Morulem Boys’ Primary School, Where are the Old Boys?

Dear teacher,

We have seen Morulem Boys’ Primary School decorate our mother home district in the national map of Uganda through excellent performances in Primary Leaving Examinations (PLE) and in Music Dance and Drama for a number of years now.

We all know that a lot of effort by teachers, pupils and parents contribute to this. We also know that the school actually leaped from grass to grace in recent times. I remember during the 1990s, getting 10 first grades would be a super thing in the same school. Last year, Morulem Boys’ tide up with Child Jesus Primary school in Moroto to top the region in PLE performance. Both schools had 30 children in grade one.

In my view, this good work needs to be hiked or at least sustained so that it becomes an indissoluble culture that our grand, grand and grand children of tomorrow and next may also get it and keep it.

Pupils of Morulem Boys' School during Music Practice          

In the 1990s Kotido Mixed Primary School was atop the region in terms of PLE performance. However, Kotido Mixed failed to uphold their status and today they have dropped from hero to horror. We can’t blame this on teachers or pupils. When you succeed in something, the fruit of your success should take you to another level. The stars of Kotido Mixed needed to look back to the school and contribute to the revival of that lost glory.

In other parts of Uganda, historical schools such as; Ntare school, Kings College Budo, Namilyango college etc. have managed to protract their fair performances partly and largely because of the Old Boys and Girls’ contribution. These former Pupils/students who have succeeded in life after school make unbelievable -valuable annual contributions towards school development programs. We could as well borrow a leaf from these people so that we see a way of sustaining positive developments in our schools.

As an old boy myself, I wish to suggest to fellow old Boys of Morulem Boys’ school one simple thing. Let’s start an annual contribution towards the development of the school.  We could call it, Morulem Boys’ Old Boys’ Development Fund (MOBODUF). The Contributions from every Old Boy who feels the sense of attachment to this great school will start as early as January and ends in November. An annual Old Boys’ Conference in December every year will then decide on what the collected fund should be for.  It could be for an extension of the school Library, dormitories, Classroom blocks, Washrooms, or even a School Van, depending on the collection by end of year.

During the get together, old boys will also have a football match or other games with the School team to demonstrate cohesion and delight for the school. Other important engagements including guiding and counseling of pupils on current world challenges such as the HIV/AIDS problem, harmful practices like abuse of drugs etc would also be extended to children in attendance during this single day in a year.

To make this easy and more practical, we could disaggregate the Old Boys’ membership. We can have COOPERATE members whose annual contribution is a minimum of UGX250, 000(200,000 goes for School Development Fund (SDF) and 50,000 to facilitate the annual sitting (Conference Fund (CF). A second category could be called SUBSCRIBERS, whose minimum annual contribution is UGX150, 000(100,000 for SDF and 50,000 for CF). Then we can have a third and last category called, PROMOTERS (they pay minimum UGX50,000 annually, 10,000 as CF and 40,000 for SDF)

Who will receive and who will keep the money?

To enable a quick and safer start, I suggest that the parish Priest of Morulem Catholic Church be entrusted to collect and issue receipts to those who have cleared. Church is independent and we can surely give it our trust. A priest like Fr. Joseph Ochero could act the treasurer role easily. Other people with proven integrity like Mr. Okullo Oywek Simon Peter could be engaged into this arrangement and so we can be sure of first-rate accountability. Receipts will be given upon payment and a carbon copy kept for verification in December. More ideas can follow from this scratch. I suggest that we start off this in 2016, and to be exemplary, Am proud to say that my contribution is ready in the CORPERATE category.

More suggestions such as having an account for MOBODUF will come later if we can take this idea up. What I know is that some other school Old boys may take up this idea faster after reading this blog and yet my first target is Morulem boys men and women. How does this sound to you teacher? Please give me feedback before end of this month. God Bless You!

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DISPENSE Of God (Multiple real life,short stories interwovened)

ONE.

**** She deliberately tried to take my integrity for granted. God was watching.  ****

Paska Lamone sprung home, to our house in her usual lubricated temperament. She had not seen us for a couple of months. We missed her too. We missed her camaraderie. For long we yearned for her jokes. Those who know Lamone are conscious of those scrumptious-ribs breaking lies she cooks. In my heart, she remains special among liars my eyes saw since childhood.  This attribute aside, our friend Lamone is also that resolute black woman whose spirit to touch the sky one day will never get threatened by her present gale. On this particular day it emerged that Lamone had conceded a goal. As a young goalkeeper, she was clearly disturbed about the arrangement. However, her presentation to Tata’s other parent demonstrated that she was excited and happy to be with it and become a tick to the gunman responsible.

