'Old Women' to pay for Bukedea Comprehension School grammar

SATIRE | "Who did this? Who? Where is Chris?" barked 'The One Who Is Not the Problem', otherwise known henceforth by the acronym Towinp.

The problem was the inscription on the monument or whatever. It read "Bukedea Comprehension School". The school is Bukedea Comprehensive.

Towinp was seething with rage. At the moment, she looked blue. Those lingering around thought it was the reflection of the suit of the man next to her or that her old party colour had betrayed her.

But it was rage.

"I'm asking who did this and I must get the answer," she said, stressing every syllable for good measure.

"The engraver," said a feeble voice nearby.

Towinp shook her head measuredly. She was aware that an engraver is a skilled worker who can inscribe designs or writing onto a surface by carving or etching.

This work that had just been launched was surely lacking basic skills.

At this point, I started to quietly leave the spot lest someone pointed a finger at me. My twin intuition said the "Old Women from Kamuli" would soon be fingered for this gaffe.

Surely, people have been receiving billions in CSR and should do better than that. Something tells me this comprehension engraver had also picked his cool billion and was basking at Nasser Road.

This was supposed to be a great day, a day we could shed a tear of gratitude and show loyalty to the First Family.

I left Bukedea straight for Kamuli to look for the "old women" who seem intent on haunting Towinp to the grave.

The first one I got on Sunday morning sitting in L-shape grinned to reveal the last standing tooth in her jaws. She must be in her 90s but she still had a very clear voice.

Eseza is her name. She didn't know the difference between Comprehension and Comprehensive and for that, she became the prime suspect.

I read her the Miranda Law and she really grinned some more instead. Finally, she called for her granddaughter and said something.

"Jjaaja Mukadde is saying, have you come to buy coffee?" the granddaughter said.

I was confused. So I asked if she knew Towinp.

"Towinp?" granddaughter asked.

I was determined to take at least one old woman from Kamuli with me to Bukedea. Surely, that would earn me a good invoice to the Director of Finance for another CSR quid.

A text message came that the engraver - or joke of an engraver - had been traced and that he had said he received the wording exactly as he carved them in.

"Ask Jjaaja Mukadde if she wrote anything on a piece of paper in the recent past and gave it to an engraver," I said.

Granddaughter looked at me quizzically and shook her head.

"How can someone who thinks my pen is a thermometer know how to write?" she said.

I had hit the wrong old woman. I went in search of another toward Kaburi Stand this time.

That side, the road to Buyende starts, so probably the 'Old Women' with a bone to grind against our The One Who Is Not the Problem lived.

The first one I got did not have a thumb on her right hand. Her left hand was amputated.

The next one told me she had gone to Namasagali and knew how to write. She even heard of the 'Old Women' talk and was intrigued that today's generation can be "so crass and grass".

"You're looking for the Old Women from Kamuli?" she said laughing out loud.