Having had my reservations when organisers drew Uganda and Kenya in the same group, I now appreciate the overall impact on Cecafa of having the two rivals tango in the opener Saturday. Where this regional tournament is concerned though, the contrasting fortunes of Uganda and Kenya have got me thinking about priorities.

It is long since Kenya were deemed regional giants; I cling onto memories of the larger-than-life figures of Mohamood Abbas and John Bobby Ogolla as imprinted on my psyche by the booming voice of Mzungu Kanga from a small radio my schoolamates and I used to converge around on the once famous rocks of Makonzi Boarding Primary School.

Abbas and Ogolla, two of the greatest this part of Africa has seen, starred as the Harambee Stars accumulated some of the five Cecafa trophies they boast today. That only amounts to less than half of what Uganda has managed – a whopping twelve.

On hearing the less-than-excited reaction of some Ugandans when The Cranes won the last edition, Lawrence Mulindwa angrily retorted that those who didn’t like it should migrate to Kenya. After calming down however, I imagine the Fufa president can understand why Ugandans are asking for some perspective and more ambition.

Winning Cecafa back in 1989 was a matter of desperation and a cause for nationwide celebration the magnitude of which I had not seen before and haven’t since. Yet it has become more important in recent times for Uganda to transition promising talent into fully fledged internationals (Abel Dhaira, Godfrey Walusimbi, Tony Mawejje, Musa Mudde, Moses Oloya and Emma Okwi spring to mind).

We need to continue that trend while spreading our wings, lest our rivals sneak from under our clutches, if they haven’t already. Consider this.Rwanda (1 Cecafa title) have been to the Nations Cup and a World Cup (Under 17) in our period of regional dominance.

Ethiopia (4 titles) are going to South Africa 2013, and Sudan (3 titles) were in Gabon last time out. Without setting Cecafa alight, Kenyans Denis Oliech and McDonald Mariga have reached levels in Europe only Ibra Sekajja can match.

Mariga’s little brother Victor Wanyama, the slayer-in-chief of the mighty Barcelona in the Champions League recently, is currently on every big club’s shopping list …Lets us win Cecafa again, but let us use it in the right way, for the right things.

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In under a fortnight, Uganda will for the first time in ages host a major tournament worth its weight thanks to the power of television and corporate sponsorship.

As the hosting honours for regional championships became the preserve of Tanzania and the continental/global tournaments literally pitched camp at the Amahoro in Kigali, in Uganda the people designated to pursue them chose to get embroiled in a hideous fight for domestic control.

That is not to say that in the heat of battle the said ‘warriors’ lost their admirable ability to pick up the scent of a quick buck (it is central to their every conflict after all). It is just that hosting those tournaments didn’t actually make financial sense, until now (Kenya’s protracted but failed struggle to host this particular Cecafa edition spoke volumes).

The advent of this Cecafa however presents some eye openers for our warmongers (for the lack of a better word) and the rest of the football fraternity sucked into this never-ending melee, deceived about its merits and blinded to the realities of bigger picture.

Never mind the depths to which we have sunk thanks to the altercations between the Uganda Super League and our federation, Supersport and Bell have continued to sponsor the USL but will now ‘jump into bed’ with Fufa, via Cecafa, to stage this one.Two issues stick out in this arrangement, the respect for contractual obligations and the ease with which multinational corporate bodies will rise above relatively trivial politics to conduct real business.

Since we want to turn the game here into the money-spinning monster it is everywhere else, we have got to borrow a leaf from these successful corporate bodies on both the above-mentioned fronts.If we stubbornly insist on fighting a win-at-all-costs war until we have one bloodied victor standing over a vanquished corpse, the price to pay for those involved, the nation and the game will be too high I am afraid.

From sport through politics to economics, those around the world who are more schooled and successful evidently operate on the basic principle of survival and equilibrium which supposes that we don’t have to like each other to work together.It is an argument friends and foes alike deem idealistic (even naïve), but one I strongly believe in.

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I had my lunch, a sumptuous buffet at Matteo’s lest you ask, rudely interrupted on Friday. “Hi. I like your show, but you never talk about our team. This Sunday you will have no choice,” a young Ethiopian man said in halting, albeit comprehensible English.

I had been impressed that the Ethiopians had scored all those away goals in losing 5-3 to Sudan in their Afcon 2013 first leg, but as I mulled over the intruder’s words my appetite was being whetted by Uganda’s own prospects since the Cranes hadn’t done too badly in Zambia either.

It didn’t quite happen, yet again, but testament to that Ethiopian’s prophecy no wait is too long if you believe and do things right; further proof was provided by Cape Verde, who to reach their first ever finals had to do so in front of 60,000 screaming Cameroonians and a team led by arguably Africa’s greatest ever, Samuel Eto’o.

Having seen Uganda’s young team out-play the African champions for one and a half games, witnessed Godfrey Walusimbi set the tone in the shoot-out as the boys took turns to knock in superb penalties under untold pressure, raise hands to the sky to salute their creator, wave to and assure the crowd, congratulate each scorer in the centre circle and encourage the next in line to emulate, it was clear that they wanted it badly and actually believed it was finally their time.

This is not to toast to mediocrity and failure; it is chastise the rest of the nation for letting those boys down. The administrators most of whom are in it for the money, a few for the fame and almost all for a bit of both, and who will use those boys to their visibly selfish ends; and the fans who despite being loyal on match-day do little else, never bringing the leaders to book for their methods and output, all too willing to follow blindly to the point of proudly donning shirts proclaiming ‘Our Saviour’ for a man who didn’t make a tackle, score a goal or save a penalty, people who use the phrase ‘typical Uganda’ with glee.