For over 20 months ever since she got into college, Lamone never came home to beat her drums and set us laughing as was before Tata was born.  Fortunate Tata didn’t like Lamone when she came to carry her. She feared and would yell when Lamone tries any touch on Tata’s handsome body. Tata’s ever-sweet smiles never benefited our friend although Lamone felt the itch of carrying and playing with our jolly, incandescent, beloved daughter.

The goal scorer is suspect number one in making Lamone turn her back to great friends of her childhood days, her time in elementary school and her moments during the journey to college. Our friend came streaming and springing like an American soldier. Without worry, I flashed her with a straight warm hug and notified her about her beauty anyway –whatever it is in other people’s perspective. We had a good time during this half day visit although Tata was unwell with flue and fever distracting her playful personality.

Being a casual moment at home with a family friend; we had everything to share; the tea and the tales. We watched a powerful old school movie together. My wife Naume Katau and I and Lamone enjoyed everything for the cool, dusty evening. My only destruction was little Tata’s condition, and because of her bad health she was out of the evening joy. In order to try and make her curve a smile, Katau shortly put a children’s movie which didn’t prick my daughter’s ribs this evening for even a second, - another reason my happiness wasn’t to the top. Like Katau has always said; when Tata smiles, my own smile doubles. For this evening my smiles were visible but not heart-pricking because my only image on earth was unwell.

Reader, Katau’s attributes are exactly as those in my 1999 dream about my wife. At that time, I met a friendly young woman in the street of London where a plane had dropped us suddenly when we escaped the most fatal rebel attack in my home district. The Ugandan president had sent planes to come and do citizen-rescue in our constituency.

The girl I met had numerous true friends. Friends who would stand by her at all moments; bad and good. Friends who would came home when they hear a fight or the usual family brawl had hit us. Friends who would respect people’s values, believes and opinion and would dare listen to all disagreeing sides in order not to pass judgment but achieve reconciliation and convergence in their comrade’s homes.

Yes, my Katau is a woman from that stumpy background. Her modesty, composure, affability, and religion hit me more than her physical beauty when I met her five years ago. She immediately brought my 1999 vision home with her hearty companions; Paska Lamone, Agness Apule, Patience Fatika and a host of other great girl friends she kept since childhood through primary school and college. I feel more protected every time Katau’s friends are home or out with her and or with me.

Lamone’s visit this particular evening would later unexpectedly bring unpleasant muddle to our house. When she was going back home, Lamone wished me and Tata, a good night and Katau walked her outside the fence as is common a practice with African women. Tata’s condition intensified with the absence of her mom and the two women consumed two hours and the darkness made things more difficult for the constantly coughing, sneezing daughter of the writer.

It was impossible to trace why mom stayed long because her mobile telephone was left right back home with us. The only person to consult was Lamone who didn’t answer her calls millions of times before picking and saying “I don’t know where your wife is”. What a shocking answer from a good friend who has just left home and taken Tata’s Mom right with her. 

Last week, an innocent engineer was murdered in the middle of this town and he had left home in the company of his friends. Continuous calls to Lamone’s mobile were either rejected or unanswered. Tata’s impatience was to the climax and she cried like both her parents had abandoned her, or as if she was an orphan. I called and called and called until she answered again and I barked at her unconsciously questioning why she says she is not aware of Katau’s location when they walked together. Lamone answered me by switching her phone off.

It was time to act like a mad man now and act fast. Tata had to join me in the ride on a hired motor-bike.” Let’s go Tata. Let’s go look for mom. Let’s try and find her now however dark and dusty it is. We shall treat the flue later. Let’s go my daughter. Let’s go.”

