He whose name I will not give mileage on my blog, did this. He maliciously stuffed debris in the flower beds around my house. This criminal continues to receive protection from those who should have arrested him and held him accountable. That is the reality of many Ugandans, sadly. We find ourselves under the mercy of criminality and criminals in the Uganda Police Force and as well as in the Office of the Director of Public Prosecution (ODPP). The ‘police to prison pipeline’ as the Uganda Law Society President, Isaac Ssemakade, refers to it, is impossible without collaboration between corrupt officers in the Uganda Police Force and the ODPP. And with existential knowledge I attest that this tragedy of criminality within the justice law and order sector is for real. Needing urgent attention to break this cycle of suffering for thousands of Ugandans.
I was home to add flowers on to my late father’s grave and to remove debris that gundi oli had maliciously collected from where my builders had poured it and then stuffed it into the flower beds of my house.
As I did so, planted more flowers on my late father’s grave and removed debris that were deliberately and maliciously stuffed into my flower beds, Papa Odolot came over and spent the day with me.
In his usual form, he made my day.
He shared plenty hilarious stories about his childhood and his interactions with his elder brother, my late father. In fact, growing up, papa Odolot was more like an older brother to us.
The story that I liked the most from that day, and which had me roaring with laughter, was actually triggered by gundi’s malicious act of filling debris into my flower beds.
Papa Odolot shared how one time, he came home from school and found his two brothers, my late father and papa Omio, doing something or rather about landscaping and creating a road sign.
So, the story goes, that papa Odolot chipped in and he got the job done better.
Apparently, my late father appreciated papa Odolot’s efforts, but also intimated to his other brother, papa Omio:
“You see this young man (papa Odolot), what he has just done is not consistent with the grades in his report card.”
As we laughed so hard, papa Odolot admitted how shitty his report card was. He said in Ateso:
“Konye einer abeit esiliana a repota cut. (to tell the truth my report card was really bad)“
Papa Odolot (aka Mr. John Francis Kagodo) at his late brother’s grave.
Papa Odolot is the youngest of my late father’s brothers and he is one of the two of my late grandfather’s sons who are still alive.
He is a trained teacher who taught in Kitagobwa, among other schools, in those days when teachers were to be respected or was it feared … Those who know know.
As a teacher, he is popularly known by his legal name, Mr. John Francis Kagodo. His late mum, one of my late grandfather’s many wives, was a Mugwere and I think that is where the name Kagodo comes from. I am not sure though.
We had good quality time that was mutually rejuvenating for us all.
I think that this is exactly what my late father had hoped for when he requested that his grave to be part of the compound of my home.
A home which I inherited from my late grandmother, his mother, she who I am named after. A home, in fact, which he built for his late mother within his own home.
Spending time with papa Odolot, at my late papa’s grave or resting place, if you will, was healing and rejuvenating.
What legacy are we leaving that will heal and rejuvenate our loved ones left behind?
As for me I cannot underestimate the power of stories to keep us feeling connected with our ancestors.
Let’s Chat…