I thank Yahweh that my Thursday morning was fine compared to Tuesday and Wednesday that dished headache and stomach ache restricting my smile.
A dry and less windy day promised much. Radioh downed his head on editing videos while Ivy made sure that some germane tracks were getting done. My hands also could not let me relax even when I felt not like doing some computer graphic designing.
The evening came and by 7:30pm we had to sign out from office. Ivy took the road towards the University main gate and Radioh took the Arts route.
“Goodnight Ivy, Radioh!! Good night!!” I said as my legs started accelerating towards the Senate building road.
On my way to my hood, as I pass through the swimming pool road, Livingstone and Faculty Veterinary, I had to sing some famous gospel songs just to bless the Lord and twist my voice to hit best chords… may be to become your best vocalist…ha.
When I reached the Makerere Veterinary gate I saw two ladies standing but beside them I saw a man talking to them so I didn’t mind… “Peoples business, hands off. ” Little did I know that I would be the next person to be grilled.
“Hallo” (the man said as he moved closer)
So I stopped and I also tried to figure out who the person was. Looking keenly, I was able to tell that he was a Police Officer because of the Kalashnikov he carried and the Black beret he wore. I had to relax because what I knew was where the policemen were peace prevailed.
“Who are you?” the policeman asked.
“I am a human being,” I answered.
The officer pushed me to the edge of the gate and ordered me to sit down on that muddy floor. I didn’t know that I had made a wake dog to bite this time.
As the ladies were trying to fidget their way out by calling there boyfriends to come and rescue them, I sat and tried to reflect upon what might have led to my sitting.
“Anyway, the question was, who are you? But what might have been the right answer? …am a human being, am student, am a Kampalan, am Kisiki…”
On checking my watch, 2 hours had elapsed the Police officer quizzing all passers-bys and I seated, yet it was getting more colder. The Police officer shouted “Ssebo (Mr.) be removing your shirt am coming.” I ignored his order and I did not remove the shirt because what I had “done” did not equate removing the shirt and why?
He moved closer and started telling me how I had undermined him before the ladies he was interrogating. He went farther and narrated that he was a Christian and he is educated. He even gave me an example of his priest he nabbed one time because of disobeying the law.
“But what have I done, officer?” I asked.
“ You disrespected me, you think this is not work that am doing. I think you have a problem. I hope you inquire from your colleagues from Lumumba Hall how bad I am, you wouldn’t have answered me that way…am a human being…the answer was just simple…giving me your name.” He said.
I begged him to let me go and he granted me permission after noting my name and student’s number in his tattered notebook. He promised to report me to the Academic Register for indiscipline.
I thanked him and moved. Up to today I ask my self, which answer is correct or appropriate to a question, “who are you?”