When I was rather naïve and in my first year of university, I chanced upon historical accounts that offered, in great detail, some insight into the creation of the state that is Uganda. Some fox-like, peripatetic fellow (whom a ganda-native calls Omuzungu—azunga) with more malice than good faith saw a latent opportunity that could earn him esteem and favor from his government. This fellow invited them over as though to his own land. His adventures ensued under the directions of a culpable corporation whose name suggested a harbinger for the iniquity yet to befall the land. After successfully furnishing all preparation for the invasion, the bogus company was declared insolvent and eventually transferred the administration of the territory to the British Government.

Perhaps, in what could have been the final step, a commissioner, whose legitimacy was derived from a piece of legislation enacted in UK, was appointed. The primary role of his administration was devising a mechanism that would consolidate the invasion. He came up with a ploy to lure the native leaders into the so called agreements. Thus came into being the 1900 Buganda Agreement that was photocopied and reproduced amongst other neighbouring kingdoms. With this piece of paper, the leadership of these nations was usurped and the theft of their lands and property legitimized.

The entire crafty process had no representation of the peasants, the real victims of this machination. Their only involvement was through African collaborators who sought to work with the ‘invader’ in hope it would add some weight to their CV to heaven.

Given the invader’s precocial tendency, they were more willing to hand over the barren project than the agitated Pan-Africanists were willing to take over. Consequently, the post-invasion leaders inherited a system that had been tried upon them and had proved sufficient. To this day, the same system—designed to have a cabal of opportunists at the helm, and often modified for self-serving reasons—still operates.

So those of you still shocked that oppressive policies are often approved by parliamentarians you directly voted to represent your views, should know that our future happened when the invader arrived.

***

I never cease to be amazed at the modern Ugandan activist, who, in sight of the gathering clouds, still insists on marking his name on sand. The activist’s most recent venture into futililty is the fight against the OTT tax, hinged on the usual vacant social media #Tags. For me, the fulminating sermons and rabble-rousing stances only paint them suspect. One would think that the actions of these well read, relatively exposed and sufficiently wise guys should show more attachment to the cause they claim to fight for.

This is not an attempt at silencing those who seek to express their discontent with some policies espoused by the regime. For renowned leftists, however, shouldn’t their activities be directed towards toppling the administration that implements these unfair policies? And yet they employ the same failed methods hoping that some miracle will propel them along the way.

Because I lack understanding of the working of miracles, I can think of only two possibilities. At best, these activists are feigning ignorance as to the futility of their struggle or at worst; they are agents of the same system they purport to fight!

I am always puzzled by the conflict. When real issues affecting peasants like evictions are happening, elites are crypt-silent, but when social media is taxed, they will make a peasant’s problem of it. They will appoint themselves heroes fighting for the justice of the peasant. My own culpable theory is that their motive is to distract from the real issue which is the end of this government. That a privileged-urbanite, should seek to interpret a peasant’s plight is ironic. It’s why I call them agents of the system.

***

Actually, I was tasked to write about books, not me and my biases. But again, who in this ego-infested world wouldn’t want to steal a chance and auction their experiences and theories—after all, even the most loved books often succumb to the custom of the trade.

I have always opined that little else is the purpose of books, but recording the personal experiences encountered by the writers, and those accessed through the prism of observation.All the rest are supplements to serve the entertainment value.

Books, I daresay are almost the only reliable mode of showing what life the people of that time lived; even when it seems too far from the objective of the writer. They often offer an insightful glimpse into the past. For instance, I can talk about the events of the past generations despite my being a millennial.  And anyone who has read 1984 by George Orwell knows too well the ability of books to project the future for those who care to read.

In ‘Why I Write’,  George Orwell writes: “I do not think one can assess a writer’s motives without knowing something of his early development. His subject matter will be determined by the age he lives in –at least this is true in tumultuous, revolutionary ages like our own…”The sentences resonate for I have always thought that all writing, good and bad, offers a glimpse into the times when the book was written—or at least what influenced the writer.

It is extremely difficult for me to think about books in this regard without seeming to melt under the vestige of nostalgic memory left over by books like Grapes of Wrath—chiseled from the storm of depression and migration in American history. A book that tells a real story lived at certain time beyond the constructed fictional characters.

The power of books—even those written for the wrong reasons like the ‘Holy Books‘—can best be demonstrated by how much they influence most people’s way of living regardless of their age. This should perhaps bear a hint of caution to writers—most of whom are living witnesses of the magic power books possess, to be more intentional and cautious about what they create—because that will surely succeed you. Look for instance at a book like ‘The Prince’, which was allegedly written as a job application by a one Machiavelli to the ruling Prince of his time. Presumably inspired by the atrocious horror he interacted with in the hands of his captors, ‘The Prince’ shouldn’t have had its venomous teaching spread over to our times. Look at how many leaders it has successfully molded into psychos.

Africa’s future seems for me, to be in historical accounts recorded years back by those whose motive were fostered by the malice, but also good faith—for in there is some useful account of time. So perhaps an intentional examination of these accounts may offer a sustainable solution to the current predicaments.

The culture and common-place nature of demonstrations (peaceful or otherwise), and the potential thrill of the extra-judicial changing of guards they harbor, warrants every force employed. This is important for a populace attempting to take charge of its future because it is indeed true as a certain ‘big man’ likes to recite: the conveners deserve all that happens to them.

Remigius Bagenda.