Strategize and Plan Your Journey

Traveling up country is one tedious journey, especially where the destination is so many miles away. A journey, especially to the north is riddled with long travels across majorly a good road with some bad stretches.

Living Luwero and headed towards Nakasongola up to river Kafu Bridge, the road is exceptionally good by East African standards but after Kafu on ward, the road is narrow, mapped with potholes up to Karuma falls.



Karuma Bridge overlooking the falls



One does not see the greater danger of the road until there is a heavy truck with a stubborn driver who cares nothing about other road users and drives right in the centre of the road. Often one is forced to swerve off the road to redeem ones soul from a calamitous death.

Depending on your destination, often, after Karuma, you either travel through the Murchison National Park towards West Nile or to the northern Uganda districts of Gulu, Lira, Kitgum, Apac through Kamdini.

Such long distance travels can be tiring but when one is travelling especially by private means, it becomes rewarding chiefly when you set time lines and particular places where you can stop, refresh yourself, rest, besides the pleasure of eating the delicacies from these major stops, they are major points to always start all over again.



Vendors selling merchandize at Kafu



Normally when travelling from Kampala, a major stop can be at Luwero where you can purchase some fruits like pineapples and bananas. Some other major stop is at Mijera just after Nakasongola, a fuel station and a supermarket where most long distance public buses stop. Here people normally purchase first foods, packed beverages and ease themselves.

Another major stop is river Kafu. There is a T- junction of the road branching to Masindi. Here, vendors of various roasted edibles ranging from muchomo for beef or chevon or chicken are found. The major delicacy at this stop is roasted cassava. There are these amazingly long white fresh cassava often sold when hot to travelers through the windows of the vehicles they are in.



Pakwach Bridge



Bweyale and Karuma are also other stops majorly for roasted maize or even fresh maize. Other stops are Pakwach, majorly known for angara (salted bonny fish) and other types of fish for those traveling to West Nile and what is normally called corner Kamdini for gweno (live Chicken).

These stops are not just famous for the items a voyager could find and purchase while travelling; they are markers of progress, accomplishment and a celebration of the triumph as kilometer after kilometer each traveler approaches their destination. They are an unconscious strategy or plan of movement; a goal of sorts that the travelers seek to attain as they fulfill their vision of the journey.

Life is a journey, a long one at that where each of us must reach our destinations. Great achievements in this journey ought to be celebrated, marked and clearly rewarded. You will not realize how far you have gone when you do not strategize and plan your life’s journey. Sit down and strategize and plot the journey of your life.

The boda boda spirit

Boda boda is a major transport means in Uganda. It normally is a motor cycle or bicycle used to offer the haulage services. You must have used them or seen them all over the country running up and down the streets and nearly all village paths.

picture from google photos
 

Bodas as they are commonly called, are handy and quick to use especially when one is on a hurry to go somewhere during rush hours. They have information of locations and it is alleged that some also act as intelligentsia or at least informants for the state security organs.

On an iniquitous note though, they are notorious for breaking traffic rules in their attempts to save time and thus are among the leading causes of deaths and orthopaedic complications in and around the whole country in the transport sector.

In jams they are always looking for the next available opportunity to breakthrough and forge forward. When stuck in between cars, they manoeuvre and squeeze their way out sometimes scratching people’s cars and hitting side mirrors. Whenever there is an opening and one manages to get through successfully, the rest follow almost thoughtlessly and effortlessly through.

It was a Thursday morning; I was caught up at the Jinja road traffic lights. There was a swam of boda bodas convergent on all the four junctions; everyone focussed and some with as though a foolish curiosity ready to take off.

From an onlooker’s standpoint, a semblance of a suicidal mission at the verge of execution could be gathered from the vestiges of facial expressions of concentration and alertness of the riders and the general traffic.

The daringly energetic approach to their work, with almost insurmountable courage to try even amidst riskily blunt obstacles; the faith that I can breakthrough if I try; the positive attitude of always looking out for the quickest and available opening are some of the nuggets to learn.

So it is with life. One always just has to have a boda boda spirit to go on. Never looking back but forging ahead, making the most of every window of opportunity; being willing to take risks, even life threatening ones at times, is the only way you can be of relevance in Life.

Acres of green

Working in and living off Kampala exposes one to such strenuous environmental pressures. The jams, the noise, the fumes, the steam and the speed of life are simply exhausting.

