An Untimely

Death

Mistrust in the Family

These are memoirs and questions about how one simple woman’s death revealed the cracks in to a

family I thought i knew

Table of Contents Chapter One ............................................................................................................................................ 2

Chapter two ............................................................................................................................................. 4

Chapter three .......................................................................................................................................... 6

Chapter four ............................................................................................................................................ 8

Chapter five .......................................................................................................................................... 12

Chapter six ............................................................................................................................................ 14

Chapter seven ....................................................................................................................................... 17

Chapter eight ........................................................................................................................................ 20

chapter ................................................................................................................................................. 23

Chapter One

As a child death happens and it goes away like the wind that passes us each day that we live from

one direction to another and it’s gone just like that. All you hear are muffled voices from adults as

they emphatically rush through suitcases hardly ever touched looking for what I later got to learn

are burial clothes. Longer, larger around the body and so long they sweep the ground with a wrap-

per around the head to keep. My auntie used to carry a long a head scarf with beads at its edges

then a thick jumper to keep warm that we always jokingly referred to as grandmas sweater since it

was so warm even in the coldest of times it always felt warm. To protect her feet she wore thick

mountain climbing boots and always carried as few things as she could since many times she cried

those at the burial site always shopped her things.

After packing up all she needed then came the frantic phone calls accompanied with runs and back

by me as I ran to the airtime scratch card retailer shopping airtime cards that was quickly wiped

off her phone in a matter of seconds. One time she was calling a distant relative who I only knew

by face, then the annoying one who when she visited never really wanted to leave as well as the

other who always came with her kindergarten of kids which always ended up me vacating my bed

to accommodate the extra small bodies littered all over the house.

At one time it she was praising the deceased as having gone to early and how dearly they will be

missed even though I can count off my fingers the times she would have killed him/her if she had

the chance. However most times she was consoling the party on the other end of the line and

that’s what made her different from the other members of the family as I knew. She always had a

line dripping off her sleeves to console the other party on the other end. Words like ‘God gives

and he takes’ said out with a punch that it not only calmed the party on the other side but also kept

them quiet and dried them of tears that I could see were pouring down the phone.

After everything was done and setup, she then turned to me and read from a familiar script of the

do’s and don’ts when she would away. As she read specific instructions like don’t open for any

random knock apart from mine, ensure you close the door early enough blah blah I couldn’t help

but sing along with every line that she let slip off her lips. It wasn’t like the burial was some kind

of vacation running two weeks depending on the burial site it never took long than one night. She

was gone today and back the following day however all the neighbors knew and we give an SOS

to stay on their feet just in case I made a scream in the middle of the night calling for help.

When all was said done once she turned her back to me I always felt a since of independence. It

was something that was like a mini prisoner leaving jail after a couple of years with the whole

house to myself. For the first time in a couple of weeks I got to watch cartoons the whole day and

night, watch the TV programs I always wanted to watch without having an adult voice watching

over my shoulder with talk of

‘Emma, isn’t that program too old for you’

Its talk I hated so much since these free to air channels always announced the next program to be

of certain age limits only for you to sit through over 120 minutes of TV time without any kissing

or profanity that the channel had warned you about in the beginning. All those characters ever did

in the whole show was talk and talk until you literally fell into a deep sleep only to be woken up to

the sound of the blue sky peeping through the wood cracks or auntie shoved me to prepare for

school. TV was my biggest companion living in a house of few two people most of the time of the

year even over the ‘big days’ like Christmas and Easter and when a show was done and dusted

there was nothing not even a peck on the cheeks of another character which was twice disappoint-

ing than the whole beware this show is filled with profanity.

Alone in the house I shared my sleep between the chair, my bed and the flour depending on what

creepy idea crept into my little head at that instance as I killed the time as my auntie went to see of

the random dead person from far off.

Chapter two

Burial growing covered in that sea of activity always felt like some kind of get together of the fam-

ily members exclusive to only the adults of the time. It was like everyone had to be there to the ex-

tent at the burial people did mental roll calls of who attended and who never attended, those who

did dodge with apology and those who didn’t. the few times I did attend a burial apart from the

comical crying that was resonating from each corner of the home I had another duty to get to know

everyone young or old who did attended the burial.

My auntie moved from one tend to another introducing me to each person in attendance explaining

this is your auntie on your mums side who happens to also be your mother. The link was very con-

fusing as the fact that somehow I was supposed to call a stranger ‘mother’ given I didn’t even have

a letters conversation with them. This literally went on for hours or minutes depending on how

‘important’ the deceased was in the family. The family was not your nuclear one with mother and

father but a collection of human beings with different characters who somehow could plot their ori-

gins to one man or woman who happened to live a couple of years ago.

