Last week, I watched and read news stories of people being evicted from Kaliddubi Wetland, Busabala Parish, Makindye Ssabagabo in Wakiso District. The stories of the people whose homes were crushed to stone and rubble were heart-wrenching.
There was a young man, a boda boda rider, who told of how he had spent sleepless nights riding his bike just to make the extra buck to build his Shs23m house. He says he saved, skipped meals countless times, skipped sleep just to work the nights, rode through the rain and saved every shilling he would get with his savings club.
He also made use of some PDM money until, through all that sweat and pain, he was able to put up a structure for his six children. As he told this story, he was standing next to what used to be the proof of his ability to provide for his offspring and wife.
Another young woman said she has six children. Had hustled hard too and built a house for them, but alas, it had been destroyed. And before last year’s evictions, another had been a street vendor somewhere in the city centre. Then there was that video clip I wish I could ‘unsee’. The one of a woman who wanted to throw herself in front of speeding vehicles because of anguish from the demolishment but was held back by her little son.
As a veteran hustler, I know the pain that one goes through to survive these streets. Earth is hard! The involuntary fasts, wearing the same shoe for five years, wearing clothes that cost Shs3,000 not because you are frugal but because that is what you can afford. Losing friends because they do not understand that the reason you did not contribute to their wedding is that you actually did not have a dime.
Kwekazaring with the same synthetic hair braids for six months, never mind that the new growth is as long as the extensions or opting to stay home because going out means spending money you do not have, all because you are saving up to build something of importance such as paying up the mortgage for one of those nice town houses in Luboowa or in this case, that house in Busaabala.
Then when it is all done, when the suffering has as if paid off, the long arm of the law shows up and squashes your brick and clay accomplishments like a piece of paper. What would you do if it were you?
Me as me, I would not attempt to throw myself in front of a speeding car because the plan is to die in my sleep in a nice comfy bed, preferably at 98 years of age with Jesus by my bedside saying, ‘there there’, but yes, I too would be devastated.
I cannot help but wonder, though, who sanctions these constructions? Are they invisible to authorities when they are going up? Are they built overnight before anyone can stop them? Why allow them to build there in the first place, only to come years later and crash them? Why not avoid this whole messy situation by not allowing any constructions to go up in the first place?
Methinks the authorities or whoever enables those habitats to go up should be held accountable too. They too should share in the pain of the evicted encroachers. If the price for encroaching on wetlands and other gazetted areas is not shared along the lines of responsibility, it is going to keep happening. Whoever sells those people the illusion that they can build there should also pay for it.
We should not normalise anguish, especially from people who have lost everything or almost all. What do you think happens to one bitter young man with six mouths to feed? One who has tried to earn the right way but has been beaten down by the same law that should protect him?
One whose desire to provide for his family has been manipulated by a crooked system that allows him to build in a gazetted area?
Where do you think some of the merciless thugs that break into homes, workplaces or even open spaces to rob, maim and kill come from? If the goal is to conserve the environment, do it the right way.
Do not allow people to build and then come and demolish. Let there be no building at all. No action, however legal, lives in a vacuum. With such moves, the dominoes are bound to come crashing down, and again, like we always do, we will die in our own movie.