Lessons from my president

Recently, my President, Yoweri K. Museveni, marked 27 years in power. He arrived on the scene a gutsy man in a military cap radiating from the inside out. What an inspirational figure he cut! Starting out with 27 guns was like starting out without a budget. But he had an irrevocable belief that it was his mandate as a patriot to deliver this country from the doldrums it had plunged into. Sooner than later, he achieved what he believed, teaching us all that when you find something worth dying for and pursue it with all your heart even if it means sleeping in foxholes and eating roots for six years, you too will succeed phenomenally.

Museveni's inauguration in 1986. He cut such an inspirational figure

Accomplishing great things also has a connection with acting shrewdly like snakes and humbly like doves. The Museveni of the 1980’s embodied this. He had studied the times, and came at a perfect time when the cup of endurance was running over and masses were no longer willing to be misruled. Thus they supported him unreservedly; fed the guerrillas, hid and spied for them to victory. Without that backing, Museveni would not have made it even with a billion guns.

When I watched that 1986 footage of my president delivering that memorable speech of how this was no mere change of guard but a fundamental change, I thought of how the natives of the time burned with adoration and adulation for him. Then I compared him with the Museveni of today, and a tear dropped from my eyes into my cup of coffee. How deceptive man’s heart is! Who would have thought that the man who articulated with such passion how the problem of Africa are leaders who overstay in power would backtrack to the extent of bribing legislators to knock the two-term presidential limits from the constitution? Now those that worshiped him are groaning in the despair of betrayal and untold corruption that has ruined service delivery in this country.

Surely the president is deeply tormented by many regrets but is simply living in denial. He demands unquestioning allegiance so much that he even has not flinched from harassing his own party members that have the guts to question him on some things. Basically the salt has lost its saltiness and the day of giving account of his stewardship is sooner than he realises. I am even more optimistic because the torch will always be greater than the individual. My only prayer is that the next bearer will shine it better for the greater good of our country.

It's all about imitation

In the 1960s, psychologist Albert Bandura conducted a classic experiment on learning and aggression in which he got pre-school to watch a film of an adult behaving aggressively towards a large inflated doll. The adult pummelled the doll with a mallet, flung it in the air, kicked it and beat it in the face. Next, each child was left to play alone in a room filled with various toys including the doll. Many children who viewed the film imitated the adult's exact behaviours and even devised new ways of hitting the doll. Children who didn't view the film never displayed any of the aggressive behaviours performed by the adult. The experiment showed that children can learn aggressive behaviours just by watching others. 

Adults must set worthy examples to the little ones

This example returned to me after watching how the behaviours of two single mothers who are my neighbours is largely shaping the characters of their little sons as well. One of the mothers pampers her son; spoiling him with endless toys while the other child never seems to get anything from his strict mother. Let's call the two boys Mark and Ali. Everytime Ali touches Mark's toys, a fight ensues till Mark runs crying out to his mother. 

She's a big, garrulous woman who will then come flying from her house and yank the toys away from little Ali. She will sometimes pinch him while saying, "Maybe this will teach you to stop harassing my son." Ali never cries through his ordeal, which is quite odd for a child his age. Moreover this seems to drive Mark's mother madder that she will call out to Ali's mother chastisingly: "Why don't you discipline your son? I'm tired of him harassing my son!"

Now, Ali's mother is a taciturn, diminutive woman with small intelligence eyes. She will then appear on the door and tell off Mark's mother in the most confident way: "Your big boy is just a wimp; leave my son alone!"

The boys will meanwhile watch out the drama of their mothers till it has played out. Consequently, Ali has taken after his quiet and collected mother. He never cries and never laughs. It's hard to tell when he's angry or happy. As for Mark, he cries as much and is as easily offended and quarrelsome as his mother. The boy even wags his little finger, copies some of his mother's cuss words and even spits at 'elders' because his mother won't touch him.

From all this I've learnt that kids can either be atrocious or gentle depending on what they hear and learn from the adults in their lives. The disarming innocence they are born which is quickly replaced with anarchic attitudes that if not tamed early explode in adult age. That's how we end up with terrorists. Thus adults must take keen interest in the behaviour of children and deliberately set examples that will help their children to grow into responsible people the world can be proud of.

A great discovery

This is going to excite all the bachelors in the house. Because,
finally, the cure to your kitchen woes has been found. It is even more
exciting because I didn't spend reclusive days and nights in the
labaratory conducting several  experiments leading to this great
discovery.