Once a while, sneaking out to other parts of the Country a far off Kampala is good; thanks to the village and home town I come from.

As part of work, moving up country almost becomes inevitable; more so journeying to Arua, my traditional, original home town.

The town is gradually growing with lots of buildings coming up in various outskirts. Talking to different people, you can feel and see the optimism the people have as they look forward to the grand idea of the eco-city. Some business fellows and ordinary people alike all in anticipation are seemingly saving their monies to acquire a portion of this ingeniously magnificent city.

Driving through the town itself, you cannot fail to capture the old infrastructure littering the new or at least renovated structures. People mingling in the heat and dust as they ride or walk down and up the streets making money or ends meet.

Busy, would be close to an understatement. Yet quite truthfully, busy, one can get in such settings even several hundreds of kilometres away from the capital city. Most often one misses out on the simple things and even the need to truly enjoy life.

Tacked off the edge of the main town is Arua Hill atop of which is a hotel that overlooks the site of the soon to be eco-city situated at Borifa. Together with a friend, I took a deliberate stand to find a place and sit to rest, take pleasure in a soda and praise God for the good things he creates for us to enjoy as I gazed at the green forest.

Off a desistance of about 2-3 kilometres, you see a patch of clear land toward the edge with no trees but containers, a portion the district leaders were once attempting to reclaim from an alleged land grabber. Further still, you capture the roof of Emmanuel Cathedral.

Towards the south east side, you gaze into some houses at the edge of the green. To the south, you see structures being built and green roofs appearing on long stretched structures which occurred to me is the site of the new Muni University.

The further you gaze, the green fades into blue and deeper blue turns misty and then horizon sky blue. All the while thoughts of beauty, grandeur, and hopeful imagination filled my mind of the eco-city soon to sit in the acres of green.

After nearly two hours of sitting on this hill, refreshment, renewal, restoration and tranquillity are but few of the feelings evoked from within. It’s always beautiful to pull off the busy spaces of life just to unwind and enjoy life quiescent. You sure do need to!

It is what I call myself that matters

It was a slope, straight into the heart of the averagely populated town basking with the steam of sweat and pants of breath under the hot sun.

No steep humps but few potholes to be afraid of as he rolled into the busy town. His dream was to be someone important and of relevance and so he adopted a code of conduct and dressing which predisposed him to smartness. Always jolly and amiable as he confidently and comfortably took his poise with a resolve to make the most of his day; Good morning! Good afternoon! Good evening!’ he retorts as he does the African thing, or rather the Ugandan thing, greeting everyone who cares to hear and in turn greet him.

Looking at him from afar, many people’s attention would be skewed to his wheelchair which effortlessly, gently and yet surely snakes its way across the road almost surmounting any barrier. This was not just a wheelchair, it was a part of him; his legs.

Off a corner, a man gasps in a loud whisper to another at a side gaze of him as though one who cannot govern the pressure of his presumptive exclamation, ‘that mulema is very rich!’ as they keep tweeting, watching wheel chair forge its way on! He smiled to himself pretending not to have heard and rode on!

Following almost aimlessly as he gazes in admiration, a young boy drawn by his childish curiosity, fascinated and so absorbed by the three legged miraculous machine and after a kilometer, he shouted disrespectfully, ‘how are you mulema?’ and then run away.

Almost in a split second, shouted another man, ‘ombere, ikini mivini tayi su indi ‘diniya? (Lame man! You also want to put on neck ties?) The local intonation and context suggesting he was not a real person deserving to do so. It cut him to his heart! He could not hold it. Tears mingled with anger, pain, regret, despair and anguish, fell from his eyes. All alone, dejected and unwanted he felt.

They always called him ombere; they never knew his real name and didn’t even care or want to. They knew him for his looks and what he seemed not to have.

But he smiled again and mattered, ‘it is not what they call me, it is what I call myself that matters’ So he let go the pain and in a sigh as though of relief, lifted up his face like he remembered something significant; he said it loud and smiled away to his real name.

Oku –nyoia

Anyoia is an Alur delicacy, a fusion of boiled beans and maize. A typical ordinary Alur breakfast or lunch, as far as I have known, would be endowed with this intense synthesis of a meal which is often served with a cup of black tea and in moneyed settings with milk tea. 