Despite my indulgence still the party was an only adult affair and my place was reminded to me

with every step I took. I was instructed by my auntie to keep with my age-ments at all times or near

our sleeping quarters. These weren’t even real quarters but areas mapped out according to your re-

lationship with the deceased family. It’s these maps mapping people basing on their relationship

with the deceased that finally made me understand the reason why auntie always packed toiletries,

a bed sheet and a blanket. She claimed those attending the burial were sometimes left to fend for

themselves in the night which made me wonder she couldn’t simply let go of attending these many

burials given we weren’t being paid at all.

Watching many of the adults made me look at adults in a very different way that I wasn’t allowed

to see them before. Tears ran down there old faces in big torrential river like streams yet I grew up

thinking adults never cried others fell down to the flour like they were possessed by those biblical

demon possessed characters. Some raffled their clothes as though undressing while lamenting how

unfair God was to take away their dearest loved ones, one woman I remember was one who used to

come to visit with a permanent scarf on her head that sometimes I wondered if she was born with it

until at grandpas burial she ruffled her clothes ripping a button on her gomesi revealing a socks like

breast, rolled herself on the ground while wailing the deceased name.

While the adults did the crying all the kids in the area did the wondering what is going on like me.

Adults moved around in well-choreographed movements as they went about their roles at the burial

site like well-trained actors all covered in muffled conversations so discrete like it was not to be

heard by the kids in the area. As some men did the digging of the hole, others reportedly cleaned

the deceased body an act that was more like taboo and I don’t remember any child creating a vivid

story of what goes through cleaning a dead body. Everyone’s story somehow had a vaguer begin-

ning than the biblical creation of the earth all we saw was a brightly painted wooden box that my

auntie nudged me whispering that’s the coffin containing the dead body. There was mini stampede

at the grave hole as the box was laid down into the hole and in order of importance everyone had

chance to throw a few dust particles into the grave as a sign of good bye until the biblical second

life when we would meet them again.

After this came ‘you are on your own’ rule was applied with full force and the pre-burial solidarity

was thrown to the wind. The mapping area where we had spent the night now looked like an aban-

doned camp house with people moving in and out of the area with their belongings until next time

when the SOS call for another burial was echoed over the family burial broadcasting service.

Chapter three

As I think about those events and the amount of activity that normally takes place at a burial site

was also the fact that she was trying to cover the amount of childish showing off guilty of adults

that I thought was the reserve of we the children. As the families stood by brought together by vis-

ible grief of the deceased they did it in a visible pattern that was demarcated along the lines of

wealth, job standing and financial power.

Growing up most of these power lines were hidden behind a carefully constructed diplomatic pow-

er wall that my auntie had built over the years through her interaction with many of the family

members that to-date I don’t know most. While she smiled with most of them despite their acts de-

manding for respect she loathed most of them. A thought of one would lead her to recite a whole

essay of the things she would want to do to them but somehow she always never mounted the ener-

gy to do it.

One incident clearly stands out like it had just happened yesterday. Grandpa had being a pioneer

civil servant in Uganda’s post independent Uganda had taken up the habit of all men of the time

were doing. They married a wife at the work station that they were posted with every new posting

by the government came another wife to the family and so forth. All this despite the fact he some-

how remained a loyal member of the Catholic Church and was on first name basis with the local

priest with whom he frequently shared swapped banter back and forth over a warm pot of alcohol

brew malwa. These cross country romps had led to a divide in the family tree with several branch-

es sprouting out of one stem which went alittle in explaining why unlike most families in the area

that boasted of members with same head shape, nose and skin complexion. Ours was a United Na-

tions of different complexions in one family with those having very small heads to those with huge

ones, other members were too dark while there were those who were so light skinned they looked

like misplaced sheys. However like all family branches there was always that one lineage that

springs and tries to eat up the other.

Funny though these lines were split along education lines although wealth was frequently used as

bait to make one lineage of the family cross to the other side of the family divide. On one side was

the an uncle who hadn’t made it far in education but through diplomas, certificates got from here

and there as well as some forged at Nasser road had managed to amass a substantial amount of

wealth. He came with an army of followers who all didn’t do well or go far in education but some-

how through long stay in the city, a willingness to do all manner of odd jobs had seen them amass

quantified amounts of wealth. They were like the workers of the family doing all the odd jobs but

never being gaining the praise they wanted for anything they did.

Then on the other side was the well-educated lineage with their army of kids who were regular stu-

dents of some of the best schools in Uganda. They always harbored together with their own line of

conversation and views of life. They spoke of acquiring the latest phones, particularly didn’t have

businesses but were working well-paying jobs in and around the city amassing huge business pro-

files to the extent they could afford long holidays that brought everyone to view what’s new and

what is not. Despite all the luxuries they came with, one thing they did that annoyed the other side

of the family was the frequent way they picked on the semi-educated line to give them jobs on

their projects. It wasn’t common even at a young age to hear tales of I worked on this building

while he spent time looking for a wife in country X said out with such spitefulness one could feel

but see the envy that they had on members of the other side of the family.