We got our friend along the road simply roaming home. Our mom was not seen. Our friend decided to run away from us instead of guiding us on mom's whereabouts. By running way, I got even more scared and more mad. Finally, I managed to catch up with her and, simply asked a kind man’s question in the presence of witnesses from all-over the world. I was kind, and controlled in my approach even though my emotions had skyrocketed. One thing that couldn't evaporate off my head was the need to always respect women and children in Africa. Nothing bad really happened. Mom after all was even safe and had simply taken a long route back home. I thought Lamone then merely wanted to take my integrity to the dogs if I could act like a dog at this point in time. Later, the authorities took it up for this night until the next day.

The next day, our good friend demonstrated mellowness, amity and religion by deservingly declaring to the state authorities that the writer did no really scuffle her. State people equally saw the thread of friendship, trust, religion, lenience and compassion that me and Lamone poured when they recalled the problem and thought of taking it forward. I think we were simply tried by the forces of this world this particular week in this semi-arid central town. I think God intervened immediately and all that this shit was headed for were meant to rust off immediately. At least Lamone and I had all the believe that it was done, and would not come out any more anywhere.

However, some good friend of Tata’s mom has nonsensically picked up this common worldly trial. She has carried it on and registered it as a project. The last time I realized that Tata’s only mom is being held accountable by her best friend in heart and on earth; I have planted prayer foundation stones to repulse it. So help me God! I know God will provide an answer that will be documented in the second edition of this book. I know. I know. I know. I know!

 

 

 

 

 

Adeu Bishop Henry SSentongo, Will You Come Back?

Rt. Rev. Henry Ssentongo during the consecration of his
successor in Moroto last year.                                          

SATURDAY didn’t get me on course, but the next day; –Sunday did as I attended prayers at Regina Mundi Parish as usual. There was a clear sign of the Saturday function in the heavily packed mini-Cathedral structure tonight. Boy, you could effortlessly tell that your blogger appeared to be among the few deep-rooted Catholics in this holy house that pitiably missed the momentous gathering the previous day on the same spot.  

 

Most of the sheep that didn’t miss out were visibly worked out. They looked easily attached already to the main issue and the main character of the week for this Catholic community. Theirs was now to simply attend his last service and take home his last words of inspiration. Mine was obliviously still more inclined on the procedure of our Catholic mass as usual and the admiration of the beauty of a bishop leading the Sunday prayer. News is power! Now I know.

Former Bishop of Moroto diocese Rt. Rev. Henry Ssentongo Saturday had a send-off mass which attracted a large number of Christ’s followers from within and outside Moroto. Flocks came from many a parish in Karamoja and other parts of Uganda and Kenya.  Details of the speeches, the gifts, the songs and blessings passed on just like running water under the bridge. This blog puzzlingly missed out in attendance because it kept focus on another picture in the world.

Nonetheless, it was equally beneficial to capture some of bishop Ssentongo’s key recommendations for the people of Regina Mundi parish and the people of Moroto as he led his last Sunday prayer in this Church. He will be heading to his retirement ground in Masaka district, but bishop Ssentongo made some powerful observations for the Christians in Regina Mundi Parish:

First, he heartily reacted to the wholesome words of appreciation by Parish Council Chairperson, Paul Abul. Mr. Abul observed that the bishop had more attachment to Regina Mundi than any other parish as he resided within and easily “shared mass with the parishioners quite often”. In response, the Retired bishop said, “Thanks giving is an unbroken chain in the lives of committed Christians”.

 

Abul’s other significant question of compassion, love and honor was captured from the songs of Pupils of Kalas Girls School who presented on Saturday. “Bishop Ssentongo you are going, will you come back?” I believe, the answer to this will roll home when our beloved bishop returns one day for a visit. He seemed determined to always come back as he clearly requested that his name be kept in the list of honorary parishioners of Regina Mundi.

The bishop awakened members of this parish to recognise their apparent advantages over other parishes within the region. He sighted the Cathedral status, and the strategic location of the parish as some of the key attributes that make Regina Mundi stand admirably aside.

He also looked at key institutions within the parish; Moroto Regional Referral Hospital, The UPDF Army Third Division Headquarters, The Central Police Station, and the Prisons. Other institutions he recognised included; Don Victorio Youth Center, the Primary Teacher Training College, Moroto High School and all the NGO offices within Moroto Municipality.

He pointed out that the army is quite an important institution to community although sometimes people might have minimal complaints on their way of work. He equally commended the service of the prison describing it as a destination where people easily get to “understand the human situation.”

