"Me I don't even think we are independent"

Nine year old Jenny is watching cartoons at six in the morning when her dad comes rushing out of the bedroom with his coat and tie in one hand and a pair of shoes in the other. She ambushes him and insists on sharing her views about independence, although she seems not to have a good idea about the subject. She blabbers on leaving her papa, a government minister, who is rushing to attend the national independence celebrations, almost defenseless.

Jenny: Dad are you still going to Kololo to listen to the president posing and abusing Obote? Are you going to watch those very many army men standing in the rain and some fainting in the sun? Are you going to samala at those big army cars wasting our fuel as they are driven slowly for the president to see them? As if he has never seen them before. And to see him being driven very slowly on his jeep as if he cannot walk faster?

Dad: Yes my dear. Duty calls. We have to celebrate independence. And bambi he won’t abuse Obote this time my dear.

Jenny: But I thought it is supposed to be a public holiday. That you would stay home and have some quality time with us. And after lunch you would take us out to play and eat a lot of ice cream. And then bring us back. And then you take mummy out also. And you come back so late when you are so tired and drunk. And then you go to your bedroom and laugh. And mummy cries a bit as you two shout about how nice independence is.

Dad: Jenny! Jenny my dear, you are talking about Christmas. It is just two months away and this time it is going to be so special. I promise.

Jenny: But dad, this independence thing we are celebrating. Me I don't even think we are independent! We should even be colonized afresh.

Dad: What?! Where the hell did you get that idea from?

Jenny: From school. Mr. Kasoma told us so.

Dad: Is that your Social Studies teacher? That opposition guy who rides a boda boda?

Jenny: Yeah. But it is a motorcycle dad, not a boda B!

Dad: I think that young man should be fired. He is misleading you. A guy like him who doesn't know what independence is shouldn't be on the national payroll.

Jenny: Then take away the payroll. Us we like him. He is soooooo handsome. and he is funny too.

Jenny: Anway, me I believe we are not independent. We should not even celebrate independence. And do you know why?

Dad: Jenny, I am afraid I have to go. Say hi to your mother when she finally wakes up.

Jenny: You are not listening to me dad! You have started treating me like mum and yet you always say you love me.

Dad: I love you two. You and mum. So very much. But I have to go.

Jenny: So you love the president and his independence party more than us. You are rushing to go and listen to him for hours and cannot even listen to your daughter for just ten minutes. Okay. Okay.

Dad: Alright Jenny come sit here. I am sorry for treating you that way. Please tell me, why do you think we are not independent?

Jenny: Dad, I want you to know that I love it when you carry me on your lap. I love it so much. Okay, I was saying we are not independent because of so many things. I cannot even remember most of them. But Mr. Kasoma said that we are still dependent on our former colon masters and their friends.

Dad: Colonial master! As in ko- lo-ni-yo.

Jenny: Thank you! But bambi don't interrupt me. I will get lost! He said that we rely on those people and other developed countries for a lot of things. They borrow us money to build our bad roads and they even become badder.

Dad: Lend! They lend us money. And it is not badder...

Jenny: They give us free mosquito nets and cheap medicine. They educate some of our people in outside countries for free. We cannot employ our people so they run to them for jobs. They decide how much they pay for our coffee and they can even say they don't like our bananas. He said although we have oil, we cannot get it out of the soil without calling them to help us and promising to give them half of it. We have failed to learn and write our languages and we force ourselves to use English very properly. Kale we even laugh at our mayor when he makes jokes in English. Mbu we even use their names as if we are not proud of our own. Me I don't even want to be called Jenny anymore!

Dad: Okay from today I shall be calling you Namisango.

Jenny: Eh eh. Kyoka daddy! Me I hate that gu name. You call me Nami at least. Like Naomi without the O.

Dad: Okay from today you will be called Nami.

Jenny: So now are you going to be like a loving dad and stay home with us today, after me showing you that we are still dependent?

Dad: You know Jenny, sorry, Nami. I have to go and celebrate our independence, or dependence as you and Mr. Kasoma might be thinking. I am a minister who understands these things a little better than you and your friend Mr. Kasoma. When I come back in the evening, I will tell you the truth about independence. But as for now, just take Mr. Kasoma's word and make a wish.

Jenny: Please buy me some chocolate and ice cream. Dad remember me I am still depending on you!