The Proverbial African Big Man
So I’m reading this book in which the first paragraph describes African Politics as ‘politics of the belly’. Now since I’ve never laid claim to genius I’ll admit that my first thought was, yeah, that’s why M7 got fat right after he became president. I tend to do this a lot. Literal comprehension. Luckily over analyzing is one of my bad habits so I make up for it. So anyway, after that thought we moved on. I’m not gonna lie. Beyond that first chapter, the book was depressingly boring and I’m guilty of skipping through more than two hundred pages. But I’m fascinated. Garang comes off as the bad guy in here and that is not the way he is portrayed in the media. Before I read this book, Garang was something of an African hero, up there on the high pedestal with Nkrumah and Mandela. He fought for Black Sudan’s freedom and won, kind of. He is now fondly remembered on sweaty tshirts in the Old Taxi Park and across the Great Lakes Region of East Africa.
Anyway, I’m trying to wrap my mind around the politics of this place in which I claim citizenship. And it’s much more complicated than I thought. There are so many different things at play. I thought I knew about the whole tribal mania and I believed had a light grasp on the religious undertones but I had no idea. In truth, all I know is what anyone with an IQ above 65 and a willing mind could know. So after a quick stint of self pity, I’ve stashed my pride away, far far away, where it can not blind me. Now I’m reading. My weapon of choice always. So far I’m glad the pieces are falling into place. I see why Mayombo’s death was a disaster, for the Movement, and everyone else. I see why Besigye has a point thought I fail to be convinced by him (yet). Slowly, I see. (Cue song, I can see clearly now, the rain is gone…)
Mostly, what’s got my full attention is, well, I hadn’t fully realized what being landlocked means for us. Beyond sharing a few rivers, national parks and rebels, I didn’t see what the big deal was. But it does. Our politics are messily interrelated with our lovely neighbors. Anything happening around us directly and indirectly affects us. It’s like Dominos. You hit one, we all fall. So I’m reading, gunning my way through East African Lit which is how I ended up at this book, trying to see what part Sudan plays in this tragedy.
And we wind back up to the beginning to Garang. Was Garang really the Jesus Christ of Southern Sudan or was he like Museveni? Did he simply portray himself in the best possible light at the right time (oooh! Like Hitler too!) . Woukld he have eventually amassed power/money and become the stereotypical African leader? Based on this book, you’d think yes, he would have. But the world will never know. He died before he could sully his image. Which makes you think, if Museveni had somehow had an unfortunate accident like his buddy, Garang, where would we be now? And is this the fate of power and the African Man? Will their union always be a disaster waiting to happen?
...I do wonder....
So I’m reading this book in which the first paragraph describes African Politics as ‘politics of the belly’. Now since I’ve never laid claim to genius I’ll admit that my first thought was, yeah, that’s why M7 got fat right after he became president. I tend to do this a lot. Literal comprehension. Luckily over analyzing is one of my bad habits so I make up for it. So anyway, after that thought we moved on. I’m not gonna lie. Beyond that first chapter, the book was depressingly boring and I’m guilty of skipping through more than two hundred pages. But I’m fascinated. Garang comes off as the bad guy in here and that is not the way he is portrayed in the media. Before I read this book, Garang was something of an African hero, up there on the high pedestal with Nkrumah and Mandela. He fought for Black Sudan’s freedom and won, kind of. He is now fondly remembered on sweaty tshirts in the Old Taxi Park and across the Great Lakes Region of East Africa.
Anyway, I’m trying to wrap my mind around the politics of this place in which I claim citizenship. And it’s much more complicated than I thought. There are so many different things at play. I thought I knew about the whole tribal mania and I believed had a light grasp on the religious undertones but I had no idea. In truth, all I know is what anyone with an IQ above 65 and a willing mind could know. So after a quick stint of self pity, I’ve stashed my pride away, far far away, where it can not blind me. Now I’m reading. My weapon of choice always. So far I’m glad the pieces are falling into place. I see why Mayombo’s death was a disaster, for the Movement, and everyone else. I see why Besigye has a point thought I fail to be convinced by him (yet). Slowly, I see. (Cue song, I can see clearly now, the rain is gone…)
Mostly, what’s got my full attention is, well, I hadn’t fully realized what being landlocked means for us. Beyond sharing a few rivers, national parks and rebels, I didn’t see what the big deal was. But it does. Our politics are messily interrelated with our lovely neighbors. Anything happening around us directly and indirectly affects us. It’s like Dominos. You hit one, we all fall. So I’m reading, gunning my way through East African Lit which is how I ended up at this book, trying to see what part Sudan plays in this tragedy.
And we wind back up to the beginning to Garang. Was Garang really the Jesus Christ of Southern Sudan or was he like Museveni? Did he simply portray himself in the best possible light at the right time (oooh! Like Hitler too!) . Woukld he have eventually amassed power/money and become the stereotypical African leader? Based on this book, you’d think yes, he would have. But the world will never know. He died before he could sully his image. Which makes you think, if Museveni had somehow had an unfortunate accident like his buddy, Garang, where would we be now? And is this the fate of power and the African Man? Will their union always be a disaster waiting to happen?
...I do wonder....
3 comments
can u imagine how shocked i was to find out that girls actually need to seat down to do number 1!!All along i thought girls were more polite than men who stand anywhere..im not going anywhere with this..I dont believe in one man holding our destiny(my ma keeps drummin into my head, 'the destiny of every man is in his hands')..someone else would have gone to battle..maybe someone who wouldnt grow fat when he gets into power, but then again we shall never know
REPLYI don't know what I should be crying about . That you are reading that kind of crappy piece of shit that can pass for a book every now and then, or that you are giving it any thought.
REPLYThose piles of tripe are written by idiots who hope for a perfect situation. But why are some of those people so amazingly stupid? When, for example, Paul Wolfowitz, that World Bank guy who lost his job, is caught being corrupt to orders of millions, it is him who is bad. When a minister robs a coin in Uganda, the continent is a corrupt heap of politic-of-the-belly politicians. Crap. Burn that blasphemous, near-occultic book.
The most important thing one can learn from reading about Ugandan politics is this: Everyone is wrong. There are always two sides, and neither one is correct.
REPLYThe wise thing to do is read everything, believe nothing and don't form an opinion until four years after you first encounter the question you are forming an opinion about.
hi! thanks for commenting. I'm always open to new ideas. I can't wait to hear yours.