I don’t think I know the meaning of freedom anymore. Growing up as a child, I had a dream of being independent one day, from my parents because just as any other kid, I felt like they made me do this and yet I wanted to do that, told me to be this and yet deep down, I knew it sucked. I wanted to be what I felt I wanted to be, not what they wanted me to be. But with all these thoughts of emancipation and unruliness swirling in my head, deep down I knew that I had to comply since in the African culture, a kid has no say when it comes to the kind of parenting, even though one that’s above 18yeatrs, the rightful age of adulthood. So long as one was still under the roof of their parents, they had to adhere to each and every rule, policy, and culture, name it, that was instilled in them by their parents. That’s what it means to be an African and I can never be any more proud.
Little did I know that the sought independence and liberty that I yarned for since way back was all a toddler’s fairytale. No one is truly independent of oneself, not at least in my country. No!!! We’re all dependent to someone, to something. Well, some may be independent but trust me, we’re all in one big ship sailing to a place called nowhere for those sailing are blinded by their own agendas. Instead of having compasses leading the whole team to a place called somewhere, a future worth holding onto, their compasses point towards treasure chests lying in wait for their greedy hands to hold. Their visions are cut short by their hearts’ desires. They sail us to where they want to go as they give us imaginary pots of honey, sometimes tangible but not long lasting which come smothered with consequences in the end, so as to quiet down the rage that slowly keeps building in our hearts for we seem to see not even a single sign of progress on our journey.
So I ask you this, do you really think am truly independent? I don’t think so. Are you truly independent? Well I guess that isn’t my question to answer.
Oh Uganda, may God uphold thee!!!
I don’t think I know the meaning of hard work anymore. Growing up as a child, we were taught the slogan, “hard work pays”, something I am sure most still hold onto unlike me. We were taught to always be hardworking, having qualities like optimism and resilience so as to achieve our set goals. We were given live examples of those who lived before us, the liberators of African nations from the foreigners, the likes of Nelson Mandela who liberated the now great South Africa to its independence, Jomo Kenyatta for Kenya, Apollo Milton Obote for my very own Uganda, a country that birthed me. Well, what they never put into consideration was that those were the days of those times and we live in a dynamic world. The world has changed greatly from the world those great personalities once knew. Yes, they had a dream which they did fulfill but they also had a future, which am not really sure if it came to pass. No one can really be sure if the future we’re living today at was the future Milton Obote saw Uganda at, at 2021.
Am not certain anymore as to whether even if I strive tooth and nail to leave this pit I am in right now, to the pinnacle I grew up being told I would one day live to enjoy, as long as I followed their principle of “ hard work pays” is all worth it. Truth is, we live in a country where if we’re not having a taller shoulder to help us walk, we shall always remain in our pits. A father for a son, father for a daughter, brother for a brother, a sister for a sister etcetera. It’s just how my country came to be shaped in. I don’t really think the reason as to why we’re having a lot of unemployed graduated on the streets jobless is only as a result of the rapid unemployment plus the constantly failing education system.
I will ask you this again. Do you really think that I should keep working hard? With all those hard workers out there jobless? I don’t think so. More still, do you really think you should work harder? Well, I’ll leave that to you.
Oh Uganda, may God uphold thee!!!