The third lineage carried every one of the other useless line those whose relationship needed a

whole essay of its own on how they happened to be members of the family. They never talked

about grand pa the way we did but were always members of the family and never attended any

family gatherings since no one would ever recognize them at all nor their input. They were a mix-

ture of the modern learned who were just emerging from university and there definition of family

had moved away from extended to a more nuclear small family holding hidden away from what

they called the troubles of the greater family. When they married there not everyone was invited

and believed everyone had to earn the right to be invited unlike the educated class that saw mar-

riage as a show of power, success and the larger the wedding the further the wedding news spread

which in turn forced the semi-educated to copy the educated and saw success as doing what the

educated were doing. The third linage was reclusive never engaging in family politics about who

inherited what, did that or proposed all this and that. The third linage recruited its army of soldiers

from those who had suffered frustrations of not being able to join the other two super linages and

saw breaking away as their only way of survival.

All this played out initially behind the smoke screen well built by my auntie well hidden from my

innocent eyes with guises meet your uncle. She never let me get involved with any of them with-

out her supervision and only let me meet those that she deemed not to be foot soldiers out to re-

cruit for whatever linage that existed. Looking back to those many years I can’t believe how all

this politics played before my eyes yet I somehow didn’t manage to see them at all.

Chapter four

I will be lying if I said I knew grand pa more than anyone would given he died at age 70 and I was

a paltry 11 years old. All I can tell was the time was around Easter unless my memory serves me

wrong. He was a classic product of the post Uganda independence civil servant whose life reso-

nated around the love for the bitter drink. His work clothes at least from what I saw from the 1950

style black and white photos littered everywhere in the main house in the village was him in a Ka-

unda suit with well-kept mini afro that had grey very much visible on his head. Other pictures had

him holding babies posing with women dressed in round 1960s fashion round dresses with small

belts in their tiny waist. There were no wigs back then every girl at least speaking to the pictures

they all had short cut hair and those who had long hair had tied it into a pony tail at the back of

their head. The scarcity of cameras was visible as all set of 20 photo frames were taken in a studio

setting with the camera man facing the people his photographing. There were no funny poses that

are synonymous with many facebook photos that are common today. The photo backgrounds were

always dull and blank except when the camera man got very innovative and place a half drawn

curtain behind them posing like they were facing the now infamous Idi Amin firing squad that I

have frequently read about.

His shoes were always polished black and he walked with a gait only familiar with someone who

had worked with the government before especially back then when the government actually

worked. He frequently complained at how the government service had been reduced to a den of

classless thieves who didn’t even have the decency to at least button up when they messed up. The

civil service to him was a perfect litmus test of what’s wrong with post independent Uganda. Now

that he was retired, all he did was reminisce about the times gone by and if he was not visiting his

grandchildren indoctrinating them about the need to take malwa as he whistled his way deep into

retirement. That was life for him until he got an injury after one of those lazy nights taking malwa

with the priest one evening when he got at cross roads as to what was needed to revive Uganda’s

fledgling economy. The priest was calling for a divine intervention something which annoyed

grand pa so much to which he replied with a barrage of examples detailed to the extent that at one

point as he was demonstrating how divine intervention he stood up but slipped up and hit his thigh

on the sharp hima built cement verandah. The yeast in his system initially kept the pain building

up in his thigh at bay and it was conversation as normal till late into the night.

Next morning however the story had a different taste to it as he un usually delayed to leave his

bedroom. Initially talk was he was applying the final touches to another theory of what is wrong

with society today when grandma walked into his bedroom just in case things were as bad. He

threw her one look and asked her what she was doing in his bedroom, did she have her own to

tend to since he hadn’t called for anyone to tend to it. Besides on so many occasions it’s not actu-

ally grand ma who cleaned his room but one of the young nieces around the house. As the days

progressed his mobility around the house reduced day by day however his ego couldn’t let him

visit the nearest sub-county doctor. Till one day an uncle from the educated side of the family

came by an announced to find him seated at the corner of the verandah that had now become his

favorite corner of the house. This uncle spread the news back in the city between both camps

however what initially looked like a just cause was span around in all camps into a sinister plot

using grand pa as a pawn in their power struggles.

The most vocal member of the semi-educated fronted his camps solutions first asking why there

was a need to claim grand pa was sick yet he had not sounded any SOS call to anyone. He had

every ones phone number and his phone a Nokia block was always pampered with airtime credit

that kept pouring in weekly so much to the extent grand pa would simply hand the phone to his bar

mates to call whoever they felt like calling. On the other side was the educated who kept crying for

the need for grandpa to see a doctor. As the arguments kept flying left to right so was time flying

away on grand pas hopeless situation then in the heat of the argument the leader of the semi edu-

cated stood up and boldly declared the only doctor grand pa would be closest to seeing would be a

witch doctor and specifically the family doctor.

