How to achieve transformational leadership in 3 days

The iron sheets saga continues like a relentless telenovela minus the well-chiselled men and haplessly beautiful damsels.

Will the dragnet of arrests reach the big fish, the creme dela crème of gamba n’ogu? Hope against hope! For now, the dragnet contentedly reels in surface water flunkies who recently joined the table, and started chomping loudly like they also fought.

State Minister for Planning Amos Lugoloobi, who is facing prosecution for his part in the iron sheets scandal, spent six nights in state custody before his successful application for bail. At a thanksgiving ceremony following his temporary release, he told of his shock at the appalling living conditions in police detention cells and the national prison.

Lugoloobi, who wept when the court remanded him to Luzira prison, thanked divine providence for his jail experience, remarking, “I think God planned that as minister for planning, I had to be arrested and subsequently remanded to Luzira prison so that I can witness the bad situation in jail and work towards improving prisoners’ lives.”

Lugoloobi, before his arrest, bristled indignantly at being branded a thief. He seemed irritated that his act of receiving 300 iron sheets with no questions asked, which iron sheets he then used for his animal shed, amounted to theft, according to the public. This irked him so much that he deroofed his animal shed calling the iron sheets ‘evil.’

Perhaps this is where we have ourselves to blame. We have ‘allowed’ our leaders to live in a privileged Uganda, far from the harsh realities of many ordinary Ugandans. Our politicians love to mollycoddle us, calling us ‘wananchi’ whereas the benevolent president calls us ‘bazzukulu.’

In the early years of the ruling regime, the term ‘wananchi’ conjured up images of a great and mighty citizenry working together with their revolutionary leaders leading them toward prosperity. Now, wananchi is that picture of the begging hands grateful to chance upon one of Uganda’s pampered fat cats.

The fat cats in the spirit of amassing likes and followers carefully choreographed evidence of their kindness to their beggar citizens. When the privilege of our leaders collides with the stark reality of the beggar citizens, the leaders soak up the opportunity to masquerade as Father Christmas, dazzling with shiny trinkets while living the realities of the people largely untouched.

Perhaps, we should rethink the privilege with which we surround our leaders. What if representing the people included walking as they walk without the privilege of a high-powered vehicle with its dark-tinted windows?

The parliamentarian’s children studying alongside the children of their voters in government schools, the Universal Primary Education (UPE) schools with their poor facilities, inadequate supplies, demotivated teachers, and high dropout rates among others?

What if being a leader meant accessing the same facilities their constituents use, the run-down facilities running on empty? Imagine, if minister Chris Baryomunsi, after collapsing in his constituency, did not have the luxury of a military airlift to a better facility in Kampala?

As the trending Uganda Healthcare Exhibition has highlighted, the wananchi do not have the luxury of military airlifts from their rural backwaters. If they die, they die!

On February 26, the Minister of Health tweeted about the bravery and sacrifice of a nurse risking her life to ensure young children in a far-flung backwater in Bulambuli district, received their vaccinations. The Minister commended this nurse as ‘Nurse of the Year’.

If it were not for our painful attachment to empty sloganeering and mediocrity, we would reject the Minister’s high praise as superficial and condescending. Why should it be just the ‘Nurse of the Year’ risking her life to deliver government services?

Let us level the field, spread the risk, and make the Health Ministry headquarters similarly inaccessible. Imagine the ministry leaders having to make their way up a precariously steep ladder to access their plush offices!

Similarly, on April 10, the Vice President tweeted about finding a young boy studying alongside the roadside under a streetlight in Katakwi district.

The Vice President, touched by the zeal of the young boy, pledged to sponsor the boy’s education until university. Of course, we are elated for the young boy but what about the millions of children that struggle and/or drop out because of such challenges?

Will the Vice President’s sympathetic broad shoulders carry them too? We do not want our leaders feeling sorry foras; as quislings, we already do that well enough on our own. We expect our leaders to harness their privilege and demand/create better systems to improve the lives of everyday Ugandans.

We do not hope for our political leaders to experience these stark realities but perhaps they should and thus, receive a resurrected perception of their privilege. Lugoloobi who experienced the harsh prison conditions said, “While in Luzira Prison, I had a conversation with some staff in my ministry, who had come to visit me, about the need to improve conditions in prisons. I want to tell you that we have started on this task.”

Experience, famed as the best teacher, might be just what the doctor ordered for Uganda’s political class.

smugmountain@gmail.com

The writer is a tayaad muzzukulu.