Election violence does not advance electoral democracy
By the time this column is published, Arua Municipality will have an elected Member of Parliament. I once went to school on the fringes of the municipality in Ombaci College, 3 km from town, not very far from two national assets, the Ombaci Satellite and Mast, and Arua Airfield.
Arua, then and now, was a vibrant town, full of all sorts of big and small trades. Petrol-boys, who wore big pants that they pulled up above their belly buttons and waxy oily shirts with a silken-like material called legeza-worn loose dominated the town. The women favoured kitenge wrap. On market day, Wednesday, Ombaci College was closed.
Literally, the entire school ran into town for supplies. On other days, school closed at 1.40pm. We were not supposed to go to town, but we went anyway. Most students “parked” their bicycles in the school dormitories where they were mostly safe, something then and now impossible in Kampala.
My decker-mate Baker Kakondah, was born in Nebbi, about 90 km south of Arua. Kakondah had this incredible thing about him, he was slightly over 20 years old, a full grown man, but had not come to Kampala. Kakondah always said he would travel to Kampala on the back of his academic prowess, and he eventually made it to what is now Makerere University Business School.
A classmate of mine Richard Oloka with whom we arrived from St Mary’s College Kisubi, eventually took to the skies in Kenya. Richard Okuti Boroa is a theme-based entrepreneur in town, Anthony Ajiku a media and sports personality, and so on.
In short, life was full of many possibilities despite the obvious crushing poverty that surrounded us. At the time, Terego County was mostly grass-thatched huts where many people spoke English. Women with babies strapped to their backs travelled long distances to fetch water.
At school, we were lucky to have a borehole. Our school masters, now all dead, the Mr Abiriga, Mr Andresile brought the world to life through 90 minute lectures pointing to Ombaci’s stellar academic record to thrive us on.
The beauty of the town, Rhino Hotel, excellent food, you had to go to town to eat matooke and garlic-spiced beef, friendly people were quite something.
One thing probably missed at the time was that opportunities in a thriving environment were shrinking at the time.
A long war in the DR Congo and now South Sudan has shrunk opportunities even while government was betting big on infrastructure in Arua. Arua’s notoriously cranky power at the time shut off at 9pm after three hours and we dutifully used hurricane lanterns.
Today, hydro-power struggles due to unpredictable water levels at Nyagak dam. Fast forward to these elections, Arua has elected its fair share of radicalised individuals. In 1994, as their delegate to the Constituent Assembly, Zubair Atamvaku, later became highly radicalised.
In 2001, they elected Hassan Godi, a 20 something year-old, who was later convicted of murdering his young wife barely out of her teens.
In 2016, they essentially elected a clown to Parliament, the late Ibrahim Abiriga, a colourful individual with links to the underground world. Abiriga’s education background was spotty, but yes so was Rehema Watongola from Kamuli, who scored at least a couple of “Fs” ahead of her parliamentary re-run.
In 2018, Arua has produced a very competitive by-election.
Any of the top four candidates will be an improvement on this old ghost that is incompatible with Arua’s status as a regional city. Its’ a pity that Arua’s big moment in the national spotlight has been ruined by gunfire that killed at least two individuals.
The courts keep on equivocating and justifying use of force.
They use colourful language to essentially equivocate on the sanctity of human life. These dead bodies are not collateral damage, they are creations of the courts of judicature. No candidate has been convicted of electoral violence. What a shame !
Mr Ssemogerere is an attorney-at-Law
and an advocate. [email protected]