The same dish is called ‘githeri’ among some tribes of Kenya and ‘nyoyo’ in another. Whatever name it is called, its ingredients are basically the same staples. Having eaten it from different cultural settings before, you can almost feel the slight variation in the taste; thanks to the cultural differences or may be the names.

Okunyoia, is not a verb in Luganda. In fact nothing like that exists. It however is an imaginative concoction by a friend I shared the said meal with, this time round in Kenya a few weeks ago. The concoction arose from a question on what the process of preparing anyoia is called leading to the invention of the word ‘oku nyoia’.

It was supper time, around 10:00pm in a small village in the western Kenya. We had all washed our hands ready to eat. It was rice served with anyoia this time round. Never had I eaten anyoia as source with rice before; however, the two served independently was familiar taste. What I had to add up was the taste of these two solid foods mixed on one plate.

Amen! And down went the first spoonful of this jumble into my mouth as I meditatively chewed to discern the autonomous and joint taste in my mouth. Not too bad, in fact a good taste it was. The only challenge that I faced in fact was just that I had never had this mix this way before.

As we ate, commentaries on various foods began with funny descriptions of the feelings aroused in ingestion them which all together made the supper time a joyful and exciting one. We talked of Chapatti and how that most men love it; we talked of sukuma wiki, a gracious vegetable delicacy enjoyed with Ugali in Kenya; and we talked of anyoia, its various names as far as any one present at the table knew. 

To my mind came the thoughts that we need to learn to blend and accommodate each other’s differences. Just because another person does a thing a little different from you or looks different shouldn’t divide us. 

The staples that blend us are the same. What differentiates us as cultural values, upbringing, training or languages that we adapt are minor compared to our common heritage and value as human beings.

Accepting those small differences and seeking to enjoy the taste of what makes us human as we mix with other peoples, tribes and nations should be our common goal.

The Economics of the Storm

Suffice it to say, normally in Kampala, especially in the rainy seasons, after a stormy down pour, all streets, subways, run ways, even walkways too get thickly jam-packed with cars, and some stuck for being deficient in fuel or mechanical evils. One often wonders where and why all this swarm of vehicles that congests our tapered infrastructure leading in and out of the City come from after the gracious rains.

Sitting in such a ram of cars killing time, snailing a meter or two per every ten to fifteen minutes is nearly idyllic. Crisscrossing of vehicles in junctions, round-abouts or even walkways is cluttered; with some knocking each other further adding salt to the injury.

Kampala has this heavy jams that sometimes necessitates a little more knowledge of some extra ordinary roads, closes, or even panyas stretching down into galleys, valleys; windings, turnings and twists, ins and outs from gaudy buildings neighboring putrid slams. In a grand attempt to navigate ones way out of it, the beatitude ‘blessed are the drivers who know many roads for they shall escape jams’ releases its true holiness.

In the midst of this iconic mystification, most especially when the drizzles are light or its just sultry, vendors of all sorts retailing various kinds of goods ranging from air-time, electrical appliances, mechanical tools, personal effects to grocery and even some artifacts profit as they bazaar their merchandize from one car window to the next.

‘This has been it for ages!’ one can safely assert. Even when the regulatory authorities of the City tried to clamp down on it, somehow these merchants have kept at their trade unabated. For those exodused into some organized affluence of modernism this is a state of lawlessness while to others that have known this as the biggest and best of all cities they have ever been to, it’s normalcy.

The convenience this trade brings to occupants of a vessel in such critical hours is to explain for its continuous flourishing. From vehicles needing fuel, to fixing of mechanical tribulations, satisfying a hunger or quenching thirst, to making an emergency call, to finding an alternative escape route and many more are the desires engrossed in such clatter.

Talk of the economics of a wrong or evil or immorality and all such things as are communally condemned, here is the proof. I guess it’s true, every coin has two sides. Your best Kampala street preacher would say it, and like an Amen to it affirm that ‘there always is a good in your storm’. Take the merchants view of things.

Fond memories of this wealth around me

Waking up early is one of the things I like and especially to do something that fits in and reduces the burden of my work in the day. Given that it is quiet and serene it is one of those moments of time to catch.

Today was one such day and this time round I had this grand privilege to write out invitation cards to some of my friends I am calling for my wedding due to happen soon.

The excitement nearly died out because I realized that when it comes to friends, it seems I am wealthy. I have them in all shapes, colors, sizes and of different backgrounds, opinions and beliefs. Some are acquaintances and there are really core ones who I would call real friends.

