After 9 years of lousy post independence governance, Uganda got a true president. The pansies were out of the way and in came the true hero, black messiah, go-getter and epitome of all things possible. Here is a story of a P.4 dropout who got a doctorate in law; a Kakwa boy who was raised by a single witch mum to become president; a hustler who started as an assistant cook in the King’s African Rifles and rose through the ranks to become a field Marshal with a distinguished Service Order (DSO), a Military Cross (MC), and a Victorious Cross (VC), pretty much all the honors one would deserve after conquering the whole British empire single handedly.
Ladies and gentlemen, I give you; His Excellency President for Life, Field Marshal Alhaji Dr. Idi Amin Dada Oumee, VC, DSO, MC, CBE.
The only Ugandan who had more honors than the then exiled Magulunyondo.
A president who loved and promoted sports in this country, not just in boxing where he held the heavyweight championship title between 1951 and 1960, but his reign saw Uganda scoop the first of the two Olympics gold medals we pride in.
However like all great people, our leader also had a weakness: his being a shortage of fucks. The debate is he gave a lot of them literally and was left with none for figurative speech. This was evidenced by his relations with the west, respect for human rights plus his relentless and unrepentant efforts to purge the Pearl of Africa of all people Acholi and Langi.
His wishes became commands, his dreams became decrees; when he had one that the Asians were milking Uganda then they had to leave in 90 days. When he felt like the Tanzanian Kagera province would look better on the Ugandan map, then he made a move for it.
Everything about him was royal. Like King Julian, he rode around in a sedan chair carried by four Englishmen.
Like king David, When he saw a woman that made his 280 pound body quiver with anxieties of love, all he had to do was snap at his right hand man;
“Maliyamungu, tonight I make babies with that one. Bring her to me and take care of the husband”.
Because he refused to lick ass (but made everyone lick his), haters imputed hypomania on him (a form of manic depression which is characterized by irrational behavior and emotional outbursts). Later, condescending nicknames were invented for him.
A 1977 Time magazine article described him as a “killer and clown, big-hearted buffoon and strutting martinet”. But to all this woloks, he smugly wagged his thick middle finger and giggled
“I don’t see how you can hate from outside of the club, you can’t even gerrin”
So he thought; until Israeli ninjas raided his club on a 4 July 1976 counter-terrorist hostage-rescue mission where his troops experienced a mortifying 90mins defeat. But being the black hearted ninja that he was, he oso took out his revenge on a sick and helpless 75 year old grandma.
But as the luganda proverb says, even him who “dances” well leaves the platform. Our dear leader did not survive the Tanzanians; apparently they disagreed with his idea of on whose map their Kagera province look more beautiful.
Written for Urban Legend Kampala