Those who have not been there may not fully appreciate this simple-to-prepare yet special dish that is here to save us from the distresses that come with trying to fix a meal. If you have not had to throw away rice because it is too burnt or too watery and looking like
some stale pottage, if your tongue has not been burned like pepper as mine has been after putting way too much salt in my macaroni, then you will not appreciate the potency of my discovery.

With this discovery, we are not going to be hurried into marriage so that somebody can cook for us. You women are no longer going to brag that the quickest way to a man's heart is through his belly. Even
this fallacy that all men bumble in the kitchen whereas for women the art of cooking comes effortlessly, is going to be disproved. In fact, it already has because the last time I checked, a man was the bestchef in the world. 

Anyway, my discovery started with my beautiful neighbour
returning from the village after the New Year holiday, and knocking on
my door with a huge cluster of matooke. I don't like matooke and the
labour of peeling but it would have been rude to refuse the generosity
she moreover topped with a killer smile. So I accepted the provision
intending to pass it on to a friend who cooks. But I forgot until five
days later. By this time the cluster was beginning to yellow and I
found the idea of cooking ripe bananas irresistible. So I unwrapped
the peels with the dexterity of a monkey, filled my small saucepan,
sprinkled pounded groundnuts on top, added water and cooked.

A few minutes later I was having my meal, and oh how sweet!
All a bachelor has to do is buy some matooke, leave them a couple of
days to start ripening, peel, add pounded groundnuts and cook. That is
all it takes to have the quintessential bachelor's katogo that will
have you licking your fingers ravenously. How I would love le grand
chef Kadumukasa Kironde II to try it out and tell the world what he
thinks!!

Oh time be my ally

Beloved reader, welcome to the New Year and the first Sunday of 2013. Most of all, welcome back to reality after all the eating and lazing that defined Christmas and the New Year celebrations. I hope the holiday had anodyne effects on you after a year of hard labour. You need that freshness and readiness to confront the challenges that are already lurking and ready to pounce.  

oh time be my ally!

I’m talking about those New Year resolutions that fill the first few leaves of your sleek new 2013 diary and that are already begging for the implementation to begin! And if you are a nonconformist that abhors anything to do with resolutions, at least your boss or wife expects you to perform better than you did last year.  

Just in case you don’t realise, it is some good days into the New Year already. That says as much about the rashness of time. It’s a precious commodity that we cannot afford to squander. As it has been rightly said, time waits for no man. But I’m not saying it should hold us for ransom. And I’m not saying we should rush lest we crush. I’m only saying let’s utilize time better.  

Moreover diviners of pessimism have already spelled out that this year is going to be way tougher than the previous. They are partly right because there’s no worthy quest without a major test. And the person with the winning mentality cannot be intimidated. He's already preparing and when the test comes, it will get the best out of him.   

If you are saying it’s easier said than done, you’re among those that let others stifle their potential. Don’t listen to anyone with dispiriting words. We all enter this world naked and crying, meaning we share a measure of vulnerability and invisibility that make us fail or excel depending on our attitudes and approaches. Whereas some are busy unfurling their potential, others are busy becoming shrinking violets. Saying the odds against you are insurmountable is giving fear the license to rob you. Fear is that great robber that robs man of his greatness beforehand. One must therefore adopt a fearless stance to become a man or woman of substance.  

Also learn to encourage yourself through motivational literature. Find someone with whom you gel and motivate each other to the top through words and deeds. With this, you can make your life sublime, and as poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow beautifully put it, “leave footprints on the sands of time.” 

The lessons and the new melody

I remember it so well. The hour striking midnight and the fireworks

cracking through the Kampala sky seismically! It was special because
it was Sunday - a good sign that got me prophesying that 2012 would be
a year to "increase, bloom and make a difference."

The next thing I knew I was strapped into a rickety rocking
chair that was turning haltingly in circles I would rather forget. I
didn't buy my first car and didn't take my company to the level I had
hoped I would.  But it was not entirely hopeless. I bettered my work
ethic and made a difference that makes me want to gloat.

So let me speak with 'authority' about the things I know, the
things I learned. Let me share that in spite of the mistakes and
frustrations, and even the rip- off, there's always some sweet fruit
to reap, something always prevails from our travails.

You have heard it said that it takes vision and a good plan and
self-belief to make it. Even then I've learned that one can still
fail. The beauty of it however is that being down does not mean being
out. You cannot let a couple of failures distract you and obstruct the
fulfilment of your dream. It's time to change approach and rearrange
that masterplan.  It's time to renew our convictions to succeed.