So I wondered who deserves these cards! Real friends or acquaintances? Which of these real friends do actually deserve invitation cards and which ones don’t?

It dawned on me that my true friends actually do not need a card to come for my function. Actually the culture of where I come from bails me out nicely. People often and always freely come for functions as long as they get to know about it. They do not need a special invite.

So I thought for those who do not get any card or who are accustomed to cards this other side of life where my culture is almost shelved, feel free, you are welcome. I know there are some who will deserve a card because of their caliber or some other value embellished in them by some sort of responsibility they hold. To these a card is more than deserved.

But you see, it is only today that I appreciated that culture of mine. It defines in no uncertain terms who your friends, those who love you, your relations and enemies are. In fact functions such as these reveal your real wealth, the people in your life. You know it for the selflessness and the burden they are willing to shoulder because of you.

Therefore you do not limit, let alone by a card who wants to love you and be there for you and be a part of the happenings in your life. After all the functions that shape a life most often are the obscure and the attendants are not invited most times.

The truthfulness of this culture is that the real people who come into and are a part of your life are not invited per se. They are there somehow; they just come; not because you invited them or gave them anything of benefit at all. Life maybe I should say God places them where they need to be and when they need to be, freely.

So today I go to sleep refreshed by some of the fond memories of all this wealth around me; ever determined to cherish every moment and reminiscence of all who have fashioned me by being there for me.

Disability in the head

Today marks the beginning of the Paralympics in London that sees scores of several persons with abilities having some deformities take part in living their lives and dreams. Today also marks a historical gesture offered by Barcelona FC to Gabriel Muniz the 11 year old boy born without feet to train in their camp.

Muniz is said by the mother to have always been a fighter. That Muniz has had dreams of being a soccer player. His teacher says he is a child with a ‘can-do attitude and indefatigable spirit’ and as a result has won several medals as his school’s ‘star sportsman’.

Almost on the darker side, there is that story of the Malawian government that couldn’t support the dreams of some other Muniz’s who had hoped to step into their dream from tonight in the Paralympics.

The Malawian government leaders have stamped with approval the adage ‘Disability only exists inside our heads’ by failing to support the Malawian Paralympics dreams; by failing to recognize that they not only have extinguished the beacons of those great dreamers to shine but have deadened the spirits of many.

 In Africa, indeed in Uganda, the Malawian leadership attitude exemplifies the leadership and more so the societal mindset towards PWD’s. That mindset is a key disabler of dreams and aspirations of persons with abilities who have some deformities. Such a mindset is seen in the lack of funding for activities like sports, lack of training facilities which are tips of the real iceberg.

It continues to take the fighting spirit of the Muniz’s, the continuous dreaming and dedication of individual parents, couches and teachers to bring out the best in many other Muniz’s among us.

This throws a challenge to the national council of sports for Uganda to consider the development of such sports, identifying talents, providing facilities and training.

Resized

Everyone else has these moments when they devalue themselves. You feel like ‘I’m not worthy’ or something a little less than a high standard is okay to go by of cause, as long as it is not the least level at all. Patchiness to be precise is the word I suppose.

Many other people have experiences like this, at least Kiprotich, our ‘golden boy’ of London Olympics 2012 shares the same feelings with me. That is why I am also a golden boy in my own Olympia. Making one of those press statements, at least the most I heard being played as a news byte is ‘I will not die a useless man!’

Going through difficulties, struggles, and adversities in life most often predisposes one’s mind to such feelings of worthlessness or uselessness. Where the right attitude is not adopted, one might sink in and be abased to wretchedness. Many who have been privileged to be archived in the annals of history like Prophet Elijah, Moses, David the King in the bible; Martin Luther, Nelson Mandela, mother Theresa including me (yet to be) testify to this.

My mind is drawn to these words alluded to Nelson Mandela, ‘There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.’

Yet sometimes to arrive at this pivotal point of the junction between the vile and noble stands the a voice of one who knows you; who should believe in you, trust you and invest their time to couch, mentor, encourage, prepare, resize and present you the platform to shine.

I was in a meeting and a friend looked at me and said, you are no ordinary, you still deserve better than you think you do. See, you need to resized yourself to fit the real you.

The threads of success

The papers were awash with today pictures of Kiprotich! What a glorious celebration of success, stardom, victory, glamour, whatever you choose to call it. This is what we all waited for what we all wanted to see from the beginning.