When the Cranes didn’t beat Kenya last year I broke down for selfish reasons, I have always wanted Uganda at Afcon in my lifetime. When Ochan’s penalty was saved on Saturday I was shattered for the boys, not for myself. I have changed my attitude, we all should.

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My mother left this earth for a better place on this day twenty years ago. She is of course the greatest woman that ever lived, and I am afraid Mother Teresa, Florence Nightingale, Oprah Winfrey, Margaret Thatcher, Aung San Suu Kyi and the all-powerful African ensemble of Dr Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala, Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, Nkosazana Dlamini-Zuma and Wangari Maathai pale in comparison.

All it took for me to reminisce yesterday was the DJ belting out Cyndi Lauper’s timeless classic ‘Time After Time’ on my car radio, consuming me with a strong urge to do something good in her memory. It is the year of anniversaries in Uganda, none bigger than the 50 years of Independence we mark today.

While we like to stand up to the adversities of our world, go off in single-minded pursuit of our life’s ambitions, be the men that our traditions, cultures and the pressures of society demand of us, we are only human and it is okay to let sentiment and emotion take over every once in a while.

A great many Ugandans are overjoyed at the significance of today, and yet many others are angry because of the issues that still surround our politics, economics and governance.

Either way the feelings stirred up by the occasion have evoked action, and even for the aloof (plenty here too trust me), a day like this at the very least causes reflection. Playing in what has inevitably taken over from previous others of similar magnitude as the biggest match in the country’s history, the Uganda Cranes would be best advised to use the moment as a powerful tool.

The irony has never been lost on me that the millions who crucified David Obua at the altar of patriotic rage were condemning him for having and showing feelings. The reality is that the players who step out at Namboole on Saturday have to wear their hearts on their sleeves and want this badly. As he ran we could not tell, but phrases like ‘did this for my country’, ‘even if I die now’ etc betrayed the emotions Stephen Kiprotich had used to break a 40-year hoodoo.

Saturday’s opponents Zambia used the painful memories of that 1993 plane crash to will themselves into the history books earlier this year, and it would be more than just ‘something good’ if the Cranes borrowed a leaf to put right 34 years of wrongs.

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For Bobby Williamson what was visible was despair, but beneath the surface must have been that eerie déjà vu feeling as Chris Katongo stole in to score Zambia’s solitary goal in Ndola Saturday afternoon.

In interviews prior to the first leg of this 2013 Nations Cup qualifier, the Uganda Cranes coach had underlined the importance of concentration. And yet in a cruel quirk of fate it was a momentary lapse that let the reigning African champions through in an otherwise impressive overall performance that could have, with a slight twist, produced a truly famous result.

That truly famous result can still be achieved where and when it will most matter, and Williamson’s previous choice of words is a clear indicator that the preparations for that are going to have to be more mental than physical, the understanding of the dynamics of the mission more crucial than the formations and tactics deployed on that day in October. It is not just the goal that Uganda conceded that makes this point, more so the way the Zambians dealt with the scoreline and the clock.

Having strutted confidently at the start as they probed for openings through the thick, multi-layered wall erected by an ultra-defensive Cranes, the Chipolopolo gradually allowed seeds of doubt and desperation to creep into their game as the minutes ticked away and prospects of a resounding victory grew ever slimmer.

Perennial campaigners at highest level and therefore a team that had been in this situation countless times, the Zambians still fell prey to circumstances as whatever game plan Herve Renard had spelt out went through the window; the substitutions seemed hurried, the trademark sleek passing moves continuously interrupted prematurely by desperate shots from a long way out which were never going to bother Dennis Onyango in Uganda’s goal. With more than just the customary two weeks between legs, Williamson has plenty of time to pick his words carefully and wisely to impress upon his boys what the game in Namboole holds.

This is not a two-goal hunt as the mathematics rightly suggest, but a quest to take the lead at all costs. If the Cranes go ahead in the return leg, the pre-game drilling must have prepared them to exploit one of two inevitable reactions – persistent attacks which will leave Zambia vulnerable to well executed breaks, or mental disintegration and an invitation to go for the jugular.

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Whatever frustrations Bobby Williamson and his boys must surely have, they ought to know that flying under the radar is not a necessarily bad thing. Even by our astronomical standards, the squabbles that have rocked Ugandan football have hit altogether new heights.

So, like has been the case with so many other wrangles before major international tournaments, the timing of this latest one must stink where the ordinary Ugandan is concerned. When I first logged in to scribble, my intention too was to dive straight into the melee, but I changed my mind as soon as the password had been accepted.

I of course have my take on the whole saga and dropped more than just a strong hint on television on Sunday, but back to that later because it is not about to go away anyway. First to the Cranes who can’t wait, because by the time of the next column they will have got in the first 90 minutes of the double-header standing in the way of a first appearance at a Nations Cup finals since that year which we have grown tired of referring to, 1978. We had grown similarly weary of having to point to the solitary golden moment of our Olympic history, 1972, for fear of coming across like the proverbial dead clock which told the right time at least once a day.

Now Stephen Kiprotich has changed all that, and we can finally lump two gold medals together and throw in our silver and bronze collections to sound like a proper sporting nation. The Olympic gold drought was even longer than the Africa Cup of Nations wait, and Kiprotich did it against a chaotic backdrop, a scenario which should inspire the Cranes.

When many celebrated being drawn against Zambia, I warned that we were not equals and should instead embrace and exploit the underdog status that clearly suits us more than the over-confidence which had us prematurely declare victory over Kenya last time round. Circumstances have conspired to set the perfect stage, for the Zambians reading about our bickering must be rubbing their hands with glee, the same way those Kenyan marathoners did until the 37km mark in London.

Play with intelligence and calmness, defend with discipline while retaining the confidence to smell and snap up opportunity and good fortune, and the Cranes can ‘Kiprotich’ the Zambians.