Still Here Waiting

It is nearly two weeks now since I was suspended from work and have been therefore formally unemployed. I have spent much of the two weeks back home in the village doing some simple farm activities and beautifying where I live.

It has been quite a quiet time for me with few telephone calls but with a busy schedule of physical activities that ranged from slashing, planting, jogging, weeding, sawing, painting, trimming and sweeping. Sometimes I gazed at the moon or the rain when it interrupted my schedule. I hardly went to town except two occasions to read mail. I have also had time to take care of my dogs and re-organize the position of some things in my compound like the dog pen, garden seats and lights. I have been handicapped by finances though; on some of the improvements I had planned do on the cottage ahead of the Christmas holiday that will see Emmy and the expectant mother home for two weeks.

Finding casual labor around the village has also been quite difficult and I have had to do much of the work at home single handed. I have employed my nephews a few times but they are just unfocused and unreliable; always having one program or the other of their own that causes inconsistency in reporting to work. Their way of work just does fit with my style neither my schedule.

They seem to have forever to do some of these earthly chores. I wish they could just begin to appreciate the value of time. To them, the saying that time is money seems to be too remote and neither have they considered that tomorrow will soon be yesterday and they will be older than they could imagine. Look at me! My whole head is nearly grey now and it seems like yesterday when I was a boy just like them. Sometimes, I look at my son and imagine that I waited too long to get him into this world. It should been much earlier when I was still with plenty of energy and “time.” Well, I have lots of catch up to do for him now. Anyway, I have been told by some colleague or former colleague if you take it that I have already been sacked, that New Vision tends to handout dismal letters at end of month rather mid, just like resignations tend to take same pattern.

I came over to Entebbe yesterday expecting to hear from the New Vision today but the day is nearly up and yet to hear a thing as far my fate is concerned. Anyway, I have been told by some colleague or former colleague if you take it that I have already been sacked, that New Vision tends to handout dismal letters at end of month rather mid, just like resignations tend to take same pattern.

If no communication comes through today, I might travel to Lira tomorrow morning to pick up some of my personal effects and move on with my life instead of living in limbo.

Today

Today is another day for me here in Kampala. It has been a cool calm day and I have met quite a few interesting people since I started off from Entebbe in the morning.
I took a motobike taxi from home to the commuter taxi stage for Kampala in Entebbe town and the rider charged me seven hundred shillings instead of the usual one thousand. At another taxi stage in Kampala, I was conteplating buying a sweet for myself to while the time on my way to head office to meet the Human Resource Manager and my supervisior but a lady who sat next to me bought two sweets and gave me one. What a coincidence and kind act in the morning. We were heading to same direction but she alighted before my destination.
I went along with my supervisor to meet the human resource manage who presented me with a letter to sign and told me that I am to appear before the disciplinary committee for a hearing tomorrow at 2pm following report by audit dept on the accident my official car was involved in. My supervisor was asked to be around but he declined saying that he will be starting hsi leave tomrrow. He instead asked his deputy to stand for him. I too was asked to come along with a representative e.g a lawyer to witness the hearing. I have decided, though, to go it alone and let justice take its course.
Our meeting with HR manager was pretty short and I went out to town to do some window shopping as I mused about what the future holds for me after the New Vision. Talking about the future,; a preacher on a local TV station preached about change on his early morning show called Insight for Living. He quoted that popular saying that "The future has the tendency of arriving an annouced or too soon." The other memorable thing he said was that human beings have a natural tendency to resist change yet change is good even if it comes in bad circumstances. He also quoted Roman 8.28 as word of encouragement to believers in Christ who might be apprehensive of cahnge. I was encouraged by the preacher's words and my positive attituted was strengthened and was quite prepared for the day.
I very well know that the letter that I was given today is a prelude to my being shown the exit from the New Vision after 13 years of faithful service. Thank God, thugh, that the future has come to me while I am wide awake and I welcome the change even though I am not certain of what will be. However, the change may come along with tough times ahead but I am certain good will come out of it all.

