Busy bees

How did it get to Thursday? I've been meaning to pen something down since Saturday but I can't complain too much. Being busy is also a good thing. I find that it's easier to get through the day with a long list of things to do. Of course there's the initial inertia that tempts me to stay away from activity. But once I get over that, even rainy days are glorious. Yesterday, my greatest achievement was getting my National I.D. I am now a bonafide Ugandan! I am weary of government offices and their endless queues. However, I have now learnt that the best time to go to these offices is just after the afternoon rain. No lines. No fuss. Another thing I learnt is to make bank appointments on Wednesdays. The Ugandan weekend starts on Thursday evening and ends at noon on Monday. Tuesday us everyone's catchup day. So Wednesday is the best day to get things done.

Now on to what I really want to talk about. Last week, we went to Kaaka's 80th birthday party. She is the first grand mother I ever knew. I didn't have the chance to meet my maternal grand parents. I was only able to meet my paternal grand mother, Jajja Angela, after meeting Kaaka. This was mostly because, in the 90s, it took us almost 2 days to cross over from Kampala to Arua by road and ferry, through rebel-infested roads, and with a night spent in Masindi. It was an expensive, risky affair. As much as I love her, I, sadly, need a translator to talk to my Jajja Angela, so our conversations are strained. Kaaka, on the other hand, has always lived in Entebbe, which was the first taxi route that I could take on my own. For the longest time, the only taxi stages I knew in the old taxi park were Makerere and Entebbe.

The last time I spent the night at her home, I had arrived in the early afternoon, with the intention of waiting for a late night flight. Because of immigration issues, I had to abandon that flight and returned to Kaaka's with my tail between my legs. I found hot tea, a warm meal and a bed waiting for me. Grand mothers are the best. They do not expect explanations for your failures, at least not immediately and they are such sympathisers. She told me of the various times she's been stuck in airports too, as if she was assuring me that I am not alone in my struggles. She understands.

At the party, I was surprised to find out that she has been in retirement for most of the time that I have known her. You could never tell. She's always involved in one project or another or travelling abroad. She was born in 1935! 1935! That was before world war 2 and independence. In fact, by independence, she was already married with children. She KNOWS the struggle. In light of my recently discovered mis-education about Ugandan [and all African]history, and in my pursuit of bonafide Ugandaness, I know I have to make sure she tells my children her stories.

Of course after all these years, she has countless relatives courtesy of her in laws, her children and their relationships. I am not a direct descendant of hers, although I really did try to find a link through an uncle of an uncle. But, when we walked up to greet her, she remembered our names. She still complains that I never officially took Walker to visit her. I should, before she turns 85.

I've been to a couple of funerals this year. Two were younger people who were "suddenly" taken from us. Their families and friends were shaken and shocked by their passing. The 3rd was an uncle of mine who had been sick for a while. Funerals make me think about what I leave behind  when I walk out of the door. Kaaka made me think that perhaps instead of using funerals as motivation I should be working to make sure my legacy is intact while I am still alive. Though, I don't think 9 children are in my future, I'm going to try to keep as busy [doing good] as I can.