Our expectations were finally met in Kiprotich, when we had all lost our hopes of getting any gold. If you listened to the various radio stations or watched TV stations or read commentaries and columns in news papers, you would not miss the disenchantment, the nuisance, the defeat all tucked up the minds and expectations of Ugandans of team Uganda.

Complaints, blasphemy, blame, accusations, condemnations, abuses, calling of names marred the air was as program after program Ugandans woke up to vent their anger at the performance of our only hopefuls like Dorcus Inzikuru and Kipsiro as they fell way below set world standards of performance.

Ugandans gave up and never ever expected the star of Kiprotich to rise amidst the dark of disdain. But when you pick up the papers and other media in Uganda, you pick up the story behind Kiprotich’s victory.

Threads of hard work, determination, never giving up amidst adversity and trying situations knit together the talent, and resilience of the personality of Kiprotich to beautifully crown this glorious victory as a mark in the apex of history.

Kiprotich outlasted all of our patience, our hopes and expectations as Ugandans during the 2012 Olympics with his own fervent diligence which he so graciously has nurtured for long to realize this gold medal.

At a point, before he overtook his contenders on that long track, he seemed to be limping and stressing under the pain of hard work and at a time thought, maybe he won’t make it to the front. But that gallant attitude and spirit of a winner sprung as though unnoticed to work its way right to the top to grab the gold medal. The same thread patiently used through time knits the pieces of everyone else’ success!

Indelible Marks

It helps just to connect with people, to listen to the things others are saying; to hear others stories of why they are different. We all have needs as humans that make all of us common. Wisdom often dwells in simplicity and not the sophisticated complexion of vain knowledge.

He is a driver and this time I had hired him as we drove home. Many things we chatted out from some minor politics, sports and then social life till we reached this humbling and yet learning point for me.

We were meant to branch off to the right at this T junction. The traffic was intense with heavy trucks flowing consistently back and forth as we were caught up in the midst of the road. With a speeding truck still a distance of 10 to 15 meters approaching. 

I remembered what another driver would do. It happened once and I was uncomfortable. Later it happened the second and third times where he branched at the right side of the junction and not the left. I guess complacency crept in and the feeling of discomfort left. Instead a feeling of bravery, sharpness arose to swallow my sense of reason and right.

Then I told him what the other driver used to do, in a way suggesting that it was okay for him to do the same.

‘You see, I had a supervisor when I had just started working and driving. Every day I would bring the car back with scratches due to the reckless nature of driving in Kampala. My other bosses recommended my dismissal but this supervisor would say, no, he is young and has been driving in the village, he will catch up’ he retorted.

‘Then the supervisor took me aside and said my son, when you are driving, be steady… do this and the other… to be a better driver. From that day, I do not get cars scratched unless it is someone else’ mistake.’

Mentoring gave him a chance to survive. He could not do what the other first driver would do because some older, more experienced and caring supervisor; not related to him by consanguinity, dared to call him son. That mentor crafted and curved a mark of professionalism, patience and distinction not even the excitement of foolish bravery could attempt to erase.

Determination Thespian

Madam teacher Sally was her name and I was in Primary Two when I first heard her say these words of ‘wisdom’ which I later learnt was also the motto of a school, ‘determination is the key.’ Determination is the key word for me as I sat and watched the 2012 Olympics 3000 meters steeple chase race where one of the very key participants or at least the one who evoked most attention was Dorcus Inzikuru.

She has been a gold medalist before and then things took sort of a downward trend for her after she gave birth to her first child and then went through challenges in her relationship, news which was awash in all news media in Uganda.

Dorcus is known to me, being an OG from Secondary School. Since the days of her ascent to stardom and glory, I have never had chance to meet with, let alone being in touch. So I am not going to claim to have been the one who made her win the gold medals she did.

Driving around northern by-pass, Kyebando or Bukoto areas in the outskirts of Kampala city you would not miss her doing her thing, every morning. Most often she would be alone, appear so focused, speeding as she run and would wave at people who cared to wave at her.

One fortunate morning I by passed her around Kyebando, she saw me and I stopped to greet this old friend. She was breathing hard, looked sweaty from her morning jogging. She showed me the house she was staying in after some two three minutes chat and said she was preparing for the Olympics qualifiers.  I did not know when or where they were meant to be though I wished her well and we parted. I was so happy to later learn that she actually qualified for the 2012 London Olympics.