To paraphrase actor Courtney B. Vance in the movie "The
Preacher's Wife", now is the time to judge not our past but our
future, not our failures but our dreams, not our imperfections but our
possibilities. Remember your columnist is not just an encourager but a
true friend that has his right arm wrapped around your shoulder
because I believe in the real you that was created to shine. I believe
we can change our prevailing circumtances and together redeem the
destiny of our country.

So let's rise and step forward into 2013 in love and with a new
approach. One that is action-oriented and bursting with optimism. And
if the going gets tough, we shall remind ourselves that we are tough
too but also reach for help because we are here to lift one another
up.

For now though, let's tear down the dancefloor with boogying. If
you have no achievements to celebrate, at least celebrate the fact
that you still have that precious breath and can start anew in 2013.
Happy New Year, and may your important dreams come true.

What Christmas is and is not

A joker posted on Facebook a picture of a bloody Santa Claus after getting knocked down by a car. A man is weeping over the tragedy and the caption reads: "No Christmas for me: Santa is dead!" I like the underlying message: Christmas brings more misery than joy if you really think about it. And that's only because we wait to do good and be generous around this time when we ought to do this everyday. 
    
Moreover, Christmas gifts ceased being about goodwill so long ago that there is no longer shame in demanding for them. That's why somebody will be dumped for not buying the "perfect gift!" Last Christmas a friend of mine received a brand new smart phone from his brother abroad. As soon as his girlfriend saw it, she cajoled and employed all tricks in the book to own it but failed. She then threw a 'tight' tantrum, asking my friend to choose between her and his phone.  
 

"Gifts are exchanged by people who can barely sit in the same room without suffering severe nausea," wrote a Monitor journalist in a recent article, aptly capturing the hypocrisy and superficiality associated with Christmas giving. 

Well, the optimist is saying it's high time we returned to the basics of doing it the right way. The Ugandan Police shouldn't come out now to say bars will close at 10pm on Christmas. This should be an everyday phenomenon if children are to have quality time with their parents and grow up to become responsible citizens. 

 There are also those people who are clueless about the essence of Christmas.  All they know is that from mid December until the New Year kicks in, they have to let their spirits loose and party like the world is coming to an end. "Merry Christmas and Happy New Year," they holler in deep voices they believe to be flawless replication of Santa's, and clink their glasses in multiple toasts. And on the second day of January, they are broke, heavily indebted and thoroughly restless.

 It's for this and more that we should not jump on the bandwagon. Refuse to be blackmailed into buying a gift you cannot afford. Refuse to give something if you don't want to. For Christmas is not about the hullabaloo that is rending the atmosphere already. It's about loving and sharing and being there for one another all year through.

--This was first published in the Sunday Monitor of December 23, 2012

………

The ladder of happiness

A television ad shows a young man saying he would buy a ladder if he won Shs200m. At first I found the idea not just funny, but ridiculous. But I have since had to reconsider seeing he could have been speaking symbolically. Maybe the ladders are the networks he would build to take him to the top and give him the satisfaction that is elusive to most of us.

The more I thought about it, the more I realised how much I need a ladder too. I need one with huge rungs to take us (family, friends and colleagues) up the festive tree in whose branches we shall pluck the fruits of happiness and connection that we missed sharing together much of this year because of the busy-ness of our lives.

Christmas with Dad many years ago

It never used to be this way. That is why you often hear of the "good old days." Today individualism has infiltrated the hearts of men and women and taken the place of communal love so much that children no longer look to elders for meaningful Christmas. Now it is a fat, mystical creature with a freaky laugh and a long white beard that children look to. In my time we never heard of Santa. All I remember is the entire clan celebrating together with lots of eats and music and laughter whose memories sustained us to the next Christmas.

And the only way that true spirit of festivity can return is if everyone makes it a deliberate plan to bless someone; not just a family member, but a neighbour or even stranger. I learnt it does not take much during a recent visitation upcountry. I asked a boy what he wanted and he said bread. This was no milk-teethed child but a chirpy Primary Three pupil who tops his class every term. He was barefooted and in shorts that needed some mending. Yet he did not ask for shoes or some expensive toy children his age dream about nightly. He asked for bread.

I'm sure every reader of this column has the capacity to return to the village with a sack of rice or a box of soap. You would be amazed the difference a loaf of bread, a kilo of meat or sugar can make in the life of a disadvantaged individual. It could make this their best festive season. So get your ladder and help someone climb to the level of happiness never before reached. It will multiply your joy too