Back then in rural Africa each home had a small round hut located strategically at a certain corner

of the house where members of the family gathered to attend traditional religion and each family

had a family doctor whom upon death through the use of rituals chose who inherited the duties of

leading the family through these religious affairs. This belief was so entrenched in the family set-

ting that any occurrences of un explainable resulted in consultations with the witch before anything

of modern medicine. Depending on the doctors diagnosis his word was implemented to the letter

until it was proven not to be working at all then secondary measures like seeing the doctors in

white gowns was nominated. It being a family tradition that grand pa had also guiltily practiced

before it was concluded he had to see the doctor. This created some discontent that even in the

modern era witch craft would reign supreme. Many felt betrayed by the other members of the edu-

cated lineage who with all the negotiation skills learnt in school they would somehow corner the

semi-educated to let grand pa visit the white gowned doctor.

Animals were quickly slaughtered to appease the gods to give the right answers to explain the lat-

est condition that grand pa was going through despite his noticeable disagreement his old crackly

voice wasn’t going to win against the energetic youth he called his sons. One test in the dark lonely

spiritual hut behind the main house then another led to nothing despite grandpa sipping a concoc-

tion of herbs, smoking multi holed pipes and reciting alien scriptures nothing seemed to work. The

educated mean while on the kept pointing at their watches waving time was running out how ever

the semi-educated kept insisting no one had the right to pressure the gods in working their magic

and called for more time.

Fed up with the finger pointing a prominent member of the educated one time under the cover of

darkness had smuggled grand pa from the village and brought him to the city under the disguise of

doing him some shopping at the district market. It had been a long time that grand pa had left

home and the herbs he was on had taken a toll on his health for the worse so when the chance came

for him to see the other side of the road he willfully jumped in. What started as a simple trip to the

district market had seen him driven to the city without even a set of changing cloth whatsoever.

Straight on arrival in the city his first stop was the missionary built Rubaga hospital where the di-

agnosis took a while before it sank in for all parties concerned.

It had been ages since grand pa had last visited the city so when he arrived he couldn’t make out

most of the places by the road as Kampala city had a notoriety of losing its road signs and roads

being renamed overnight. The city as he knew it back in his hay day had changed drastically so

much he wondered whether Kampala was still its name or that had changed too. The big Indian

owned duukas that had monopolized his civil servant days had been replaced by storied structures

that grand pa referred to as buildings that are carrying each other. The roads too had become more

narrower and filled with potholes a sight e claims was un-imaginable during his time since the city

traffic was heavily regulated in numbers of who entered and left the city unlike now when the mo-

tor cyclists boda bodas were out numbering both passengers and taxi drivers alike. The only place

that had refused to change as he noted was the towering Uganda House in the heart of the city that

was littered by Kaunda clad men with envelopes in their seventies. He claimed the only thing that

had changed was the fact is that those who used to work inside now line its corridors however its

splendor and pomp christened on it by President Milton Obote glowed louder than the more expen-

sive structures put up by the current government that few months down the road were in need of

repair. He also noted that the medical system though more efficient wasn’t necessarily better than it

was back then when even the poor would easily afford it.

As he spoke about the once familiar city now alien to him the doctor stormed into the room with

clip board in hand to which grand pa exclaimed you are doing to calculate my blood sample with

that thing.

‘no no…..this has your diagnosis results’

And just when the doctor was about to ask uncle to follow him out to receive the news grand pa

back

‘I am not a small boy you will keep hiding the truth from tell me now so I die in peace’

Chapter five

Grand pa lay on the bed looking at the roof like any moment from now it would fall on his head

any minute. The news from the doctor had hit him so hard that he wouldn’t understand himself

leaving him lying on his bed aimlessly wondering what had befallen him. His thigh had it spent

any more week in the village was going to be amputee to prevent the infection from spreading to

every part of his body. The infection had been caused by his thigh leg cracking on that fateful night

with the village priest but due to the amount of alcohol in his body and his well-watered habit of

taking it signs of it had not showed. Along with this was the fact that he had left farm work a while

back and spent most of his time seated leaving the leg rest most of the time.

The crack in the born had in the process created pass which had attracted a viral infection leading

to the muscles in the thigh to slowly but steadily rot away. The mere thought of having his leg am-

putee had shaken the very core of grand pa because most times he always prided in being a pioneer

civil servant in Uganda a field where you were never expected to suffer from poor man’s ailments

like disability yet here he was staring at it in the eye. The diagnosis burst his ego forcing him to

heed to everything the doctor said even double checking to ensure those around had got the in-

structions clearly. Within days he had become some sort of cyborg with metals sticking out his

thigh while it hangs at ninety degrees from his body to the roof. The metals were stainless steel

aluminum bolts, screws and clamps that he freely let us touch the few times we were in hospital to

visit him. He made it a point to recite the story to us every time were there at how the doctor had

screwed all these into place while we watched to ensure the doctor didn’t make a mistake.