My Times

I have been away from work for eight days that I spent doing other kind of work at home in the village. Put another way; I have on a short leave or vacation as our American brethren would have it.
I took a break at the peak of investigations into my car accident amid a lot stress and it has been good for me so far that I had that break from work. I have been able to quite a bit in the village in preparation for my retirement or sacking, whichever comes first. I have also had time to do a lot of physical exercise in doing task like weeding my garden, sawing wood, pushing the wheelbarrow full of soil and manure. Naturally, there has been some time spent with my parents, neighbors, friends and dogs. I have had lots of time too with the radio listening favorite programs on the BBC and local Fm stations. I did not miss a day too with my Bible and had one Sunday to preach the word of God.
My sleep often came fast and in one stream. The moon was shining bright nearly all the nights that I spent home that created a routine for me of taking a walk around the compound with the dogs before going to bed.
I often walk up early by 4.30am, stretched, prayed, read my Bible, took some porridge, brushed and got started with my day's schedule. I did some jogging before setting about work in the last three days home in preparation for the MTN Kampala Marathon due on November 22nd.
I reported back to work in Lira today, having left Tororo by bus yesterday. It has been quite a day for me at the office with lots of story being told to me by various folk around about the investigations by the audit department into my car accident and rumors of my imminent sacking and lots of intrigue. Well, that to me is a settled matter because I have passed the worrying or guessing stage many miles back and I am on to the future after The New Vision with or without the sacking or the pardon.
I have one of the senior auditors attempt to block my transport refund but in vain, reportedly because I crashed my official vehicle. I wonder if that is standard practice or official policy in the New Vision? Well, today too there has been a hold up of my petty cash voucher by one of the auditors who investigated the accident. I wonder if that too has to do with the accident or does it portend worse for me at the New Vision?
Anyhow, I will traveling to Kampala tonight at 12.30am by bus for the monthly sales meeting on Thursday morning. I hope to spend Wednesday afternoon and evening with my family and travel to Tororo Friday afternoon or Saturday morning to follow up on some of the work I left pending. I am likely to travel back to Lira on Sunday afternoon depending on what the management of New Vision has decided about my fate following the car accident and the subsequent investigation into by the internal audit department.

Enroute in the North

I am in Gulu tonight on an end of the month debt collection trip in my sales territory. I left Lira this morning with an accountant from head office in Kampala who came along with a vehicle from credit control department driven by one of the pool car drivers. So, I am not at the wheel today.
My car is still in the garage for repair following the accidentit was involved in more than two weeks ago. There has been a lot controversy over the circumstances of the accident, especially who was at the wheel at the time of the accident and I have been through a bit of questioning by the audit department that may or may not lead my sacking. Well, I have taken it in stride and chosen to work normally despite the stress it is fanning up.
I have covered so far a quarter of this four day journet that will take me through at least five major towns and districts of northern Uganda. We left Kitgum this afternoon having arrived from Lira at about lunch time and we hope to leave for Adjumani at about 10am tomorrow, from where we shall proceed to Moyo and cross over the Nile to Yumbe, on to Arua.
By thursday, we should have covered Nebbi, Pakwach, Oyam and Apac. Hopefully, we shall be back to Lira on Friday where I hope to get on the bus home to Tororo as the accountant and the driver get back to Kampala.

