Select Page


By Stella Nyanzi

In the final analysis, I am self-reliant. I abundantly feed, shelter, clothe, transport and defend myself and a legion of my dependants. I don’t need any stranger’s oscillating approval, swaying praise, or vain cheering to thrive.

Your wagging tongues nyonyonyoing heavy with criticism about me do nothing to me. Keep them to yourselves and your petty groups of foul-mouthed gossips. Keep your gutter-like opinions about me in the sewers of your minds that emit them. I am neither your mother nor your daughter to patronise and threaten.

So what if I called Museveni amatako? So what? The man is busy shitting all over Uganda and you want me to tenderly kiss the buttocks that he has proved himself to be! Dimwits! He shits in our democratic elections. He shits in our governance. He shits in our judiciary. He shits in our economy. He shits in our cultural values. He shits and farts all over our military. He shits in our foreign relations. He is now even publicly shitting in the meaning of the position, roles, duties and posture of the presidency.

If you want to praise Museveni for shitting all over Uganda, go ahead! I will not stop you. If you prefer to tell Museveni that whenever he gases into Uganda’s affairs, you enjoy his fart as one enjoys perfume, go ahead! If you want to look on in silence whenever the buttocks publicly excrete on Ugandans, go ahead! It is your prerogative.

For me, I refuse to cuddle this venomous snake that killed my father and then killed my mother. I refuse to praise this rapist of our dear Constitution and desecrater of our Ugandan flag. I refuse to be silent. Instead, I fire the bullets of my colourful pen at his misrule. Indeed, Museveni matako nyo! Now what?