An encounter with English royalty

Prince Edward was regaled by our creative spirits

Tell the men on Buganda soil that go about bragging they are Kabaka’s men –tell them all they do is talk but in essence haven’t met real royalty as I did last Friday when I rubbed shoulders with none other than His Royal Highness Prince Edward Antony Richard Louis, the very son of Elizabeth II, Queen of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, the old lady that visited during Chogm and greeted President Museveni with a gloved hand!

In royal parlance, he is called the Earl of Wessex. This is the guy who shook my sweaty hand at the Uganda Museum, and we shared a literary tête-à-tête. When he dropped by and found us in the middle of a creative writing session, the ladies were left fantasising about stroking his pointed nose and caressing the enveloping bald patch on his head. I meanwhile seized the moment to tell him about my fiction and even read him a two-line excerpt from what I had written about a conman meeting his match:

“The man with the scar opened his mouth to say something but with the muzzle of the pistol an inch from his forehead, no word came out…” 

He seemed genuinely interested, and commended my meticulous use of the Queen’s language. All the while the paparazzi, mostly foreign, that had been accredited to cover the event were busy knocking themselves over in a bid to capture the best moments on camera and in their notebooks.

If you check, you might find me in all the British press! Even people from places as far-flung as Kirinya saw me on TV, and called in wonderment about how in heaven a commoner had pulled it off rolling with the regal class of the United Kingdom! Not that it was such a big deal hanging out with British royalty. I find monarchs a little medieval in this day and age, plus the Prince had neither travelled with ravishing nieces if any (who wouldn’t want to hook up a real dame), nor his Countess.

Still, hobnobbing with royalty is a privilege that no doubt elevates one above “y’all lesser” mortals! Consider it a sign of the great things in futurity! Some day, who knows, the optimist could receive the royal sceptre, with the military band pompously playing away and courtiers crying their hearts out in unison: “God bless the noble King; long live your Royal Highness!”