Knowing where she hails from and the things she had been through, you would see a person determined and single hearted at succeeding again especially having tasted the sweetness of success on a world stage. Personal determination, self drive, hard work and simplicity are few of the memorable qualities she exudes from her personality.

Today saw her win that same race she won a few years back again. Don’t scold me please! I know she did not get the gold or silver or even the bronze! You could see her strive as though exhaustibly as she through her strides on the track.

She staged what Madam Teacher Sally said to me so long ago, determination! Going through her experiences, pushing through nearly alone with so little, if any, support from her country, she was my heroine today! Time, given time and with the right resources, that same key can and will earn her another gold.

Struck By the Ebola Bane

There are these times when something happens and you kind of get the feeling that it is far off, or maybe it will not get to where you are. What often cushions our pseudo fences or rather fears of such life threatening news, especially where it is a disease like ebola, nodding syndrome or HIV AIDS, is the make belief that where it is happening is far off or that it is not affecting a person near enough or known to us.

It is in Kagadi, or in the West or North! The people living in the actual fear should be those dwelling in such places. Often whether Christians or not, people kind of would talk of praying for them; whether in fact they do is another story.

Yes, it is all over the news, TV or Radio discussions but it kind of sounds like what has been there before and somehow you feel it will go away somehow or they will deal with it anyhow!

Then walks in a gentleman to my office that carries this poise of a political analyst of some sorts and tends to speak intelligibly about issues in the news, what’s hot and ne bigendereko! (I hope that is right). His view is that ebola is a sign of poverty! It is not my view, I know you know! By no means I’m I undermining the impact of such diseases!

Well, the ordinary me enjoys and loves to greet. Not touching the palms of another superficially but giving a thoroughly firm grip of their hand; may be a sign of my own villageness.

Then walks in another young man who had this amazingly inviting smile to which one would of necessity be drawn to respond to definitely with teeth flashing! And as is my trend, out-stretched went my hand to greet him. This time round, the gentleman hesitated, held back his hand and retorted there is ebola! The president says people should stop giving handshakes!

Shamefully and shyly I drew back my hand and it struck me that this ebola scourge, whether the analyst opines it as poverty, besides killing people, can actually kill off some of those cultures and practices we all have been so fond of.

Wheeled down the aisle

In a car on the way to work, I tuned to one of my favorite radio stations to catch up with the stories of the day. This time round it was a discussion on a story of a lady who had taken her boyfriend to be introduced to her family. The family of the lady seemingly refused to accept the fact that their daughter would marry a man of such a nature, a disabled man on a wheelchair. They discouraged her, and asked her to drop the idea.

I picked interest and keenly listened in as caller after caller shared their views. One of the presenters of the program then commented that every parent dreams of the day their girl would bring home the man of her dreams; a man who will walk her down the aisle. ‘No parent imagines her girl taking a man down the aisle in a wheelchair’.

One caller commented that it is all about love. If they love each other, the parents should let them be. ‘If they continue against the wishes of her parents, it may not go well with her someday in the future’ the discussion went on.

I sat back to think as I listened in, what could be going on in the mind of the parents of this guy, the subject of this discussion. What dreams do they have regarding their son? Will any girl, let alone the beautiful ones, agree to ever marry our son? If she does, because of love of course, will her parents be agreeable to it?

How about the subject of the discussion? What questions would be going through his mind? How does he deal with the realities of such a candid and deliberate rejection from his would be parents in law? Would he cope with it or overcome it? Will he ever dream of love again?

With a deep longing, I desired to see or even meet that young man, look him in the eye and say to him ‘hold on!’ ‘Don’t give up on love!’ ‘Know that someone still cares about you and loves you!’ well it was time, a commercial run and soon there was sports news as time and the day went.

Much respect is deserved by parents of a girl who relentlessly and with gladness that comes from trust let go the hands of their beautiful girl, onto the handles of a wheelchair rather than into the hands of a lovely young man walking her down the aisle. Greater admiration, in fact love, is deserved by that girl too, who chooses, despite all odds, not to be walked but wheeled down the aisle.

Is Registration of marriages a new thing?

Various sections of the society, most especially the religious groups have with a great euphoria condemned the recent attempt to enforce the registration of marriages by the Uganda Registration Services Bureau. Some have seen it as an attack on the role bestowed on religious clerics to bless marriage unions; or that it is a colonial law intent on regulating something that is an inherent right; or a ploy to get money from churches among others.