Meanwhile back home the semi educated were still refusing to concede defeat pointing out that the

witch doctor was on course to discover the ailment the white gowns had pointed out. They vehe-

mently refused to fundraise for grand pas medical bill and only sneaking into the hospital when

vising grand pa as they saw it a duty of the educated linage to care for grand pa until he was back

to full health. His stay in hospital didn’t take for eternity as earlier been judged and he left the hos-

pital with in a couple of months however something had changed for the worse in comparison to

the old grand pa as we knew him. The doctor on top of diagnosing him with the cracked bottom he

discovered grand pas liver had been eaten away by the amount of alcohol he had been drinking

over the last few years ever since he had left the civil service. The doctor discovered it was work-

ing at less than 40% and the rate was steadily falling which left him with few years to live unless

he changed his ways.

This new set of facts had not changed grand pas look on things on life but the way he saw how the

family was set up with one front up in arms against the other. Initially he had fanned it on in many

of his drunken stupors as a means of encouraging hard work between the family members however

being an old man he could help but note it break the family into large power swathes aiming for

each other’s throats. What was worse was the fact that he was even more powerless to do anything

about the trend of events as none of the children would listen to him anymore. In the heat of the

moment grand pa had been guilty of manipulating one side to benefit from the other materially

from his children instead of waiting for his annual tithe from the children that came once a year

hence any form of meddling would make him be shut down by threats of revealing such Machia-

vellian like dealings he had pulled off unseen.

Thus instead of call for peace between his warring sons instead he had turned cold and delusional

about events taking place in front of his eyes. He spent most of his time in silence and all to him-

self under the big mango tree. He stopped the random visits he used to make to his various chil-

dren’s homes even when he was given a special invitation he dug into himself to turn it down

somehow. At one family gathering he proclaimed that all those who needed him should visit him at

his home since he was an elder not a beggar. This to many was interpreted to him being an old man

that had finally met his match and had been forced to actually retire unlike before when a party

wasn’t a party until he was invited to have a say on proceedings.

Within a couple of months rumor moved around town that grand pa had passed on in his sleep

however many thought it must the other lineage trying to ruffle the other. It was not until the news

was confirmed by the village priest did people start to actually take the news serious that the old

man had really departed from us. At the time he passed on I was at school and was dragged out of

school to attend my first actual burial and this was done specifically to draw blessings from him

and nothing else. As family members were supposed to move around the body of grand pa lying in

the open coffin then using stuff made from banana stems we rubbed grand pas ice cold clean shav-

en fore head while mattering some words I have no clue in what language they were in or what

they meant. After his body was laid to rest in its grave as proceedings were taking place a new

power struggle was taking place behind the scenes and it and a little known neither loved woman at

the center of it all.

Chapter six

From the laws of physics there can’t be a vacuum in certain places and so true is it when applied

to the human workings too especially in the spheres of power and relationships. With grand pa

gone a cloud of delusion hang over the family creating an arms race of who would rise to the

question of the day and lead the family forward. The two warring lineages played who breaks the

ice first. None showed visible interest in the position of heir to the family given grand pa was a

learned man there was this suspense that screamed we all know there is a last will written tucked

away in one of those many Kaunda suits handing well placed in his closet. This cloud of suspense

acted as an anti-dote for any reckless behavior no one wanted egg face if it the damned document

was dug out of the dungeon.

It was a ritual for the deceased’s room to be cleaned upon his death since the culture of turning

homes into museums was the reserve of the white race. As the scramble and partition of his old

suits was being shared over a toss of a vowel, one young man discovered an old musana A5 size

envelope wrapped in a piece of paper. Written in faded ink was a single line of wording,

‘to my children’

The young man out of excitement ran out of the room towards the other elders who were outside

handing it over to the eldest of the educated who was favorite to be named heir however no one

dared mentioned it. The announcement of the discovery spread like bush fire and everyone wres-

tled to view the contents of the wrapped up document. Encouragement was made for him to un

wrap and read whatever what was contained inside it.

A quick roll call was made and with everyone seated in a semi-circle and the leaders of each line-

age seated strategically he seated un wrapping the document of its content so carefully not to tear

a letter of the contents. He took off the translucent polythene bag and placed it on the ground after

verification by everyone present like it’s done during Election Day. He then unfolded the paper

along its edges with the first one being un wrapped four times before it gained its shape. On the

inside was another paper that he unfolded like the one before however this time this was stapled at

the edge with one two rusted staple wires. Due to poor storage the words had a slight fade along

the folded edges with words now looking like gibberish which he held at both corners and showed

it to the crowd with the words,

‘this is all that is there members’

He was then urged to read the wording on the paper to which he did read initially he took a long

sigh then his face lit up when his eyes landed on the underlined heading that too was faded like

the bulk of the paper.