Bishop Ssentongo advised members to coexist with the above institutions.  "Let us use and appreciate them". He encouraged internal excursions before running to other parts of the world. In his homily, the bishop encouraged Christians to work harder in life and ensure that what God requires of humanity is duly fulfilled however stiff it may be and however long it may take for man to see results of toiling for the Lord.  “The sacrifices we make to God today are sources of blessings and reward, we may not experience it now, but it comes” he said.

Last year, Italian born Rev. Damiano Giulio Guzzetti was sanctified as new bishop of Moroto Diaocese to replace Rt. Rev. Ssentongo. Whatever the different angles in telling the story of this man of God, Regina Mundi Parish Community will surely miss the service of Bishop Ssentongo.

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Chairman Noman, the Court Case, the Ethur and the Future

Mr. OCHERO Jimbricky Norman, the LC V Chairperson of Abim district last week got cleared by the Anti-Corruption Court sitting in Kampala over several horrible corruption charges that would otherwise ruin his political career and also probably hit the final nail on his integrity coffin and get him firmly exposed at home in Abim and certainly also presented unpleasantly nationwide and to the world.

As a proud Athur, I have always maintained that, Ethur are a very small group of people but are strongly endowed with far reaching dreams. We are only challenged a lot by a petty thing called disunion and a bizarre sort of individualism. That self- ego and the existence of some ungracious social snobs armed with that horrendous audacity to keep the small Ethur community shamelessly in shreds, forever and forever. This is a fact, and it’s too bad for us dear brothers and sisters, we need to know it and face it.

In a unified small community, the ideal situation would be such that when Norman got his bats on this discrediting legal inquiry, all eyes and hearts would turn gloomy and a strong fight to let him survive and have a second chance would prevail despite, - yes the usual diversity of interests along politics, along clan, along sex, along race, religion, name it.

Obviously this wasn’t the case in Abim. Boy, it simply couldn’t be. The people were bitterly divided; one side wanted the man effectively bundled off and jailed or even castrated, yet another lot wanted him safe and titanic, - whatever hell of theft he could have actually committed. This is just a pure demonstration of how painfully divided the small Ethur people are. Well, it was also proper for the Anti-Corruption Court to job-wisely and dig into the accusations as presented by the whistle blowers. NB: I think this was not really any politically motivated case as ‘Aunt Alexandria’ wrongly presented it somewhere on social media. I wish we stop such wrong assumptions that only divide us.

In my deeply held honest opinion, the better has surely happened to Brother Norman. Forget about my political orientation if you naively want to suspect! I can’t help repeating that we need to start behaving like Israelites who will always feel deeply snubbed when one of their very own is killed by their Palestinian adversaries, despite the thickness, vividness of the crimes of the Israeli victim.  Reader, you must believe me.

Again, important to note is that winning or losing a court case does not really necessarily mean that someone is clean or dirty. It is also about the strength of the defense /legal team or the amount of money that went into assembling the defense etc., etc. thus, when the accused escapes or loses, all he/she remains with is sorting out him/herself by trying to live a transformed life to avoid another problem because not all court cases can be worn and also not all can be lost.

Now finally Mr. Ochero deservedly sneaked safely out of the malodorous court case. All of us, yes, the whole of Thur ideally needed to breathtakingly come back home, sit our brother down and design a positive strategy to enter into living the second chance to clean life. I don’t mean he didn’t really live a clean life before, am referring to the life where people and or authorities will not take you for granted and take you for a fraud-star suspect even when you could be clean. That life where everyone can duly rely on what you do, what you say and truly believe in you. Then we can move on and let the bad past rot down deep.  

However, am saddened now by the scheme underway to celebrate this deserved escape of our brother. Already, according to sources, the egocentric forces have hoodwinked our protagonist into taking the political-opportunistic approach to commemorate this second chance achievement.

Word has sneaked out that the protagonist plan to organize a big rally where he will scrub repaper (kamlara) in his eyes to force crocodile tears out of his head and painfully cry with the name of his political opponent such that electorates will automatically shower him with sympathy votes in 2016 as they scorn the opponent and consider him a traitor. Boy, this kind of intrigue, antagonism, egocentrism, treachery and fraud display can only drive the Ethur people down lower and lower.

