Monday 14 March 2016

Is it possible to generalize the fate of an Elite?


 SOUR GRAPPING

I read an intriguing piece meticulously written by Mr. Martin David Aliker, a former Gulu Mayoral Candidate. The article titled, “Acholi Elite Losing Identity with Voters,” was published in the Acholi Times on March 11, 2016. The piece made a sobering recollection for many of us who have been critical of the Elite and Elitism brands in Uganda as a whole. It also raised some fundamental question of whether it is easy to generalize Mr. Aliker’s personal narratives from an election gone berserk.

To start with, it is not in my place to counter-argue the personal experiences and perceptions of Mr. Aliker, given that his bravery and tenacity embroiled him in the politics of elite and elitism in a post conflict Acholi where literacy is low and poverty immense. If you have visited these places, there are two possible decisions one could make when seeking elective office; One, and most obvious, is to intellectualize and conceptualize the post conflict Acholi situation – giving it a good diagnosis, analysis and presenting a plausible campaign proposal. This would lead to articulations that reflect, and resonates with the vast needs of this region.

The second option is to project one’s self as elite and speak in tongues to one’s own detriment. This, to me, is an oxymoron – a political suicide of sorts.  One of the few experiences I have amassed in the many years of participating in Uganda’s politics is that there is no elite – however well educate, in whatever Ivy League institutions of the western education – who is detached from the appendages of peasantry. Mr. Aliker is not an exception. Therefore, to cut a tooth as an elite, and to run an election on the account of being elite, only advances the alienation from the mainstream and delivers the obvious –rejection, failures.

Already elitism in Uganda endures a very narrow proclivity in a society where 80% of the populations are rural based peasants intricately webbed with the 20% urban “elite”. Further, humility is equitable to civility, and yet people who are elite and well educated are paradoxically complex and humble from their public presentation. In fact, their simplicity and yet complex nature may be attributed to the alienation they endure with the majority peasants.

This may partially explain why, at the local arena, Dr. Olara is a highly respected brand and yet can hardly command the masses in an election, when compared to Hon. Norbert Mao. While abroad, Dr Olara is a touring figure, despite the contradiction of his natural size. Dr. Olara’s situation is explainable. He lived abroad way too long and he is viewed as too sophisticated. Few people know how to relate or socialize with Dr. Olara as a matter of fact.

That example and synthesis may not be satisfactory enough in settling this lifelong paradox. However, it at least points to a direction. It sets a ground for a null hypothesis, or some development of some theory that in the end, would allow us to critically examine Mr. Aliker’s assertions for validity on its own merit. From the onset, and as it is presented, it is not plausible and intelligible enough. An election where only Mr. Aliker ran a campaign as “Elite”, or claimed to be the “voice of elite”, does not surely represent whether his fate is definitive, and therefore generalizable of the fate Acholi Elite before electorates.

In addition, to state that Acholi elite are losing identity with the voters, one needs to examine two variables - elite and identity.  In Mr. Aliker’s case, his “elite” are western educated. We are not sure what “Western Educated” means because the formal education of Uganda as a whole is colonial structure transmitting western education. Therefore, anyone who qualifies to run for elective politics in Uganda is somehow, western educated. One is therefore left puzzled whether by Western Education, Mr. Aliker is referring to his recent personal graduate education in the USA. We need to get clarity on this matter. On the second variable, “identity”, Mr. Aliker does not expound on what this identity is or its roots and manifestations. Is there a distinct identity attributable to western educated elite in Gulu or in Acholi, and what is that identity? Unless we unpack what this “elite identity” is, one needs to read this article with a lot of prudence before accepting the grand generalization.

In traversing the terrain of local elections in Uganda, one learns to respect the voters. No matter where one is educated, the voter is the start and end of authority. Further, the locals conceptualize local government elections as their election. Educated people are elected to go mess up Kampala. Here, educated and qualified people are technocrats, not expected to meddle in their politics. The language one uses in elections allows one to win an election, or fail outright. Elections come with a lot of other drama. Money is now the mainstay and critical in Ugandan politics. From the onset, it appears that Mr. Aliker was outspent financially and probably outsmarted by peasantry ideology.

It is unfair to consider Mr. Aliker’s sobering recollection as a mere sour grapping for a loss not anticipated. It is a lesson learnt the hard way for which we should pay keen attention. Surely, setting a campaign platform that is divisive, setting elite against peasants, is petty and nothing short of suicide.

Mr. Aliker, perhaps, a little bit more explanation and analysis may be required before we should believe that elite are losing identity with Acholi voters. Perhaps, you have lost your identity with the Gulu voters in despising them, setting your USA - based education as the reason for your electability?

END.


Friday 11 March 2016

Die like your fake democracy

EULOGY 

When a supposed former leader imposes himself upon a nation
He only becomes a despised dictator
The people will resist with utmost silent vigour
The theft of their will for change, to be governed differently
That is an abomination never forgivable
As they look up to providence for solace
They wish that your end may come in haste
That this Nation, sewn together by a paste of bubble gum
Shall not be torn apart by anger of betrayal and frustration
To die like your fake democracy.

You dictator
It is a pity that you are contemptuous of our collective will
We are a peaceful lot with a poisoned mind
We reject you and despise you in equal proportions
We even sneer at you, with all your weapons and thudding boots in our hoods
Our solidarity and resolve to depose you is in-situ
The ticking time is all that matters, now
For, inside you, you know that you are alone,
Languishing at the departure lounge, about gone!
The People are not with you, and so are their will,
Withdrawn conscientiously in demise with with your fake democracy.

You pitiful dictator
Your boys in camouflage may subdue us and imprison us in our homes
But they only imprisoned our physical bodies, not our mind, spirit or will
Above all, we pay them to guard us, not torment us
But they torture us and dehumanize us, anyway
It is as if we procure these absurdity and pay for insecurity
However, the horizon is moving closer
The mirage of change is cast upon us, inevitably
Inscribed in your mind that we have envisioned a peaceful Uganda
Reborn with a prospering democracy, all without you.

You flagellant dictator,
When you are all gone, we shall bid farewell to your corruption
We shall celebrate the end of your nepotism
We shall cure ourselves of your sectarianism
We shall lay the skulls of Luwero to a proper rest
We shall console the Northerners and seek for reconciliation
We shall restore equity in our social systems
We shall educate our children and create a better future for them
We shall be a free people!

You inglorious dictator,
In our mind, you are history, gone before February 18th
Never again shall you be the President, you are a watershed dictator
Never again shall your legacy matter, it is now like snow flakes
Never again shall you be free, imprisoned by guilt and dishonour
You will need that body armour to protect your conscience
Your best companion shall be that bullet-proof tunnel
Your words shall be empty, never to move a hair on a man's head
Your presence shall evoke rejection of a vote thief
You are condemned
To die pitifully like your fake democracy!

End.


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