‘in the left corner I can see the date which reads 25th /01/2000…’

He then held the paper at its edges to flatten it before continuing to read from the paper with eve-

ryone glued to his every ear like he was the town magician pulling off another trick. Flipping the

page towards the crowds in the heading you can see clearly reads

‘FINAL WILL’

With no identifiable lawyer on the family books it was agreed that the family gather and the will

read out aloud for all to hear and digest its content instead of wasting money hiring a lawyer.

Written in bold blue ink that had resisted fading over the years of poor storage in that polythene

bag. He the n started reading the long essay that came below the heading which started off with

introductions and greetings starting who he was, the family he came from and the number of chil-

dren he had as well as those we never knew about but he did. The next paragraphs were the most

important at least by the way adjusted their stiffly placed bodies to keenly pick up whatever was

written. This paragraph spelt out the amount of wealth and how it was going to be shared between

the many children waiting to devour it.

‘I have 14 acres of land stretching from muzamilus home down to the river bank and stretches to

the forest and to the east it borders the great railway that runs to the west of the land. Atop of this I

own a storeyed building in the central business district and they deposit rent money three times a

year on account number 1236674999345 with two signatories me as well as my first born. The

kraal has a 120 zembu cows with 60 goats at the last count of writing this date…..’

This went on for a long time as he outlined his wealth as well as the source of this wealth. However

issues came when he stated listing the number of children he had as well as the wives and concu-

bines he had accumulated over years however their rights to participate in the meeting were cate-

gorically quashed with talk of

‘why should we take the initiative to call them if they never bothered to come bury him’

Then came the most critical lines in the will that was being read out aloud for all to hear.

‘as for my heir it will be my son who will take over the reins of the family when I finally depart.

The land will be shared between all the sons in the family the first born taking 1/5th of the land, the

multiple orphans will take ¼ of the land not as ownership but planting crops, the animals in the

kraal will be used to pay dowry for the feed your grandmother, all sons will be entitled to share the

remaining land. ¼ of the remaining land will be given to my children from outside in case the come

asking for it…’

This went on for a couple of lines before the will was signed off with a line

‘always learn to love and respect each other’

The will was read three or four times as each line was translated occasionally for those who didn’t

go far in school to understand it. However some points created such debate reading was paused as

everyone shared his understanding of the cryptic statement issued by grand pa in his old Milton

Obote trained English. Some were met with jeers and whispers as some asked each other

‘do you know that person?’ while others swore some items in the will would never see the light of

day. Despite all this there was one thorn that if grand pa meant the will to maintain peace in the

family he had failed harder than the United Nations did in Rwanda back in 1994.

There was debate on what he meant by

‘as for my heir it will be my son who will take over the reins of the family when I finally depart’

Given he had several sons for the start numbering to over 14 grown sons without counting the lita-

ny of small boys who had emerged from the will that he had fathered over the last few years and

months. What line was going to be taken to decide who takes the reins from? Traditionally the eld-

est son was also the most natural heir however just the very thought of it was taboo that no one

wanted to mention and any time it was brought up was quickly quashed with whispers of shhhhhh

or else we land in trouble. On the other hand was the wealth question did this first son deserve to

have more wealth heaped upon him given he had accumulated so much wealth all by himself over

the last few years. Everyone who left the village for the city used his house as a first drop off point

where he sort of interned on life in the city with its high gates, over 12 hours of hard labour in a

relative’s house exchange for a plate of food and a place to sleep. Everyone from both lineages had

at one point passed through his house ironically even his younger brother who now was substan-

tially richer than him. The dabate raged on for a long time but it was naturally agreed the eldest

son from the educated lineage would take over for the time being.

Chapter seven

It’s not uncommon for a plan to lose the gist like it does in Ugandan societies at the end of the har-

vest season plans are drawn out detailing the need for quick planting that is much needed then the

season comes by and all goes with the wind under a sea of excuses. The heir debate had gone stale

for such a long time it didn’t actually matter anymore chiefly because the no one actually stayed in

the village. Most of the many acres of land were deep in the village that was not economically via-

ble to set up anything as well as every month relatives were packing their bags to head for the city

in search of better jobs and higher standards of living.

With grand pa gone the surveillance of the village and operations had literally gone numb and

communication was being done periodically over specified periods of time. This new vacuum had

created a situation where members of both linages came visited and left un announced at any time

of the day or the month of the year. What they discussed with whoever they visited in the village

remained with that person and only spread to a third party if there was need to make alliances fired

by their individual needs. With no identifiable adult left behind to pamper grand ma had taken the

seat that was once occupied by grand pa. All visitors left her with tips to take care of her as this

was viewed as a way of tapping into the blessings she had amassed over her long life on earth. Ini-

tially it was a kilo of sugar, a bar of soap, salt then currency notes. As this became frequent I guess

she got blinded by the love of money and had taken up grand pas old habits of manipulating her

givers.