I believe that as district chairman for about a decade, there exist very good things that Norman has done for the people of Abim district. Those positives if well summarized and spoken out to electorates can smartly lift Norman up to victory instead of disgraceful reliance on baseless tricks. Indeed, some of Norman’s achievements include not only the peace struggle and the victory on the Abuk positioning of the district headquarters.

We can also mention his accomplishments in the health sector. His work for the education sector. The road maintenance achievements in all Sub Counties. The effective and selfless employment of genuine people from all areas in the district and beyond. Others are the youth empowerment programs (youth fund). The land conflict settlements in Alerek and Morulem Sub Counties. His effective fight and success against corruption attempts and mismanagement of public funds in the district etc., etc.  

The above are really huge achievements if well explained and we could - yes count on them to make people believe that we really can have our deeply loved chairman represent us tomorrow at a higher level. Then Ethur can decide for a better, steady future instead of wasting time instigating potential leaders to embrace fights, lies, mistrust, and disparagement as usual. What do you think?

 

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Moroto Regional Referal Hospital, a Story of the Cross and Golgotha

THIS blog couldn’t go idle for long any more. Not any longer. Friday night was the right time and the mighty Mt Moroto Hotel was the place. There was time! Enough of it.  Moroto Regional Referral Hospital affair.

The Last Supper: Outgoing Director, Dr. Alex Andema (L) and
incoming director Dr Nyeko (R) cut a cake during the send off

It was thrilling, enlightening, and also heartrending in the chill and with the occasional warm breeze, a natural blessing from speckled shrubs at the foot of the only Mountain in semi-arid Karamoja. Boy, where were you? You could have experienced this tear-jerking moment where members saw the transfer of power from one big boss to another big boss.

Hospital Director Dr. Alex Andema who has served in the 83 year old Hospital for some daunting years handed over the instruments of leadership to new signing Dr. Nyeko a surgeon formally saving lives at Mbale Hospital. Here was a send off as well as a well come in party for the two medical goliaths.

 

Allow me submit that both Dr. Andema and his successor Dr. Nyeko are demonstrably very intelligent human beings.  My impression about this partly came from their speeches on this particular occasion.

Dr. Nyeko’s long speech dwelled mainly on the need to have a strong team where support from his staff is essential. Where love and recognition/appreciation from the community within counts. Importantly, he shared his buoyancy to dare with the strenuous Karamoja environment and deliver to the fullest. He sounded grateful and yet you could equally tell that he looked awaken about the possible risk of carrying the big cross all the way to Golgotha.

My good friend Dr Alex Andema worked the audience with a nip of philosophy; He rightly said that there are only two places known for sticking to one thing. “It’s only in heaven where only good things are done and it’s only in hell where only bad things are done. Here on earth both bad and good things prevail, we only strive hard to try and do more of the good things than the bad things”, he observed on this cold night with a sip of cold Coca-Cola in a glass, not bear, not a Club. He was given a brand new Sumsung freezer in appreciation for his good service.

A send off gift: A sumsung Refregerator handed to the outgoing
Director    by Moroto  Resident District Commisioner,  Mr Pirir

Andema rightly noted that Moroto Hospital has made him a better person and he looks, walks assured that Kabale Hospital his new station will definitely harvest the fruits of his career development while in Karamoja. My appreciation of this man is for his humility, his admission that he experienced challenges and yet he also believes those difficulties are naturally unavoidable and can only be understood and minimized through openness and clear professional internal communication. I thought he is absolutely correct, and you reader?

Division Commander Brig Nakibus Lakara was on to make it clear- the realities that need to be altered.  Although it was party time, he couldn’t pocket the discreditable story of bedbugs reported in this giant government Hospital. Lakara observed that development in such a valued government institution ought to be holistic.

With the multibillion structures cropping up day and night, he begged of the managers of the Hospital to equally streamline services for the unwell who queue in for the free health services. Boy, this is how you expect practical men to speak. If this was America, Lakara’s signal could move mountains. Finally, in comparison he said the Military hospital in Moroto does better. Boy, Lakara did not deceive anyone.

Before that girl and before the boogie, Moroto Resident District Commissioner, Samuel Abura Pirir closed the door to speeches. Although Pirir wallowed and wallowed. He gave a perfect history of the Hospital and other health units in the whole of Karamoja. He couldn’t forget to mention the role of government and especially the NRM regime in making things better for today, for tomorrow and forever.

