#UgBlogWeek Day 4; Caressing and massaging serpent fags....fatally

Folks who have lived more than us and have thus experienced more of life have more fun escapades to narrate than many the smart phone trolling lads of our generation.They also have much advice and life lessons to spruce our usually shallow knowledge on survival and existence in this universe known to always be brewing treachery. We get to tap their wisdom from what they've lived through and passed on to us.One of the earliest proverbs I learnt as a child (for my grandfather liked to say it every now and then) was the Luganda "Enyanja etta agyimanyidde" which, translated loosely to mean "The lake kills he that is accustomed to it" that is, it's fishermen who drown most...an ironic scenario by all means or at least am certain irony is what the person who coined it intended to achieve. The elders have persistently told of people who have met their ends (usually brutal gruesome ends) at the hands of things they were accustomed to and individuals that have seemed way too friendly. I live by the notion that if it sounds too good to be true, then it most probably is.
I know myself to be a person who is not easily moved or atleast who rarely expresses this emotion when eventually moved(touched). This is a fruit of a chauvinistic notion seed) my old man imparted onto me as a young child that people take advantage of you when they know how you feel. However there's a story I read as a young boy in primary school and it broke my heart.The heart break though sunk most of my most treasured lessons to date.It told of a little boy who had found a cobra stuck in a trap in their garden.Desperate cobra had cried out to young innocent boy and begged him to save him.The boy had retorted in the negative, adding that he knows cobras are deadly....and the enemies(at least according to Grandma Eve and her spouse Grandpa Adam).The cobra had eventually convinced him and touched because he was such a noble kind soul,he helped the poor snake. For three days he took it out to the sun and picked it in the evening.They had become buddies. Having each other seemed to be the most important thing in the world to them. Flashforward to the twist in this sad tale,on the evening of the third day,the snake bit him.And yes. ..he died.Moral of the story.... Sometimes keeping away and keeping your guard is the way to go...or rather to keep alive.Boy was gullible and naive and it was this which had him killed,not the snake necessarily.Humanity, like the boy's initial common sense tells us what's good and safe for us and what's not.However what's there to save us from those that seem safe, harmless and good.Who saves us from ourselves?
My earliest memory in relation to this issue was my friend and playmate Andrew who was tragically killed when a ram he was tethering on his father's orders rammed into the little boy's head killing him instantly.I do not think I could ever forget the sight.We were chased away but I could not fail to see the expression my friend's father was depicting in his sad teary eyes.It was that if betrayal.Same with us,we had played with this very ram countless times.We had sat on it and tried to ride it like the horses we had seen on TV but now it had killed one of us.A part of me wondered what it felt like to pay for a mistake with your life when you are unawares of the proceedings. As people suggested to hit the ram's head with a hammer or an axe,Andrew's father kept saying ,"I don't want to see its blood".Andrew's shirt was tied a tree and the ram kept hitting it hard until it died.Years later Andrew's mother was struck to death by lightening as she collected water for domestic use during the rain.
Or Asiimwe,the cousin of mine, a good swimmer drowned in a brick pond and spent most of my times and be spent most of his free time training the younger boys how to swim.The image of his mother traversing the pond,her breasts and calling to him to come out and feed is still edged on my brain.This is the current political condition in this country.


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