Women in traditional Uganda are always treated second in anything even when a relative visits and

leaves gifts unless specified all belonged to the man of the home. Items like sugar and other tangi-

bles went to the woman who then split them up to feed the family while intangibles like money

slipped to the man to fuel their drinking habits. Yet here was grand ma faced with a multitude of

children inching to pamper someone so she took up to receiving these gifts with open arms.

Grand ma was a small frail woman who never pretty said much unless asked like all women of her

time and kept herself busy in the kitchen ensuring meals were made on time. On many occasions

visitors would come and go without noticing her and given she was most times dirty to save the

least she had created un likeable being and the silence that she carried with her made her not the

type to have a conversation with. She also suffered from heavy language barrier as she spoke only

the traditional language that half of us didn’t speak at all so it was always ‘how you…am fine”

from us and that was it.

One day auntie came home complaining the head of the educated class had noticed a sharp in-

crease in the number of random trips the head of the opposite linage had done over a short span of

time to the village. He queried what he did a task that auntie in her selflessness had somewhat tak-

en up and here she was pulling the hair from his head digging up the answers to this question.

What did he carry and why were the trips becoming more common. Confronting him directly

would lead to a more finger pointing from the other side of lineage. Auntie had advised him to

abandon the whole thought over a lengthy telephone call the two had had the night before her

voice so loud over the iron sheets being shattered by the equatorial rain synonymous with the rainy

season. She was at peace for a couple of days till one day we were watching a telenovela over the

black and white television screen when her phone lit up and started vibrating. The scene was so

absorbing that we ignored the phone hoping it would die away like most un answered phone call. It

did the first time before lighting up once again to which she cursed get me that damn phone.

That was the plan until she saw the name on the screen it was a call from the leader of the semi-

educated linage. Her heart skipped a minute before she pressed the green answer button swerved

her hair to reveal an ear where she rested the phone. I didn’t pick whatever they were speaking

about however one thing was clear it must be something about the other side. Her face frowned

then frowned twice rolled her lips then closed her eyes and shook her head in disbelief. She lis-

tened to the rest of the conversation with her eyes closed periodically punctuating the other party

with numb sounding

‘No……please tell me it’s not true’

The phone call lasted like forever then the other party hung up at once and silence descended on

the room for a minute before she glared at me;

‘But what is wrong with these people’

I was more shocked than concerned about the people she was talking about to start with how I can

give you a balanced opinion if I can’t tell what you discussed over the phone. She then went about

breaking down the long story they had discussed over the phone and one thing was clear. Someone

had leaked the plans of the other lineage to this one and she was being put to the task to explain if

she knew anything about the impending plans of the lineages leaders. He especially wanted to un-

derstand why he was asking questions of his trips to the village and if there was a law banning

someone from visiting his own biological mum. He had then warned him to shelf all plans that’s if

he had any at all the phrasing of the statement so vile auntie first washed it with detergent before

rephrasing it and telling it to me.

Each linage over the last few months had grown weary of the other side of the family and operated

as a cold war faction constantly spying on each other. The battles were fought out over telephone

calls as a way of digging information from any one in a well-planned case of profiling to get to

know who fell on what side of the family.

Chapter eight

‘Will go for the meeting?’ asked one of my cousins

‘what meeting’ came the snap reply

‘well the one called by uncle’ to which he replied

‘ohhh that one….never his not the heir’ before she hang up on me

Over the last few months the heirs authority was becoming increasingly threatened by constant

questioning of who appointed him to take up such a prestigious role. If they are as educated as

they pretend to be why they do use tradition to claim to be the heirs of the family a chant was be-

coming more and more audible from the other side of the lineage. This was after he had asked for

more openness about trips to the village so as to prevent saturation of the village with loose mon-

eys that he feared in the long run would reduce all visitors to sources of quick money. He in the

process he had suggested a close up family meeting so as to iron out these issues so that there was

no communication on who went to be village and on what date as well as on his letter had said a

group trip to the village was more cheaper than random multiple trips. His concern had grown after

reports had emerged conversation from the latest migrants from the village who had camped at his

home as they prepared for the city adventure. They had identified the leaders of the semi-educated

linage as to have increased their trips to the village and of particular interest was that fact that they

left behind on their trips considerable amounts of tangible as well as large amounts of money. Of

late even grand ma had started even sponsoring some village kids from her side of the family com-

fortably without needing the support of the old sources of funding. Initially he wrote it off howev-

er with new members came more reports and more scathing details.

The meetings were categorically rejected unless he never signed off the meeting invites as the heir

to the family which too quickly turned into a war of words. Some asked then without a sense of

leadership then how are we to grow the family and keep the family heritage. When meetings were

finally held it was always a case of them against us with one suggestion being turned down after

another. When money was suggest creating a sort of family fund to avail funds for the many or-

phans at home, the need to build and renovate houses back home everyone mysteriously fell in.