Home With Family

I had quite a wonderful time home in Entebbe with family and friends last week despite the hardship of geting around without a car in a rainy season. Emmy was quite a handful but that is what made it fun being with him.
We went together to Kampala on Friday the 9th October, Uganda's Independence Day for the annual Uganda Manufacturers' Association International Trade Fair. It was not that exciting as it has been for us in the past years. There were so many people at the show, especially school children, causing lots of congestion and lack of concentration on any particular item. The mistake that we made this time round was to go on a day that was a public holiday when most people was be free to go out and hang. Well, Emmy's presence made all the difference for me. He was attending his first trade fair and witnessing the biggest gathering of people in one place for the first time.
The way Emmy conducted himself amid the sea of people was just amazing. He was not perturbed by any particular thing. He smiled, jerked, shouted, waved and did a lot of eating. He did not have the slightest intention to dose in the four hours we were at the show as he had already had some sleep on the way from Entebbe to Kampala. But he had a sound sleep on the way back.
When we got back home, Emmy made loud noises and moved vigorously around the the seating room; probably his excitement was an expression what he had witnessed and was also glad to get back home to play ball and tell stories in his own langauge. He smiled in his sleep later that night despite moments of crying over something that appeared symptoms of flu.
It was not so exciting to leave Emmy on Saturday morning when I traveled back to Lira through Tororo. Emmy cried as I walked away from the house in Entebbe and seemed to understand that it was not for just a while that I was moving away.
Trudy was not particularly happy save for the day we went for the show. She had some intermitent spotting and nasal bleeding that has persisted for quite a while now. I only hope that today's review at Mengo Hospital will bring some good results.
I will off to West Nile tomorrow for a field trip with my supervisior that will take us as far as koboko after we have been to Pakwach, Nebbi, and Arua. I might probably return to Lira on Friday and then travel Eastwards to Tororo for the weekend.

In Rainy Kampala

I am in Kampala for an abrupt monthly sales meeting and Regional editors' meeting. I was not expecting to attend the rgional vernucular newspapers' editors meeting that included the two ne radio stations' news editors and programme managers. I expected to be in Kampala next week, though, for the monthly sales meeting.
I arrived in Kamapala at 1am Tuesday night having left Lira by bus at 5.30 pm. The reason for using the bus is obvious; my official vehicle got involved in an accident mid Monday morning and is awaiting lifting to Kampala for repair.
The last four days have been tough days for me on how to get around and perform my official duties without an official vehicle. The rainy weather has not been so supportive in that direction. Right now I should be out of head office doing some window shopping in town of at the Uganda manuifacturers' Association International Trade fair at Lugogo but I am stuck in here becuase it is raining. I have so many other commitments; like debt collection and some private work back home in Tororo that I just cannot do without a vehicle.
On the other hand, though, it has been interesting geting back to the real life of commuting by taxi from home in Entebbe to head office in Kamapala these two days. I had a nap in a traffic jam after browsing a few chapters of some magazine that I bought a few week's ago but just could not settle down to read. That brought back memoeries of the times I was working here at head office herein Kampala.
Traffic jams were a time for to read my newspapers, books or magazines for I always carried something along for reading and eventually I dozed a bit to make up for lost sleep. And that just what I liked this morning on my way from Entebbe. I had a chance to read and relax while somebody else took care of the wheel and the stress of that comes with haywire driving in Kampala traffic jams.
I reached office fresh and enlightened on a few health and fitness issues from the magazine that I perused and I did not have to doze in the meeting. That has been the upside of having no car to drive, at least today. The down side was, I had to listen to may loud mobile phone converstations that I did need to from some mindless passengers in the commuter taxi.
It is amazing how louder Uganda has just got. Music every where from street corners, phones and in the back of lorries from loud speakers. It is a noisy world we are living in. Thank God for a quite home to return to at the end of the day if you are lucky man like myself.

My Story

When I flashback on my life today, I truly believe and feel that I have come from rugs to riches no matter what else other people might think. I might not be as wealthy as I might have been and I might have all that I would desire but my current status and life is worth writing home about.

This is my story and it might be the story of my family. I was born to a primary school dropout - mom and a veterinary assistant - dad who seemed to have been relatively wealthy in their earlier years of marriage. At least I could tell from the property my parents held and the land and the livestock we had. And my elder siblings did not really have an outlook of a peasant origin. The entry of polygamy into the family though seems to have come along with hard economics later especially for my mother who had to fend for us unaided most of our school going age.

We are a family of nine living siblings out ten children born to my mother and father and I am number five. I am told I was supposed to have been the last but four more children followed me.

I am also told by my mom that as a child I was lavished with many good things but they all wore out with the years as I grew into teen-age. I remember one very beautiful pair of canvas shoes and a baby court that was called Moses’ bed that only turned into firewood in my secondary school days. Those are some of the things that I did see in my childhood years that smacked of a decent or modest life.

