A Sparkling Jewel of Fate

An essay by BIRUNGI GILLIAN

I have been trying so hard to remember who wrote the words resounding in my mind. “Is change a sparkling jewel of fate or an unnecessary diversion to what was already a good thing?” Maybe it was a random podcast or radio in the car as I drove around. It could be social media, a quote, TikTok video, Instagram reel, or something, but I keep remembering that my environment right now is the effect of decisions I made long ago. I look around my room and I don’t like how the space has turned out to be. Maybe I am too lost in the past. 

The boys would come around. We’d cook. The words on the walls had meaning. One stood out most. “You are not the one I am looking for but I am so cold and a fire is a fire.” I turn around and stare at the wall where it’s written in red. I no longer relate. 

We’d eat and drink and talk about everything and nothing. How the government was affecting us. How cryptocurrency was the next big thing even when neither of us was willing to stake on it. How we are growing older and how we need to be serious. Days would fly by. Until next weekend. I’d complain about the cooking. Why do I have to be the only one doing everything? I somehow loved it though. Making people meals from scratch and hearing them praise me when they ate.

I don’t recognise this room anymore. It is still the same but something is missing. The excitement to be in my own space after leaving home. The company I would invite over and the moments we’d share. I haven’t moved from it for more than three days straight. I have been here all the time, but somehow not. Is this what I’d call my past decisions? This is not something I’d choose. 

It has much turned out like Kabale town. We wanted civilisation  so much that now it’s happening, I don’t know whether to be happy or sad. Most of the places have been torn down and arcades and apartments built. There are more food places, hotels and restaurants. There are more options and we get to enjoy even what was once out of town luxuries. Why does it feel different though.? Is there a way to mesh memories and present moments? The boys used to complain about having one bar in town. If one got into a scuffle, then it was all of us out for the next month or so until something new came about and we forgot our differences. Now there are three different clubs but we don’t have the energy to drink and hang out like we used to. One beer with the boys and that is a whole week through. People have responsibilities and those who don’t are worried everyone else is moving while they stay stagnant. I am in the middle. Things to do here and there, while I still feel it’s not enough. 

The big deal though is the talk of turning this town into a city. Kabale has been my home since I was born. From small town energy to a city is a long haul. This was once the smallest and coldest town in Uganda referred to as “the Switzerland of Uganda.”  It was a peaceful village that produced most of the country’s Irish potatoes and people just lived a quiet life with the exception of beer parties and occasional fights. Shifting from this relaxed pace to the energy of a city should be a process that takes time and patience. I don’t know who’s handling the transition but I think it’s better if progress was slow. There were days when criminals were petty and known by the village heads. If someone  stole something, the people would know whose home it would be found in. Lately things are weird, crimes weirder and people are getting killed by outsiders. Gangs of city thieves are moving here because iron ore was discovered and one has to go home early as it’s not safe anymore. They say it is good for the town and that the economy has grown, but I am still at my nursing job, the salary hasn’t increased, my boys still pass by for a free service now and then. While the economy grows, my pockets get emptier. Maybe back in the day, I wanted to be a nurse because being one wasn’t just good for the government money, but because you helped your community and they had your back too. 

When Kabale becomes a city, it will not only be hard for the older population but also the people that owned the town no longer will. Small business owners like Horizon transporters are being replaced by big enterprises like Gateway buses. Big businessmen buying up places and hiking prices turning them into resorts filled with fancy people, foreigners and tourists. Big malls contain shops that sell overpriced stuff instead of thrift shops and locally owned stores. Maybe I should get into business too and open up a clinic or drug store in town to be on trend so I don’t get left behind as the seasons change.

I am becoming more hungry and restless and it shows even when I sit with the boys. We are more silent, wondering what to do, now that we are grown and can no longer leave the fate of our town to the older generation. Do we like what’s happening? Sometimes we are scared. Other times we think it will be good. We discuss everything from the crime rate to the economy and infrastructure. We keep wondering where everyone else is getting the money they are pushing out and if there is a way for us to get into the system too. One thing is for sure though, this is not our town any more. 

I visited my old primary school the other day for career guidance. Even the pupils look different. The laughter in the pupil’s eyes and their vibrancy, I don’t see much now. They are opening a new computer laboratory to prepare pupils for this digital era. I wish they played out more in the open air. That is just me thinking though. How can one place change so much? Change is really necessary but I wish it was slower. Give people time to fully adjust to what was and what will be. It’s not a sparkling jewel of fate. It is an unnecessary diversion in what was already a good thing. 

