The hardest job to do right now is to be an officer of the Uganda Police Force. It gets trickier everyday. The police is everybody’s punching bag, but it has the physical instruments of punching, so when it punches back, nobody likes it. Where do I even start?
Last year? Many years ago? As long as I can remember, human rights activists have always accused the Ugandan police of abusing human rights. Then accountability activists accuse the police of corruption.
The political leadership accused the police of voting for Kizza Besigye; then Besigye accuses the police of working for the ruling party interests. The police just cant win!
But they will win, if they carry out the threat reportedly issued by the force’s public relations officer a week ago. Speaking at a local radio station, the PRO said enough is enough. Since police get blamed when they fire tear gas at opposition political demonstrators, and they get blamed when they hit them with batons, now they are going to spray them with.. how do I say it... human poop and fart.
Career activists, rioters
I am not sure about the pronunciation but whether it is spelt strawberry or deodorant, the fart smells like human digestive waste.
Apparently, there is a special spray that when directed at a demonstrator, he smells like strong human faeces for a long time after.
Can you beat that? Career activists have panicked and are now wetting their pants, mulling how to counter the cops.
Imagine you get so carried away by Kizza Besigye’s rhetoric, so you follow him as you chant anti-Museveni slogans. Then the police truck comes with its cannon blaring and instead of firing tear gas or itchy water, it sprays you with poop and farts. So you run away and they don’t even bother to chase you. Nobody in fact wants to chase you because everybody is running away from you!
Now assume you came twenty kilometres away by matatu to join your beloved political leader in a public demo in the heart of Kampala. How do you go back? No matatu or boda boda can carry you when you are stinking like the bottom of a latrine! You have to walk all the way.
And wherever you pass people keep running away holding their noses! But there could be an advantage though. Its called making lemonade when you are handed a bitter lemon.
For me, If I ever get caught in that melee – we call it kavuyo in Kampala, I will just walk into a restaurant – and the most expensive one at that. As everybody runs away, I will pick the most appetizing order which is ready and start munching away. Will anyone dare arrest me?
