Thomas Rogers Muyunga Mukasa, Poet, Story Teller, Griot from Africa shares poem-stories about San Francisco, Bay Area, California and USA. Enjoy!

Imagine my surprise when I was granted residency in USA. I was overjoyed. Am told, back in Uganda the people from my village spent two days celebrating. I mean the village where my father was born. We call it the ancestral home. It is the place where both my mother and father (RIP) are buried.

I happened to have lived in this village for one full year and got to know the life of rural Ugandans then. I may not be able to tell you about everything. But, I wish to share with you a celebration of victory of a member of parliament I happened to have canvassed votes for in 2006.

It was a tight, acrimonious race. For one and half months between January 2006-Feb 2006, we were criss-crossing this electoral area. Two main aspirants were neck to neck. I am a pacifist and believe in reason. I am not one to raise my voice when am arguing. Please do not think am judging those who use other approaches to convince electorates. The winner takes it all! The candidate I backed was a former Roman Catholic Priest. He was not one to use abusive language. We used the power of organizing and question and answer approach as we conducted our campaigning. We used bicycles (colloquially called doves), bear foot cavalry, mothers, youths and elderly people were our volunteers! At one time I my megaphone run out of batteries and I resorted to shouting out loud. I called on electorates and reminded them of the names of the candidate to vote. I used the small beaten paths. I found people in the gardens, I went with some to the wells, I met many in the trading points.

The rival aspirant was the National Resistance Movement (NRM) Party flag bearer ( the same party of the present day president of the Republic Of Uganda), he had so much money and an idea that difference in opinion meant enmity! Our camp was fearless, we had support among the quiet majority. Our rival had support among main stream religions, government employees and many who saw themselves as 'cadres.'  To be a cadre was taken to mean insiders.We were hounded by those who had more license of impunity. Government operatives were said to be in readiness to catch us at an electoral fault. We had anticipated all this and we had a fail proof but simple strategic security plan laid down. We had the sympathy of many. What many did not know was that in 2001 we had actually voted the same President in power and then we worked together. The candidate I seconded presented his credentials as an independent candidate having fallen out with the President!  Fast forward!

The candidate I supported won resoundingly! The electoral zone in question had 25 small trading centres, 450 villages, 16 parishes and 4 Sub-counties with a total population of about 80,000. Of these, 20,000 were voters. We had 12,000 votes. There was drumming, singing and merry-making for three days in the different villages. This occurred mostly in areas where our candidate had many votes. When I told some of my friends that am on the path to becoming a citizen in USA, I was told this kind of celebration may take place.

It means so much for me to become an American. It is a second chance. It is an opportunity to explore my fullest potential. As a scientist, I want to be part of the teams that will discover the HIV medication. I am a writer too. I want to share my writing with Americans. I come from a long lineage of African Traditional story tellers, poets, griots and healers. I want to practice this art in USA. I want to be part of the teams that promote a better America-Africa/Africa-America relations. I want to narrate my experiences in USA through poem-stories. I learnt this art from the elders in Africa.

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