Death is so final. So definite. One moment you’re rushing to make that extra 3k from the lunch you distribute in downtown Kampala, you tell yourself that those sounds you’re hearing are exaggerations. It’s just tear gas. They’re probably using rubber bullets even. You need to pay the rent lest you become homeless. Your child needs those medicines that you can’t afford. If you don’t make that extra 1k today, what will those you left at home eat? So what do you do? You choose to deliver that plate of rice at all costs. Infact, if death comes, it will just be your time…sikyo? It can’t possibly be you dying today.
But, you don’t know that a bullet travels at approximately 2000km/hr when when its fired. You don’t know that that speed is approximately twice the speed of sound. So, when you hear the gun shot, you don’t know that it’s already too late to save yourself.
One minute you’re busy crossing the road from one busy arcade to the another and the next minute? The plate of rice you were carrying is lying on the ground, the potato chips you were so keen on delivering are scattered across the pavement. Your brain tissue is lying on a road at mini price. You have painted the clogged drains of kampala red.
You know what is unfortunate? I’ll tell you. It is very unfortunate that you won’t see the think pieces about you. You won’t see this country’s elite blame you for insisting on making that extra 1k. They’ll wonder why you couldn’t stay home. You wont see them asking you why you thought that 1k was worth your life. You won’t. And that’s precisely why i hate this thing called death. It won’t give you a chance to explain. So, what will we do?
We shall move your body from the road so that we get better angles for our online posts. The media will not acknowledge your death because the ones that shot you said they didn’t shoot you. We won’t dispute them because they will come to our dms and warn us to be careful about what we’re saying. The elite will say that the number of people who died with you was too few to make statistical relevance. The callous will say that that was such a stupid way of dying.
And me? I will write about you in a language you most likely wouldn’t understand but not for you. For those who think what happened to you will never reach their doorstep.