, I left home in the morning headed to the Electoral Commission to complete my voter registration exercise in preparation for the 2011 general elections. I haven’t been able to complete this exercise since 9th May, 2008. Whenever I went there, the concerned officer would be absent. The last time I was there he was allegedly attending a political parties’ conference organized by the Commission that would last “a few days”. My informant, a member of staff, was however, unaware of exactly how many days the conference would last!

Anyway, I met a white lady of probably European or American descent at the Jinja Road traffic lights junction adjacent to the Electoral Commission and Centenary Park, where traffic policemen had taken over the duty of the traffic lights of directing traffic flow since our authorities cannot maintain them. She read from a map of Kampala showing city directions. We crossed and headed towards the E.C main gate walking on the pedestrian path. I noticed a fleet of police cars parked along the road and the presence of mean looking police officers and men armed to the teeth under the command of Commissioner Grace Turyagumanawe who was talking on phone.

I wondered what this was all about; but I remembered that this was Kampala under its usual police and military sieges which are now part of our way of life here––in the pearl of Africa! I paid no more attention to them and continued on my way, with the white lady a few steps ahead of me. Later I learnt from the media that a group of women from the opposition political parties were planning to petition the E.C chairperson in protest over some issues and police had come to block them.

Ahead was a club wielding policeman who came in our direction upon seeing us. He bypassed the lady before reaching me and shouted in Kiswahili, “We! Pita hapa (You! Pass here),” pointing at the main road with his club. I was startled out of my wits and politely obliged. This guy’s command was supreme law at that moment and being a law abiding citizen, I performed my duties as required.

But my conscience assured me that this was discrimination meted out to me. “Why did he leave the lady to continue and chose to stop me?” I asked myself. So many other questions of the like roamed in my mind without answers. The fact that it was done to me in my own country made me feel extremely bitter and disappointed. This was injustice, I thought.

My indignation was ameliorated by a more civilized approach to us by another unarmed policewoman who said nicely to the white lady walking ahead of me, “Excuse me, walk from there,” pointing to the main road. I didn’t wait to be told the same. At this point, I felt a sense of relief. I felt justice had been done and that equality had been observed and I beseeched God to bless the mothers of this world abundantly.

With this sense of relief, I took charge of my emotions and recalled my Christian obligation to forgive and I instantly forgave the policeman’s unfairness. I stopped blaming him: for he was probably being a ‘true’ African showing courtesy to visitors. On the other hand though, I remembered that it was such unnecessary favours that led us into colonialism.

As to what I think of the women demonstrators, I shall write a separate opinion. Just watch this space.