Historical view

Various marriage practices around the world in different cultures have since followed the cultural dictates of the societies where such marriages have been created.

Among the ancient Greece there was no requirement for a civil ceremony to constitute a valid marriage. The parties involved, the husband and wife had to have a mutual agreement to regard each other as such.[i]

While the ancient Roman Society celebrated several types of marriages among which were the traditional marriage called ‘conventio in manum’ and the free marriage called ‘sine manu’. While these marriages required a formal ceremony with witnesses, there was the bedrock of inheritances. In the former, the woman lost her inheritance right in her father’s home and gained an inheritance right from her husband. This placed the woman under the authority of her husband while in the latter; the woman remained under the full authority of her father and thus never lost her inheritance rights from her father.[ii]

The early Christian era between 30 and 325 AD mirrored the thought of marriage as a private matter with no requirement of uniform religious or other ceremony. Other sources of writings indicate however that around 110AD suggestions of a necessity of the approval of the bishop was requisite that ....’Marriage may be according to God, and not after their own lust.’ It appears therefore church involvement was to ensure moral sanctity of the institution of marriage.[iii]

Until 1545, Christian marriages in Europe were by mutual consent, declaration to marry and upon the consummation. The presence of a priest and witnesses was not required. By the middle ages, the church played the role of registering marriages though this was not obligatory. During this time, the church opposed marriages that were imposed or arranged and promoted free consent of parties. With the wider spread of Christianity this view of free consent spread.

However after the Protestant reformation, the role of recording marriages and setting the rules of marriage passed to the state as a classical mirror image of Martin Luther’s view that marriage was a ‘worldly thing’[iv]. By 17^th Century many of the Protestant European Countries embraced state involvement in marriage matters. In England, marriage by consent and cohabitation was valid until the Lord Hardwicke’s Act in 1753; this Act whose full title was “An Act for the Better Preventing of Clandestine Marriage” brought on board the formal requirement of the performance of a religious ceremony observed by witnesses.

Clandestine marriages were those which had an element of secrecy to it: having taken place away from a home parish, and without either banns or marriage license.

The mischief at the time was the difference in Scots Law and the role of the separate established Church of Scotland. There grew a tradition of couples from England and Wales eloping to Scotland, most famously to marry at border towns. While the British required a parental consent and set a minimum age of 21 for marriage, parental consent was not required in Scotland and the age of marriage was 16 years.

The Marriage Act of 1753 however fell short in that it only legally recognized marriages in Britain and Wales which were performed in a parish church by a clergyman in the Church of England. This meant that Roman Catholics and members of other ‘dissenting congregations’, as also atheists, Muslims, Hindus or members of any other religious body, had to be married according to the Anglican rites and ceremonies which they did not support.

The Counter-Reformation in 1563 decreed that a marriage would be recognized only if the marriage ceremony was solemnized by a priest with two witnesses. In the early modern period John Calvin with his Protestant colleagues reformulated Christian marriage by enacting the Marriage Ordinance of Geneva, which imposed “the dual requirements of state registration and church consecration to constitute marriage for recognition.[v]

Another Marriage Act of 1836 was promulgated to remedy a situation where Christians belonging to non-Anglican churches were concerned. Until this time, civil registration of marriages was an alternative to church marriage. It allowed ministers belonging to other churches to register marriages performed in their churches with the government, thus granting legal status to those marriages.[vi]

Besides stemming conduct considered to be immoral, the basis of registration of Marriages seemed pegged to a somewhat discriminative legislation. Civil registration of marriages was meant to be a cure to the illegality or legal lacuna created by an otherwise religiously discriminative legal regime.

The Ugandan Legislation

English law, which is the legal system of England and Wales, is the basis of common law which was exported to all British Colonies and thus the Commonwealth countries of which Uganda is. The Marriage Act Cap 251 which came into force on the 1^st of April 1904 sought to entrench the British values into the protectorate.

Unlike the English law that had some religious discrimination, the Marriage Act of Uganda under s.20 recognized marriages celebrated in any licensed place of worship by any recognized minister of the church, denomination or body to which the place of worship belongs, and according to the rites or usages of marriages observed in that church, denomination or body.  This thus made provision for other persons practicing other faiths other than the Anglican Christian faith. It is this provision that emboldens the requirement of having a licensed recognized place of worship and a recognized minister.