I remember one Christmas eve in the late seventies we had porridge and peas for supper while the smell of roast meat from my village neighborhood filled the air as families prepared for the festivities the next day. Dad was obviously away at his second wife’s home and had done no Christmas shopping for us at all. Mom managed to buy us some meat on Christmas morning though. And we the chicken reared at home with had a good Christmas lunch.

Obviously I went to church that day in my school uniform like it had to be for most of my primary school years till I joined secondary school when I had the luxury of sleeping on a mattress, two bed sheets and blanket instead the straw mart and one sheet I had got accustomed to in the village.

I remember visiting Kampala for the first time in 1982 upon my elder brother’s invitation after seating my primary school leaving examinations and it was one long twelve hour train journey from Tororo in Eastern Uganda to Kampala in central. My brother was a physician at Mulago Hospital; the national referral hospital in Kampala and he had just returned from a doctors’ conference in India. He had a pair of beautiful Power canvas shoes for that quickly elevated me from the barefooted villager in the city to a decent looking lad – at least I wore them when I went to church on Sunday or visited other relatives in the city. On other occasions, though, I had to dash around home in Kampala on barefoot and in a pair of shorts that had torches (holes from over wearing and sitting on rough places back in the village) on the back, exposing my buttocks to the view of the public.

My torn pair of shorts often attracted ridicule from the rich neighbor’s kids. That is the only time I remember feeling embarrassed or having a sense of low esteem. It was normal to move naked in the village even up to the age of six and wearing rugs was not a big deal. Even in Kampala I had never felt embarrassed being the person that I was.

I went back to the village with my Power canvas shoes and it was a delight to join secondary school with my white them as a number of students admired and borrowed them to dance in.

For a while in secondary and high school I seemed to forget my poor background and got carried away by unworthy activities of various notorious groups that affected my academic performance. There were instances though that some rich kids tried to remind me of my poverty. I remember Friday when I was traveling home for the holidays in a taxi that was full of students from my village and one girl looked at my wooden suitcase and said in a derisive manner, “I would never carry such a coffin to school.” It was clearly meant to embarrass me because we were all excited to be traveling home and just wonder what my suitcase had to do with this pretty woman who was much older than many of the students in the taxi. I thought she had a better understanding of things.

I was naturally hurt by her comments even though I did not show any signs of embarrassment because it was what my poor mom could afford to see to it that nothing stopped me from joining secondary school. That wooden suitcase had also seen an elder brother of mine through O level and it was also the same suitcase my mom came with into my father’s home when she dropped out of college. It was the precious suitcase her dad had bought her for school. I can see that suitcase being given a blue paint touch after years of use by mom before my brother who excelled so well in his academics packed his few clothes and books into it. My brother is a senior forest officer in a Uganda government organization in charge of forests. I wonder if he remembers that blue suitcase and his first pair of trousers mom bought him when he passed his O levels with straight distinctions.

Today I am a regional marketing officer with one of the leading multi-media companies in the East African region. I have a company car to myself and a modest monthly salary that affords me a decent life and other privileges that a lot of Ugandans can only dream of. I have traveled to most parts of the country and beyond and I can enjoy the hobbies that were so difficult to practice in my childhood. For instance, I have access to IT that helps me write articles, publish, send mail and photos as I wish unlike the hard times when I had to hire with my little school pocket money a photographer for my first two articles published by the BBC Focus on Africa magazine. It was those articles that helped compete favorably for my current job that I have held for the pats twelve years. They gave me a competitive advantage over other applicants since the company was looking for marketers with interest in the media and the articles bore me witness to that effect.

Life is tough but manageable. I can determine and plan for my future thanks to our hardworking resilient loving mom who worked so hard to see that we got a decent education and never left us to starve. I no longer have to be called Maria or a sissy by the village boys who ridiculed me as I carried black soot pans on my head full of food and water for pigs - The pigs that were reared to raise part of our school fees.