Bad Black suffered racism to prove what an African woman really is
Posted Sunday, October 27 2013 at 01:00
She must have kept some of the money and now they cannot manage her,” I heard my maid saying excitedly. “My mum used to say that only poor people get jailed.”
They were obviously discussing Bad Black and reports that she had been arrested in Rwanda and then that she was actually not in jail. This was getting irritating and my immediate concern was to tell these girls that the law must be upheld at all times.
“That Bad Black of yours is courting more trouble than she realises,” I said as I approached them. “By jumping bail, she now certainly has to serve the full four years inside without a single day of rebate once she gets caught. If she had quietly remained in prison, like some higher profile people are doing, by now she would be nearing release and the gossip machines would have forgotten about her.”
“You are telling us how thing should be, but we are telling you how things actually are,” quipped the minister’s maid.
“Fine, but I am telling you this worship of dirty money will soon end and we shall have a society that respects honesty and hard work,” I responded, but did not even sound convinced with what I was saying myself, and the laughter of the girls that greeted me was testimony of the hollowness of my optimism.
“But mzee, these days you sound so entertaining,” said the maid, and I wanted to break her neck, but I let her continue, “How do you expect the worship of dirty money to stop when it starts in the courts where judges grant bail to convicts? What is the meaning of bail anyway if someone can get it after being found guilty? And why should you expect anybody to respect that funny version of bail invented in Uganda?”
“You mean only fools hang around after being granted bail?” I asked angrily.
“Bail after conviction is what I am talking about sir,” answered the maid. “Whoever gives you bail after you are found guilty is really saying that look here, your case is so bad that you can’t win the appeal, so let me give you a chance to bolt now. Grab the next plane out of town. In the case of Bad Black, I think whoever granted her bail was angry at the cruel racist abuse she was subjected to, and decided to offer her a chance to take off.
After all, if she needed medical treatment abroad, the court should have first asked police in the country where she was going that she remains under guard and only boards a plane bound for Entebbe after treatment. She was not to access a passport until her case was finished. There are so many common sense measures that could have been taken by the clever people paid to ensure that your law is upheld, to ensure Bad Black remained in the country.”
“Just tell me what you mean by Bad Black being racially abused,” I challenged.
“That mzungu just wanted to demonstrate that a black girl cannot make sense of money given to her to improve herself and her people,” she said firmly.
“How, you mean he was just conducting an experiment?”
“Of course!” almost screamed the maid. “If he was really looking for a female investment partner with whom to develop the so-called real estate business, did he have to go to Speke Road to find one? Are investment partners found in brothels in his country? Why did he think Uganda’s best brains can only be found whoring on Speke Road at night?”
“But maybe he primarily wanted a woman, and one he could involve in business…” again I sounded unsure.
“Is that what he told court?” countered the maid. “And anyway, if he wanted a woman, what fraction of Ugandan women are to be found at Speke Road? And as a millionaire investor who makes sensible enquiries, was he referred to Speke Road by Uganda Investment Authority? Let me tell you what a sensible investor looking for a woman partner for his business would have done. He would have advertised and made enquiries at a place like MUBS.
There he would have got a choice from a few thousand more beautiful, more intelligent and certainly cleaner Ugandan girls who at least know the theory of managing business to begin with, but that would have spoilt his experiment. So he went to Speke Road to prove that an African woman is a hopeless creature.
Pure racism. What he did was like giving a million shillings to a six-year-old in P1 for pocket money.
Of course he will buy sweets for ten thousand, a crate of soda, 10 packets of chips and still find he has not even spent a tenth of the money. So he puts his friends on a taxi and they hit town where they would learn to drink alcohol, smoke cigarettes and I don’t know what. Then you would prove that the children from his family are hopeless. That is how Uganda was abused using Bad Black.”
I did not wait for her to add an ‘I rest my case’ so I took off.