I open my new notebook and gaze hard through the frosted window thinking what could I possibly write? It’s been a while; my mind is blank and my hand shaky. It is a struggle focusing, maybe am listening to the wrong music as Lorde screams Royals in my ears.
Down below the Madagascar coastline dissolves into the distance giving way to the dirty blue of the Indian Ocean a reflection of the gloomy skies higher above. It is three more hours to Nairobi and staring at me are two cans of Tusker lager and a tray carrying my half eaten food. Disappointing meal today, the beef lacked character a little rosemary could have done the trick with a sprinkling of paprika on the miserable potatoes.
In the distance the sky breaks into bright light riding on a sea of fluffy white clouds as the aircraft escapes the clutches of a dreary sky. It is like the breaking of a new dawn but I know dusk is fast approaching, chasing us from behind like a rabid dog. As we cruise over the Comoros archipelago I can’t help thinking about home, about Uganda. Like a vampire trapped between the safety of the twilight and the lure of abundancy that dawn brings we are undecided. The past haunts us but the promise of the future flatters to deceive.
Darkness slowly envelopes the aircraft from behind and I can’t help but pray that the past doesn’t catch up with us. We are at historical crossroads and our future will be decided largely by a populace that has known nothing other than the despotic monocracy. Today we stand on a precipice and history will judge our generation by the decisions we make on the 18th February.
It’s a week now since my boy made his first two steps. Should I cry, be scared or buy him a present? It feels like the first time all over again but these are monumental steps in his and my life. Soon we shall be walking to the football field together and before I know it he will be walking out of some girl’s life inflicting the first heartbreak of his manly life. I pray when he says his first sensible words he doesn’t call me uncle like his sister! Soon the reins of this country will have to be handed to his generation and the decisions we make next week should forever be a lesson in courage and bravery. The time to standup to the illusion of peace and stability is now. The time to be written in the annals of history is now. Come 18th the sun will stand still in the high skies until the battle is won.
Down on my foldable table it is three down and one to go, outside its pitch black as the aircraft slices through the palpable darkness to a beacon of light and safety far off on the horizon. Soon we shall land and I am now dreaming of the lounge, a hearty meal and Chivas in plenty; there is light at the end of the dark mass.
I raise my head and still I wonder what I should write about…