Our most excellent Ugandan, like everyone else in the nation, has something to say about Uganda Airlines. He has directed all gavumenti official’s who want to fly do so aboard our new Bombadiers. Thus spake he, so thus shall it be.
We don’t argue with our dear Ruler, we just complain after he has spoken and ask, for example, how shall this play out, given how difficult it is to travel with government officials on a thing as simple and basic as a tarmac road?
You know how they are. A single human gava official needs to move in several cars, as if this single human gava official has more than one bum.
There they come, thrusting themselves into our evening stress with fanfare of frustration, flashing red and blue at the sky, bewildering passing birds and blaring that guttural rabied-goat-chocking-on-its-
No, the sentence ends there. I wasn’t going to say, “As if they think that… and then state what it is they probably meditate on. They don’t think. If there was any application of logic and reason to the apparent facts we would not have siren convoys in rush hour traffic.
If a government official believes he/she/whoever can’t travel on the same road at the same time as the rest of us, said official should travel at a different time, or make a different road.
I shall not name it, but there is a bar close to my workplace that suddenly became very popular among very small and very squealy teenagers. My guess is that it serves delicious soda and fruit juice because, of course, alcohol is not sold to minors in Uganda.
I, as E. Bazanye, aka Jjajja Snacks, aka Professor emeritus of the old school, feel I am too distinguished to be seen on the same pavement as these infants. I could get a schoolbell and walk while ringing it, and let the pavlovian reaction to the sound do the rest, but I realise it causes much less trouble to just pass before 5pm. Five pm is when they climb over the fence at home and scuttle to the bars.
Oh wait. My Generation Z research intern, Lashatra, has just informed me that they don’t climb fences any more. They just stroll out of the house saying, “Laters fam!” to their dad. Generation X parents let them go, probably because we don’t want them to damage our fences the way we wrecked our own parents’ fences.
The second thing government officials could do is update the education system in the nation and then enrol for refresher courses in geometry because nothing breaks the heart of a loyal die-hard NRM supporter like me more than seeing grown adults whose academic qualifications have been vetted by a state-appointed body still trying to force two trucks and two 4WD vehicles through a road barely one and a half lanes wide that is already clogged with desperate taxis, bodas and my cars, each of which is being piloted by the kind of moron every Ugandan seems to become when you give them a steering wheel.
Furthermore, what do you expect that siren to do? Call angels to descend upon the earth and lift the civilians off the tarmac, thus creating a path for you? This is a Uganda traffic jam. Our traffic jams are like bad marriages. They only get worse the more noise you make.
Also, angels are in Opposition parties, not NRM. My local pastor told me that. Heaven is a DP stronghold.
So, hard as it is to travel with such people on land, how are we going to travel with them in the air?
Shall we have to duck under the chairs when the Minister, MP, or Assistant Deputy Vice Secretary Yes-man Brownnosing Flunky boards the bombardier? As the honourable one heaves up the aisle, heralded by army muscle-men blowing hunting horns, shall we mere mortals clamber into the luggage compartments or duck under the seats until the great one has passed?
I think the wise solution would be that if gava officials are going to fly Bombardier, they should book the entire plane for themselves. I am sure they will have no trouble filling up 75 seats, as bloated as our cabinet and parliament are.
But that is a wise solution, so it is unlikely that it will be implemented.
Us plebeian commoner wretched peasants will have to scurry around to find ours dishonourable seats while the officials bestride the narrow aisle like collosus.
We call upon gavumenti to hear our pleas. Get them their own plane.
