We were born at the dawn of peace. Ours is the generation that fed on the prosperity testament.
We were told stories that started with; “in those turbulent years…”
My father tells one where he fled his work place, just him and his portable radio (hoping yet another coup wouldn’t happen), and followed village paths to get to his family about 40kms away.
Wide-eyed, as our minds raced to decipher the complexities of politics, war and destruction, we knew one thing for sure; it was not a time the story tellers wished to re-live.
We were told this country has come so far, but finally the guns are silent, peace reigns and our lives depended on books and pens—literally.
We were called “the Museveni generation”. We were not raised to fear pens. But we were raised to fear guns.
Tales abound, of military men who could neither read, write nor reason, but solved every problem with the muzzle of their gun.
We have been brought up in the time of military men who wrote books. I read Sowing the Mustard Seed in secondary school. Much later, I came across Uganda’s Revolution 1979-1986.; How I Saw It. No matter what their critics might say, these books document bits of our history, that generations to come might read, long after storytelling is out of style.
We have lived in the time of a professional, educated army; the former “kadogos” that went to high school with my elder brother, the high-ranking officers who sat A’ levels and had their photos printed in the newspapers.
And so we didn’t think we would get to witness a time when pens—letters written in ink—throw an entire country in panic.
The General Sejusa letter issue, and the ensuing frenzy brought about by a clamp-down on media houses, has left me wondering whether this government is more afraid of words and paper, than the time when guns did all the talking.
Those who lived through those days would shudder at such a statement. In fact, they would shudder at someone talking back to a soldier. And yet there seems to be a view among the powers that be, albeit veiled, that men that were told to get an education, learn to civilly express their opinions, would be better off silent.
The government seems to be telling them to stay miles away from pens and notebooks, to the extent that the Uganda Police doubts Gen. Sejusa actually originated that letter. At least, that was one of the excuses they gave for ransacking media houses in search of the original copy.
What else, but the fear of words, would lead to the deployment of security forces, and cordoning off of institutions that are only the public’s mouth piece?
We are the generation that can rattle off the personal freedoms as laid down in our constitution, without skipping a word. We were never led to believe that we would live in the dangerous days of pens.