The monthly fee suggested was a small fee of 20,000 Uganda shillings that was to be documented

periodically, meetings were scheduled every month and members of the standing committees were

to come from both sides of the lineage.

In the light of day it was a good sign of progress from the standoff created by the death of grand pa

which had created many power centers that were fighting for dominancy over the rest of us. Be-

hind this agreement though was a plot well wound it wound in which the semi-educated linage

plotted to have more control of the family? They were the most active during the meetings and im-

provised the much needed stationary, mobilized the members to attend the meetings. This helped

mainly by the type of the jobs that many did for a living as shop attendants, electricians and

plumbs and tile builders. These jobs involved a lot of human to human contact as well as consider-

able travel around the city from place to place. This made it easy to mobilize members and bring

up constructive ideas to build the family. There was un usual open communication between linages

as they got closer and closer to each other. In the third meeting an annual family get together was

suggested by family members in which all family members carried their families to the village to

get to know each other a little more and prevent same clan marriages. The logistical problems

were curtailed by the fund created and this provided the meals that were to be devoured over

Christmas, the sodas.

Traditionally males build houses at their father’s house in preparation for their journey to leave

their fathers homes. As times had changed and so were the homes that were built from mud and

wattle to iron roofed houses to which he had built a huge bungalow with a plan for grand pa to

shift in. This hadn’t happened however hadn’t but over the last few months had become a land

mark of progress when a son finally becomes a man. It’s this enthusiasm that hard earned him the

right as the most deserving heir to the family which his adversaries hadn’t done. The educated

side’s leader had in the last few months put final touches to his huge bungalow that he had built in

the village after several burials had created such a mess as members were reduced to pitching

camp for the night. This would provide the lodging for the planned family excursion of the festivi-

ty days that were coming up in a few months.

On the other side of the divide though the semi educated were plotting an ambush and a show of

power as well as their progress.

chapter

Her death was pushed down my ear slowly not to ruffle any hard feelings that I didn’t know ex-

isted in me for all these years. Initially talk was that it was random malaria and her stay in hospital

was nothing serious and before long she would be out of hospital. One day led to another and be-

fore I knew it she had moved to one week in the hospital without a disease being diagnosed by

whoever was doing the diagnosing. However far off the dark side of the story wasn’t played out

before me until the dust had settled on the whole story did the politics land right at my front door?

The call hit me like a rush of cold water after all those days hallucinations had been floating

through my head of what if she didn’t make it out of that hospital. At the turn of the year my sister

had suffered a random attack that saw her end up in hospital diagnosed with a disease that none of

us could comprehend. Days after that auntie complained about sickness in her feet something we

wrote off with claims she was a local breed there was no way she was succumbing to a disease

just as if she were an exotic chicken.

Ever since we had moved deeper into the city her circle of friends had narrowed down considera-

bly as she resigned to being a non-participatory member of the third linage even though all this

time she had been floating from one lineage to another using a skill only her she would master.

Several times she used her little shoulders and voice to quash war instigated by one end of the

family to another until next time when another side played victim in reference to another side of

the family. At her death bed these battle lines played out like the black and white spaces of a

chase board. Who jumped in first to calm the fire or provide for the dying while the one educated

side played diplomat handling issues from the distance, the semi-educated were non-existent

which left the third linage got involved heavily.

In her last days having cut off ties with the other two lineages, she had had picked up the charac-

teristics of the third linage living all alone so on her death bed it revealed a sect that had devel-

oped in the educated class. It was made of the young educated ones who were desperate to make

to the top to occupy the power vacuum that was slowly but steadily developing at the top. This

vacuum had one problem it was naturally going to be adopted by the only son of the current pro-

tagonist of the educated family who was well armed by the militant antics of the semi-educated

class. Seeing this opportunity many of the emerging cadres of the educated linage were busy

working their way up so as to gazzump this place before it fell vacant. Auntie’s death bed provid-

ed a launch pad to exercise this influence as they hijacked all duties in provision of whatever the

deceased needed and even his belongings were taken up by them dishing out instructions to who-

ever was concerned. They even provided a sort of family broadcasting service giving timely up-

dates on the condition of the deceased to whoever was concerned. On face value this looks like a

plan well working however it had a flaw which was picked on by the result driven third linage

who quickly provided the educated cadres to only providing lip service instead of the final prod-

uct. The pampers never arrived, the bills were never paid only the deceased property was taken

care of yet news spread around crediting the educated cadres of a job well done. This hurt the

third linage so bad they cut off all ties with other members of the family paralyzing the whole

family. The coup was done so naturally it hit the educated so bad none even noticed the takeover.

The key legal documents had a bearer of the third linage and nothing would be moved till they

signed paralyzing all the plans.