OPINION
By Okalebo Aaron
Oh Uganda, where the sun never fails to shine,
Lies wealth undiscovered in a glimmering line.
It’s not the oil nor the limestone we seek,
For survival, just a seat at the peak.
Ah, the MPs dine on the business class fare,
While promises float like smoke in the air.
From wetlands shared to drug stores bare,
Development, it seems, is immensely rare.
Lubowa hospital, Akii Bua stadium and Zombo road,
Are built, but only on paper and slowed.
The local man waits, his patience runs thin,
As officials hide in corridors, no one comes clean.
“Perhaps I will order a new generator for my mansion,
Or build myself a mall, not for the passion.”
While no learning books exist in the school library,
The minister flies to the finest winery.
They promised the youths jobs by the ton,
“Just send me your CV, I will see what I can do, my son!”
But the jobs are gifted to kith and kin,
While degrees and diplomas gather dust in the cabin.
Tax the local man, tax him high,
Offer him naught, not even a sigh.
Streets flood when the rains come down,
For “drainage funds” were lost in town.
Each fresh scandal is a show, a comical play,
For the actors’ kowtow and then slip away.
Convictions are rare; “pardon” the term,
And soon they are back, no lessons learned.
Oh Uganda, the land of opportunities and might,
As we, politely, wait for leaders to steer us right.
Until then, it is laughter and tears,
As each new scandal confirms our fears.
