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    Alex KigongoAlex Kigongo

    by PENDIE WASSWA on 14/07/2014 in AFRICAN STORIES
    He came in the night on his mother’s back
    Like a ghost swept beyond the dead,
    Escaping to my homestead for shelter
    Skinny, thirsty and haggard, I fed them.
    In the morning, full to the brim, he fought our husbands,
    Death, we mourned, has befallen thee
    We cried, we still cry
    Shame, he blurted, is the fate of the weaklings.
    With food in his rotten grumbling belly, he conquered my homestead.
    From his rear, he passed a poisonous gas
    It stunk of contagious poverty, greed and corruption
    Some called it peace, others a revolution
    Our men dead, our children hungry, with a handful of women too frail to cultivate our lands
    We relied on the guest
    He played the mind game
    He glared at us assuring us of his priceless security
    I bring peace; you can sleep while I burgle you
    We grinned from ear to ear
    While we slept, he dismantled our homesteads, our kingdoms, our rights
    Yes, I have brought you peace.
    What more did we want?
    Little did we know
    That the guest was here to stay
    He shipped his clan from afar
    We welcomed them as culture teaches us
    Now they roam my village, they are in charge, they are his allies
    Hardship is for the host
    Our elected elders in big offices are lessened to begging
    They sell their souls in exchange for brown envelopes
    The guest throws his leftovers at them, they gladly lick his plate
    We still thank the guest for bringing peace
    We are stupid
    The immoral guest has corrupted our men, our women and children with his infectious stench
    For while we slept, the immoral guest stole my Uganda.

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