By Shelly Nambozo

21^st Feb 2011

I have been following the electoral process in Uganda in disbelief. While I did not expect an opposition win, because of the split in votes and the skewed playing field, I was shocked at the way Ugandans reacted as the results trickled in.

The Daily Monitor was fantastic in giving us live text updates to events as they unfolded. The social media forum they provided helped give me an insight into the minds of our so called “elite”. Their thoughts were shocking and I think symptomatic of some deep rooted problems we have as a country. It will take an awfully long time for these issues to be resolved.

First of all, many Ugandans believe the election was free and fair and peaceful. Leave alone the violence reported in the east – Mbale and Sironko which saw a journalist shot and a district police commander beaten into a coma. To many of these Ugandans, this is normal and peaceful!

They say the election was free and fair, but in the same breathe say they were scared by the sight of the thousands of heavily armed soldiers and armoured vehicles patrolling the streets. They didn’t seem to realise this is intimidation because we have become accustomed to this, so this is normal to Ugandans!

Many said they did not vote because they couldn’t find their names on the register and couldn’t be bothered to move around different polling stations in search of their names. “After all”, one said, “we already knew the result”. It doesn’t seem to occur to these elites that this is disenfranchisement, an electoral ill.

Worst of all they view the election as a tussle between individuals and or parties and not issues put forward by these players. Many of them viewed the election like spectators watching a football match. I’ve read many say “Besigye or Mao are arrogant, good that they lost. Museveni has shown them, let them accept defeat …etc”

To me, such statements show that these “spectators” do not even feel they are part of the race or the team. They do not feel like stakeholders in this country. They think it is the politicians who have the right to decide the country’s future. They don’t know that that is their job. They forget that “people should not be afraid of their governments, but governments should be afraid of their people”. And we can change the status quo if we’re serious.

The worst I read was of someone say “at least I got my brown envelop, these opposition guys gave us nothing”.

This election has shocked and saddened me, but it has also taught me an awful lot about our sad state of affairs.

I was just 8 years old when Museveni took power in 1986. I have grown up under the president. I was pleased when he announced free primary school education for the masses, but it is now beginning to feel like a systematic plan  to provide substandard education and  impoverish the masses so as to keep the population in check – the ultimate tool of repression.

Steve Biko said “The most potent weapon in the hands of the oppressor is the mind of the oppressed.”

The ruling NRM has captured the poor minds of Ugandans. Our expectations are disgustingly low, and many of us are not even aware of our basic human rights.

As an individual, the election has been a turning point. It has opened my mind. I’ve learned that my countrymen and women are satisfied with the status quo. They have become accustomed to substandard ways of life and don’t even realise that their  political leaders owe them more than dying of treatable/preventable diseases, potholed roads, hunger, jiggers etc.

We have come to accept corruption as a way of life that’s why we think it is OK for politicians to give us brown envelops during elections. We believe that driving cheap Japanese second hand vehicles and building houses in unplanned areas of Kampala is the epitome of a good life.

We don’t care that our children are born on the floors of Mulago hospital. We forget when we had to run around private hospitals in the middle of the night, begging doctors to resuscitate our loved ones, and the doctors demanded cash before touching the unconscious patient (this happened to a friend’s child).

We forget that while we are going through this, our leaders are jetting off to Germany to treat common colds or to give birth.

Our superficial brians have been captured by the government. We call ourselves “ELITE” because our children go to the most expensive private schools in the country, which we can afford because we get daily kick backs working in our corporate world.

Because we have learned to think of our own personal interest rather than the national interest, we are extremely happy and contented with the rubbish way we are being governed.

Sorry my dear elites, we are not educated because we even don’t know our basic human rights and therefore we can’t be bothered to demand them. We are the satisfied pigs that JS Mills talked about. We are too satisfied that we do not realise that we are worth much more. That’s why we describe a street full of armed men and battle armoured vehicles as “peaceful”.

The so called Ugandan elite are complicit in the crime of allowing Uganda to go to the dogs. A friend on facebook said “Isn’t it hilarious that while the rest of Africa dethrones dictators, Ugandans are re-installing one”.

History has shown that such systems are not sustainable. We drive past the slums and sneer, but when the tide begins to turn, it will be those unemployed boys in the slums who have nothing to lose who will burn your houses and cars. Ever wondered  why we have a high rate of armed robberies? I guess not.

I turned 34 yesterday, the day the election result was announced and I’ve learned that despite all the education we have obtained under Museveni’s government, we are not yet educated.

As the former UK Prime Minister Tony Blair once said, it’s only “education, education, education” that will liberate Ugandans. And I’m afraid with the current education system, it may be another three generations, because the NRM has captured our minds – the ultimate tool of the oppressor.

One of the Ugandan “elites” said on facebook “I thank God it’s all over, I can’t wait for life to return to normal”. Normal? My foot! Normal empty hospitals, normal congested, dirty and dusty potholed streets, normal corruption, normal road accidents, normal school fires.

Enjoy the next five normal years. Pakalast!

shelly.nambozo@gmail.com