Outlining his achievement in health systems strengthening as a legislator then could simply make you feel that Pirir’s neck is still a Giraffe’s. He is definitely still looking into the future. He referred to the Almighty as, “God the creator” and in praise of a medical worker, he called that person,“God the repairer”.

One last thing; my good friend young, vibrant, Paul Odaka was voted best male staff, best surgical ward performer and boy, do you remember that brownish nurse? That nurse who simply smiles instead of quarrelling to pregnant women like most midwives of this world. That nurse who won’t blame ignorance for stupid mistakes on poor women. Do you remember her? That one that ensured little Mercy comes through to the World in perfect condition? She deservedly took home the award for best practitioner in the Maternity ward. Her ward –was also voted best section in Moroto Hospital.

LAST WORD: May God bless all those who dedicate their resources; materials, skills, prayers to protect the women and children of this world!

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Clarifying on Our Tribe's Name, Ethur or Jo-Abwor?

By Oscar Okech Kanyangareng

IN summary, we are Ethur. How did we end up with that name and how did the other names crop up?

First, we came direct from the remnants of the Luo in South Sudan, from among the Shilluk tribe in a place called TwenKidi. We got the Acholi were already in Uganda.

After reaching Acholi, one group passed via Puranga, came and settled in present day Kanu and spread to the rest of the hills. We didn’t have one leader but a dozen clan heads who met as a council and agreed on issues of the land.

One of the clans was led by Obwor. Obwor while in Acholi, met the Acholi dominant Chief of Payira clan and picked the practice of using regal instruments like drums, whisks, leadership stuff, dress code, royal seat etc. and -they came with it.

As a result of Obwor’s cultural practice, other clan leaders and the people started giving him more and more respect. Thus, all the people now came to be known as Jo KaObwor. As time passed on, the name got shortened to Jabwor.

Obwor's clan today is known as Epaebwor. We later came to be administered under Acholi during the colonial rule. It’s the Acholi who gave us the name Jo-Labwor as it is in their vocabulary.

The name Labwor therefore went on official record books of Uganda. Meanwhile, the use of the name Acholi-Labwor was just a survival instinct during the regime of Obote/Tito Okello in the 1980s, as a way of trying to identify with them (Langi/Acholi).

Uganda was so tribalistic then. The Langi/Acholi called us that way and we also accepted to identify with that name for survival reasons. But when the above regimes passed on, we withdrew from the name, though it’s still used by other Ugandans as the easiest way to identify us.

We need now to promote the proper identity of Ethur. Meantime, let’s also trace the answer to the question of how the name “Ethur” come about.

As I said earlier, we came in two groups. The the first group of Jo-Abwor came via Puranga and Kanu to Abim. While the second group of Jo-Akwa passed via Orom, Jie and settled around Mt. Toror. They later migrated to present day Nyakwae. It was after a big famine that they migrated to Bokora (present day Napak District) and settled along Nangololapolon, around Lopei Sub County.

After some decades, one time they went for a cattle raid. They were the main fighters yet when it came to sharing the loot, the Bokora cheated them. They protested and decided to come back.

By these decades, their accent and culture had somewhat changed -some of it picked cultural practice of the Bokora. They reversed anyway and settled to be known as Jo-Akwa with thier own ‘Abila’ (cultural assembly) from Bokora.

While the rest of Abim were Jo-Abwor with their own ‘Abila’ under Othem Abiiro, the grand, grand parent of both Jo-Akwa and Jo-Abwor leaders back in Sudan was called Thuri. The name ETHUR and JOABWOR was often earlier used interchangeably by our people.

Labwor and Labwor County was a creation of Colonial/Acholi and government administrators. Therfore, in a bid to unite both Jo-Akwa and Jo-Abwor, we now agreed, spearheaded by the late Hon. Omwony Ojwok, that we should be called Ethur and it was the late Hon. Obonyo Jabwor who was C.A. delegate who proposed it to be put in the the 1995 constitution of Uganda.

Now what we need to do is -sought ways to adjust to the new identity because the official records still refer to us as people of Labwor. The adulterated English version calls us Labworians and even our MP is for Labwor County.

Well, I can’t explain the above exhaustively but these are just highlights and we may need to talk about them in more details in other fora in future so that we can decide for the rightful name for our land.

