We are distracted from our real problems

My mind kept going over the various events of the day, as if trying to resolve some sort of anomaly because there seemed to me to be a major disconnect between what I was reading and hearing in the media and what I had seen that morning.

Uganda faces several challenges. We are a poor and underdeveloped country. Our development figures may be improving but they are still awful and, not being a big fan of statistics, I do not wish to depress you by rehearsing them here. Images tend to speak much louder than words or figures for me and on one rainy morning this week, I saw something that has stuck in my mind and caused me to think long and hard.

It was about 7.40 a.m. and the rain was coming down, hard and persistently. I was driving to work and was caught up in the traffic, which tends to be a little heavier and slower on the rainy mornings. The cars were crawling at human walking pace. Many people were taking shelter on the shop verandahs along the sides of the road.

A few security and hardy men and women were braving the rain to walk along the side of the road, some walking fast enough to go past the near stationary cars. I was looking ahead, listening to the radio and making a mental map of the day ahead, when a pedal cyclist, riding past the passenger side of my car caught my eye.

He was dripping wet from the rain. He was pedaling a little laboriously to defeat the slight incline in the road and weaving to avoid the sharp potholes along the side of the road, which were now filled with fast running storm water.

Riding pillion on this bicycle and holding on tight to the cyclist was a little girl, no more than 6 years old. She was wearing a neat little pink and white school uniform and had a little school rucksack on her back. She was soaked through to the skin and the green school sweater that she had pulled over her head was doing little to save her from the heavy downpour.

The traffic started moving a little faster so I was able to follow and observe the cyclist and his passenger for a while before they turned off the main road. Many thoughts went through my head as I watched the cyclist and his poor little passenger. I wondered whether this was his daughter or granddaughter.

I wondered whether they had set off in the rain or whether they had just been caught out by the downpour after they had started their journey to school.

In either event, I wondered why the cyclist didn’t choose to wait out the rain at home or take shelter on a nearby verandah as the other pedestrians were doing. Was the headmaster or headmistress so strict that a parent would rather risk his daughter contracting pneumonia than incur their wrath for being late? I wondered how long it would take for the poor little girl to get warm and dry, seeing as even her sweater was soaking wet and it was going to be a cold grey morning. Would she be able to absorb any of the lessons that morning in her discomfort?

I felt like I should have been able to do something to help this little girl. I also felt guilty that there was nothing that I could do. It’s true that being surrounded by a lot of poverty, we sometimes become jaded to it. It is also true that this little girl, who was privileged enough to be going to school, with a smart little uniform and shiny black shoes, was probably much better off than many other children across the country.
As I drove on, I listened to the news.

When I got to the office, I took a few minutes to flip through the dailies and scan the headlines as well as skim read a few stories. In the course of the day, I also took in and contributed to some debates on social media. That evening I listened to a political talk show as I struggled with traffic (again!) on my way home.

My mind kept going over the various events of the day, as if trying to resolve some sort of anomaly because there seemed to me to be a major disconnect between what I was reading and hearing in the media and what I had seen that morning.

What had all this that I had read or heard, got to do with solving our basic challenges that are typified by the little girl who was riding to school in the rain? How will this or that Bill presently before Parliament, and taking up numerous column inches in the newspapers, help get this little girl to school, warm dry and ready to learn on a rainy day? Is Uganda’s biggest problem right now the sexual orientation of a certain priest or whether Catholic priests, who are neither press ganged into holy orders nor held there against their will, should be allowed to marry or not?

For me, that little girl made me realize and regret quite how much of Uganda’s daily political discourse is actually a waste of time. I guess sometimes, we all need a stark reminder of the simple and enduring truth of James Carville’s catchphrase, “It’s the economy, stupid.” Whatever it is that we talk about, it should always be about or linked to helping uplift the condition of our people. Everything else is an expensive distraction.

dfkm@afmpanga.co.ug
Twitter:@dfkm1970