There are things that are necessary and important like good infrastructure, services, water supply, education, power and other utilities and they could have been the focus of the government. A small agricultural town known for its Irish and sweet potato production with honest people who mind their business. They are tribalist but welcoming as well and not much goes on without people saying how Kabale people are this or that. What will happen to the heritage now that it’s being taken over by civilisation? Most of the people have sold off and moved to the capital but even then, when life tosses them, I am sure they have nowhere to run back to. 

It happened before when Kampala was turned into a city. Luckily for them, the Baganda from the central and one of the biggest tribes in Uganda, unlike the Bakiga in Kabale, had an organised ruling system with kings and their advisers. This helped them sustain their heritage and in Kampala one can see the wide stretch of the kingdom in Mengo and Kasubi still protected and running locally despite the capital city and its system. That is what I’d love to call a comeback at change. The Bakiga aren’t organised at all and each falls for himself with community intervention only when something is beyond family intervention. The system moves from individual, to family, then well respected families having a chief or clan head but with people still minding their own business until an issue is reported to them. This is a system I was once proud to have been born in until recently. 

I don’t really care much for heritage and cultures because that can be taught in the family stead to our own kids but it’s scary how hungry everyone has become for a piece of money and the town has been eaten up. I am more scared that even raising one’s kids—protected and local—is going to do more harm than good because to survive in a city, in my opinion,  they have to be ruthless and harsh. I remember when one’s kid used to be the entire community’s project so they don’t turn out bad. My mother was a soft-spoken woman who didn’t know how to scold us even when we were wrong. We had Aunt Jemima though who’d take it upon herself to come looking for our faults. You’d think she is even related to us. She was just my mother’s old classmate. Nowadays I don’t even know the name of my neighbour, let alone the kids that live in the neighbourhood. I don’t know what will happen if we become a city. 

Of course there are pros and cons to everything. I hear a new hospital is going to be built so I might get an administrative job if I can get an advanced certificate in the next few years. That means I have to go back to school. There are also many other things coming. Political things that I usually don’t care about. The mayor who happens to be my dad’s brother, and might still be Mayor when Kabale becomes a city, will be earning more. There will be more openings for council jobs and there will be a reshuffle in the governing system which will be good for my brothers who are always looking for such opportunities. I hear these things when I am at family gatherings and keep all the worries to myself since no one seems to get why it’s a bad thing that this change is coming. 

Schools have now been privatised and everyone is opening one. The central market was rebuilt to fit the city standards and I keep getting lost and rarely get the things I go shopping for. Recently, there was a case brought against the Mayor about serving stalls in the new market and how old vendors deserved space first more than the new people. However, the case  ended up being about who can afford the stalls rather than addressing the displacement of the vendors we have known all our lives. I don’t think I would make a good politician because I would end up going against the government just for my people to stay happy. 

It’s busier in town too. There are now traffic jams unlike days when one would speed through on bicycles. I haven’t seen a bicycle in a long time and people look more corporate in suits and ties like the end of the world is coming. How do I turn my hometown into my hometown again?

All I want is the civilisation to come along with life still. For people to still be happy and purpose-driven and communities to look out for each other. For these criminal gangs to be chased out and the local misfits stay. At least a local weed or drug seller would say that is enough drugs for you and chase one to go to school because they know the kid, than a criminal gangster who doesn’t care whether you study or not. Even criminals are somehow alright if they are local. It’s not that I support crimes, only that a local criminal would be more mindful than a stranger.

A lot has been happening in my small town of Kabale and these drastic changes make me miserable about the future. Maybe it’s all going to be alright and I am just an old person that prefers country to city, but I agree that while sometimes change can be the much needed catalyst for life to move on well, in this case it’s doing more harm than good. In my opinion, most of the people on the supportive side of the city agenda are looking forward to gaining a lot like my brothers who will get government posts and the big businessmen who have invested a lot in changing the town but not so much for the local person who will have the few rights they have taken. Land rights are changing. Registration of land is becoming hard. People are embezzling land by cheating the locals who have no idea that the town is changing. Everyone is hungry. It’s getting hard even for the local man to afford a small living space due to demand, markets and the science behind all that. 

I have not lived enough and if I had one wish, I’d pray that I atleast get to raise my kids in an older setting and maybe then prepare them for what’s coming. There are people that will tell you that change is a sparkling jewel of fate, but I will stand on the fact that it’s an unnecessary and uncomfortable diversion in what was already a good thing.