By Julius Peter Ochen
As Uganda flag flew half-mast today in vile memory of the over 30 young lives that perished at the shore of Lake Victoria last weekend, I propose to celebrate the man everyone loves to hate; Brian white. While most people saw conceit, hauteur and snoopiness in Mr White, I saw responsibility and sense of self obligation that can never be taken for an exhibition.
Whereas our invented leaders remained in their contentment, weeing the victims of ill-starred dinghy, Mr White stepped out of his coz, mindless of his a thousand dollars shoes striding in water and mad, hoping that perhaps, a life could still be saved. He was always the last person to leave the shore, in unimpressed mood; only to be the first to return the following morning. Mind you, White lost no relative in that death trap craft, he was just convicted by his own conscience, the conviction that eluded many of us “conscious-men”. Conceivably, we had better excuse, hoping that our heard molded empathy would pull a life out of that slayer beach.
Other puerile and inane leaders in Kampala didn’t hiatus at following the incident from their smart phones as White dirty himself to head, they had something nauseating, something sordid and repellant against the man in the trench. They dirtied the airwave with their voluptuous recordings attempting to discredit a cause they had no moral to snoop in. And just like those pretenders, some of us had the better fraction of their times and data panning, carping and slating Mr White’s presence at the strand. All along, I thought we were better than that, thanks to this tragedy.
I subscribe to contemporary philosophy that if your deeds are noble and glorifying, its not felonious sanctioning the world to know, perhaps a soul might be inspired to do the same, somewhere someday. Today, I celebrate you Mr White. And I believe that those your helped touched, without reservation pride momentously in your kind heart.
For God, and this country