I am not now, nor have I ever been, a very politically motivated individual. However I find myself watching so many things in this world recently with a growing urge to add my voice to the masses protesting.
And... I probably would... if I had not learned time and time again that few things are won in arguments which could not be more effectively won on my knees.
The lack of satisfaction grows in Uganda as a 30 year long economically stagnant regime proceeds to rather sketchily "claim" power for another 5 year term. Amidst clouds of scandal, claims of voter bribes, claims of ballot rigging, and other forms of potential corruption and general incompetency... I can't help but wonder if the "Pearl of Africa" that I have grown to know and love will long keep itself from turning inward in anger at its own members who would sabotage any chance at a productive future.
I desperately wish for change in this area. Uganda has so many rich resources, so many willing and able workers, so much to offer the world in the way of forgotten beauty and intricate culture. I would wish nothing more for this country than to see its full potential of economic growth. And, a bit selfishly I might add, I want my son to have something to come back to someday. Something worth giving his time and talents to, something left in what is fast becoming a hollowed out shell of wasted hopes and disappointed dreams.
Then I see my birth country, and I have little more hope for them. We are riddled with unrest and disquiet. Seething with the tumult of a thousand issues that have long been repressed under the surface. Deep scathing wounds from hundreds of years of racial repression and the hate that it has bred in hearts that never knew the sting of whip on slavery's bare skin.
I hurt for the fact that my son will also know the cruel face of this tension as his skin color belies his heritage and he is assumed a descendant of an oppressed people. I hate that my country will teach him that he can't trust the police, that politicians just want power and fame, and that he should be entitled to anything he wants as long as he can complain loud enough.
I fear my choice in the next election may be between equally ridiculous buffoons. Already, we have come up with a system whereby we penalize people for simply having good health and not buying into medical insurance schemes. The system slants against those who want to work hard and be good upstanding citizens with morally responsible values.
At the end of the day, it all comes back to this:
I know no other form of combat against all the evil, corruption, and disillusionment I see around me than to cry out to the only one who can permanently and irrevocably affect change in our societies.
Less talking, more praying.
First lesson of being a mother.