Oscar Okech Kanyangareng is a veteran journalist, founder and  Execative Director of Pastoralist Poverty Frontiers (PPF) 

ABIM: It's A Leadership ‘Threat’ Question, Not Incompentence at All!

Abim woman MP Juliana Auma and First Lady Janet Museveni
 during a visit to   Arid-land Development Program beneficiaries

THIS is a letter. A notelet from home away from home. Boy, this is a one man’s outlook on the political and development questions back home. Thanks to Marshall McLuhan and his vision of the Global village several years ago.
    

In his book, The Gutenberg Galaxy: The Making of Typographic Man (1962) , McLuhan predicted media that would turn into “an extension of consciousness”.  The fact that today we easily can link up and share information, good or bad with communities whom we are connected to through the World Wide Web and the internet is a live spectacle of McLuhan’s dream decades back.

Thank God this technology has moved fast and getting even faster. Apparently, my own people in Abim district are aboard this contemporary international flight! Through Abim Development Forum (ADF), we are now able to share and seek views from all concerned fellow human beings from all over the globe. Sometimes, -yes we bite each other a lot but most times, we do it for the better. Boy, let’s keep this up, -Nothing to fear, nothing to fury us.

The hottest topic in any land of human beings can be related to nothing more than politics. Abim is therefore not excluded. Electorates always have their own deeply held believes on various leaders. You will not discover enough if you go analog today. We enjoy more through ADF and boy; several observations ought to be validated. The question of how to validate people’s issues can only hang on the sky. However, we can give our views and hope that most people will buy and sell to those who are yet to come home. Home – to the global village. We anticipate and pray hard. We pray that those with no www connections will one day equally join us as china keeps inventing more pocket friendly equipments for everyone.   

Back to the point! My people in Abim have blamed the dawdling development of the district on corruption. They are wrong. Some have decried the poor leadership of individuals. They are liars. Others argue that the central government is the problem. They are day dreaming. Could it be limited local resources? It can’t be. Not. No!

In my view, the real problem lies in the coordination, cooperation and trust for one another. I have always used the wheelbarrow theory to explain the development jumbles in Abim district. My consistent feeling is that all our leaders especially the elected ones have failed to uphold a string that should put them together in front of their electorates.

I thought our leaders should work in such a way that, when Hon. Michael hits a jackpot of development ideas and he is rolling it on a wheelbarrow to Thur soil, his colleague Hon Juliana smilingly supports him by pushing the wheelbarrow from the sides and vice-versa. Back home, Chairman Norman supported by his councilors and the district technical team would be pulling the wheelbarrow home by a rope. Sadly however, our leaders have not crossed this threshold. We are still far.

In Gulu, during the time of Norbert Mao as MP and Walter Ochora as LCV, you could see the true spirit of working together despite holding different political views. Ochora was NRM and Mao a DP die-hard and an ardent critic of president Museveni. However, when it comes to matters concerning their electorates, matters of the Acholi, issues of development, issues that pertains the national dividend for their own people, Walter and Mao would put their hands together and speak one language.

Similar disagreements on political ideas and complete agreement on community development strategies are also evident in most other parts of the Country. The problem with our leaders in Abim is -that burning personal egos. That high level of individualism. That spirit of ‘no one will manage me’. Unfortunately, it only puts our communities in tatters. It injures our share of the national cake since our representatives don’t work together to bring raided animals home. Well, the leaders get away with these mistakes; but, boy the grass suffers. The electorates suffer the consequences and it goes on retarding development of the district.

Look at these scenarios; at Morulinga where we would have expected a solid team to woo and challenge M7 on our issues like health; with the hospital falling asunder. The question of poor road connections. The facts about education bursary for our children etc. We seem to have not presented these critical agenda to the president as a team. We seem to have gone there to disagree with each other. The president can only afford to say; go back home and sort your internal glitches. When you are done, you may come back and compete with others for the national share. Even our in-house threats like issues of land; where neighbors have continued inching into our soil every day. Our leaders do not seem to cooperate to save us. One day we may wake up and realize we are living in someone’s land. Should we really keep this temperament?

The big question: How do we collect our leaders together to discuss and agree together on ways of working together to develop our district and Country together like the Americans do! Where is the answer dear brethrens?  Home@ www.owiny.blogspot.com