By Richard Otim
Taking a nap is healthy, but a long sleep is certainly not good. For a while, Soroti had drowned into a deep slumber more worrying than restful.
For years, the men and women woven into the fabric of Soroti’s political past, had remained dormant, deeply divided and each on their own.
Struggling businesses, failing infrastructure and rampant insecurity in the city were left to fester, ignored by those who should have been at the helm.
Then now comes the reawakening sound of ‘kadodi!’, a magical drum beat of Bamasaba people in Eastern Uganda, rhythmically rallying crowds to attend a gathering at Soroti Sports Ground, but the chants are unsettlingly timed.
With the clock ticking down fast to elections, the ‘historicals’ are resurfacing, faces now etched with a nervous energy, their voices suddenly echoing with promises again.
The question then lingers in minds of many, thick and unanswered – what is at stake?
For disillusioned electorate, it is a familiar scenario though. The cycle of gullibility, a tug-of-war between what is right and what is easy, whirled around them once more.
Several residents of Soroti City, however, watched the “historicals” with shrewd disbelief because they had seen it all before after all, promises made, promises broken.
In early hours of May 30, ‘kadodi’ beats filled the air, accompanied by the flash of campaign posters of Mike Mukula who is seeking re-endorsement for NRM Vice Chairperson Eastern Region and the rumble of passing vehicles laden with curious crowds.
The masses had also been hoodwinked that the activity would a commemoration of NRM Day due for June 9 and that legendary musician Jose Chameleon (who never appeared) was to entertain them at the function, apparently meant to counter Echodu David Calvin’s homecoming hosted early last month at the same Soroti Sports Ground.
Echodu, a philanthropist, social entrepreneur and founder of Pilgrim Africa has since returned from the US and currently campaigning across the country to be endorsed for NRM Vice Chairperson Eastern Uganda.
“Mukula is a man of showbiz, as usual. He is a someone who loves the limelight and never keeps his word. For us (in Soroti), it’s just an open-air entertainment and we are slowly learning not to take his word seriously,” a young man, about 30 years commented.
The air popped with blares of manufactured enthusiasm – a charade carefully orchestrated to mask the dishonesty beneath.
But behind the exquisiteness lurked a mischievous charm, a deadly venom that could paralyze and consume.
The maneuvers seemed like tale of a serpent with a beautiful skin, its scales sparkling in the sun with movements graceful and its hissing soothing.
Smiling faces on the passing posters, the jovial handshakes and carefully crafted speeches by “man of the day” loudly communicated, it was merely a rousing by the approaching elections.
However, would this awakening bring genuine change, or just another cycle of exploitation? Would the electorate, finally weary of the “political hoodwinking,” choose wisely, or succumb once more to the superficial courtship of native politics?
To many in Soroti City, the answer is not just in the promises shouted from the fete, but in the quiet questions whispered in the market squares, in the shared understanding splashed on their faces with a future hanging in balance, staggering between a genuine dawn and a false sunrise.