Subsequently, the enactment of the Marriage and Divorce of Mohammedans Act to cater for Moslems, Marriage o Africans Act, Hindu Marriage and Divorce Act for Hindus all have provisions for registration of the various marriages.

The Marriage Act created marriage districts superintended by registrar of marriages. Under s.23, Registrars, and recognized Ministers are to be provided with books of marriage certificates in duplicate and with counterfoils. Immediately after the celebration of any marriage by a minister, the officiating minister is required to fill out in duplicate a marriage certificate with the particulars required. The minister then signs the certificate in duplicate, sever the duplicate there from and deliver once certificate to the parties and within seven days thereafter transmit the other to the registrar of marriages for the district in which the marriage takes place, who shall file it in his or her office.

The Act makes it mandatory to register marriage certificates in the Marriage Register Book and copies certified to be true and correct copies are admissible as evidence of the existence of the marriage. Under s.46, failure to comply to with this obligation attracts a penal sanction after conviction to imprisonment for a period not exceeding two years.

It is important to note that failure to register the Marriage Certificate does not invalidate the marriage.

Under S.34 (2) the only grounds that would invalidate a marriage are knowingly and willfully acquiescing the celebration of the marriage (a) in any place other than the office of a registrar of marriages or a licensed place of worship, except where authorized by the Minister’s license; (b) under a false name or names; (c) without the registrar’s certificate of notice or Minister’s license duly issued; or (d) by a person not being a recognized minister of some religious denomination or body, or a registrar of marriages.

All marriages celebrated under the Marriages Act as provided by s.35 are good and valid to all intents and purposes.

Why register marriages?

From the onset, the foundation of registration of marriages was to really deal with curbing a moral vice within the society. It hoped to legitimize and give moral value to the contractual relations being entered into by the people; to provide redress to parties in the event of dissolution of the marriage.  

The Indian Supreme Court’s directive dated 14.2.2006 as a result of the Seema vs. Ashwani Kumar case (2006 (2) SCC 578) set it as mandatory to register all marriages, irrespective of the religion, caste or creed.

Accordingly the following are various advantages of registering a marriage:

1.       Succession of property to the surviving spouse becomes easy.

2.       A second marriage can be solemnized in the event of the dissolution of the first marriage.

3.       In case of legal separation, divorce, alimony, if the court needs to decide on the transfer of property or the custody of children, a certificate of marriage is required to be produced in the family court.

4.       If one of the partners wants to work abroad and wants to take along his/her other half then a marriage certificate is required to obtain a work permit from the respective country’s consulate. Foreign consulates refuse to issue work permit without the marriage certificate in such cases.

5.       Preventing men from abandoning their wives after marriage.

6.       Ensuring a minimum legal age for marriage

7.       Stopping the practice of child marriage.

8.       Preventing the exploitation and trafficking of women by an Indian or a foreigner under the guise of marriage.

9.       Facilitating women in claiming maintenance.

10.   Facilitating women in exercising the right to live at her matrimonial residence.

11.   Preventing bigamy and polygamy wherever it is considered illegal.

12.   Facilitating widows in inheriting their husband’s property and other privileges in the event of the death of her husband.

13.   Preventing the solemnization of marriage in case either or both parties are unwilling to enter into a marriage.[vii]

The various reasons espoused for registration lend credence to the pursuit by the Uganda Registration Services Bureau in ensuring that registration of marriages is effectively conducted.

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[i] "Marriage, a History." Psychology Today, May 01, 2005

[ii] Witte Jr., John (1997). From Sacrament to Contract: Marriage, Religion, and Law in the Western Tradition. Westminster John Knox Press. pp. 39–40. ISBN 0-664-25543-4.

[iii] "St. Ignatius of Antioch to Polycarp (Roberts-Donaldson translation)". Earlychristianwritings.com. 2006-02-02. http://www.earlychristianwritings.com/text/ignatius-polycarp-longer.html. Retrieved 2010-08-27.

[iv] Witte Jr., John (1997), supra.

[v] Witte Jr., John (1997), supra.

[vi] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Contract_of_marriage visited on 13/6/2012

[vii] http://www.legalguide.in/matrimonial-diputes/13-reasons-why-marriage-registration-in-india-is-important/ visited on 13/6/2012