Moses Serugo
26 November 2007
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Changing colour hues were just about the only aesthetic thing at Friday's 30-minute presentation titled Uganda's Journey to Self Realisation. Not that we expected renowned playwright Alex Mukulu to recreate rain and Hellenic dancers like the ones at the Malta Chogm in 2005.
The famed theatre guru steered clear of jaw-dropping opening ceremony clichés and brought to the eminent visitors and a continental television audience a taste of his enduring theatrical craft that fused traditional and foreign music and dance.
The stage looked a bit cluttered, with far too many dancers than was required. But it was the story told in operatic form that left a lasting impression enough to get the queen to clap for the retreating dancers.
The piece started off with the performers making a noisy entrance, ululations and all to live acoustic guitar music. The jovial mood represented the tranquil aura in most African settlements long before the colonialists arrived to disrupt the status quo. Their crude methods of partition represented by a ripping sound and flag hoisting. It is equally interesting that Indian coolies are in tow.
The bit where natives have to learn the new languages of the invaders was clever. The natives show their meekness by reciting counting numerals in English, French, and German. This is followed by parodying of nursery rhymes to show the three Rs (read, write and arithmetic), the teaching methodology that came with the colonisers.
"The paint is black, the chalk is white," the chorus sings after which they break into alien songs like London bridge is falling down, probably Mukulu's way of showing folk songs have been abandoned for these silly alien chants. The natives also have to contend with cultural shocks like kissing and golf.
The Swahili mutterings that follow must have been lost on many with the story fast-forwarding into video clips of independence crusaders like Kwame Nkrumah. Everyone remembers the short-lived euphoria that came with Obote receiving the instruments of power on October 9, 1962 and the subsequent soundtrack of recurrent gunshots represents the turbulent '70s and early '80s.
The "memories to teach me to see the beauty of the world" verse sort of represents the recourse to God many sought during those times. The scene where a President that has sworn himself to the oath of playing the role of head of state to the hilt leaves students of Ugandan history asking which part of our heritage represents that bit.
The next scene shows a man with hat being hoisted shoulder high and no prizes for guessing which Ugandan personality trademarked the safari hat as the face of his electioneering posters. The colour hue changes to yellow as Oh-moto-mewaka, one of the songs the 1986 liberators do not sing anymore is sung. Is this Mukulu pandering to the establishment here or him being sarcastic that the liberation songs are not sung anymore?
Uganda's Somalia mission is lauded in video footage showing our troops being handed a flag and boarding a plane. Milestones like the Ugandan constitution shown as a book draped in a flag are also highlighted. The huge bubble-like prop at the end was visibly lost on me. Or maybe we should not burst the Museveni bubble just as yet.
There is reason to be optimistic about the future in the chant that urges everyone to light a candle while a montage of the national flags of Commonwealth countries fly past.
The Pentecostal song, "This is the day that the Lord has made. We will rejoice and be glad in it" at the end could be a warning about the Pentecostal wave that is sweeping across our land.
That notwithstanding, there was no missing that the half-hour showcase (said to have cost over a billion shillings to put together) left the distinguished guests with a lingering taste of contemporary Ugandan music where traditional Kiganda rhythms weave seamlessly into acoustic guitar sounds to create a delightful sound. That made up for the bits where the story about our self-realisation may not have been very comprehensible. But then again, it is no easy feat cramming years of history into only 30-minutes.
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