Not so long ago, we had another wedding in the family; this time somewhere in Kiruhuura, western Uganda. My aunties Agatha and Juliet, my dad, some cousins like Abel Mwine and myself, packed and headed west for Lt. Asiimwe Nathan Ruzaza's wedding. Asiimwe is my aunt Vangirini Mukarubani's son, with her husband Ruzaaza.
It’s a long story so I’ll jump to the action. I was in the entourage that went to pick the bride at her home the next evening. It was not very far from the groom’s home -about 45 minutes’ drive in the bushes.
I should mention here that, in the scramble for space in the limited cars, my groom cousin shoved me in one of the so packed Toyotas. I was flung among babes in a very packed Rav4 – babes in the most body hugging dresses I ever sat between. This was supposed to be a good thing -only I didn’t know a single one of their names, and we were so squeezed that to attempt turning your head even slightly 2 degrees you’d be meeting some one’s boobies! This was not someth I was prepared to do, so this become the 40 motionless minutes of my journey. When I later told some friends about my misadventure, they said I should have turned freely on both sides and dropped a few compliments..... Never mind those perverts.
So we reached. Long story short, after the speeches and all, the next activity was the Ankore norm of setting in opposition, two skilled people against each other at Okwevuga. Both sides had prepared some one to pit against the other side. The contest begun in earnest; the man from the bride’s side started off -drooping fast paced lyrics, motioning arms to this effect, saying things you’ve never heard and things you’d never remember.
Then our man took his turn, did stunts with a familiar language, stressed points with his Nkoni, and many other effects. This went on for about an hour.
I didn’t know who won, because I dint know the scoring criteria. But the man from the bride’s side had the most applauded turns. Guests enjoyed this very much. I enjoyed it too, thought I dint understand a word those men said.
The bride’s people had arranged an amazing buffet for us, and refreshments – which was where we headed afterwards. I filled my plate and joined my dad at a table somewhere. Then he gave me some startling the news;
Did you see the Mwevugi from the bride’s side? He asked. I said “yes, and I guess he kicked the ass of our guy”. Then he told me, “Ogwo niwe Shwento owohurira”. “Am sorry, what…? how….when….”
“That is Rutabyama, your mom’s brother”
I had heard that my mom has a brother called Rutabyama in stories. I had also heard from Kaaka that my mother comes from a clan called “Bene Ishe Murari”, which apparently was a furious clan at Kweshongora, Okwevuga, Okugamba n’Okukubya ente during the finer days of the Ankore kingdom. So it downed on me that this could be true, and that this could be how am meeting my uncle.
Finally, after going thru some confusing sensations, I went over to where he was standing with some people, letting them finish with their conversation. When he was alone, I came up to him and stared in his face for a full moment…looking for any trace of resemblance. I bet he thought this was some zealot stalker who was over-impressed with his Kwevuga.
The resemblance wasn’t there -until he opened his mouth to speak. I saw the unmistakable formula; a white array with no single fault, in a very black gum.
Our first ever conversation went something like;
Me: N’omanya omuntu wubarikweeta Maaga? (my mom’ other name is Margaret)
Him: Maaga oha, Nyakato?
Me: Eeeee, Nyakato.
Him: Nimumpurize, ogwo ka’aba munyanyazi!
Me: Munyanyako ogwo reero nanye ni maawe!
Him: [raising eyebrows], ori mutabani wa Mugyenyi shi? Niiwe Franka shi?
I was like yeah, nice to meet you too!
After going thru some confusing sensations, he asked how I recognized him since we’d never met. I told him that some one had shown him to me, not mentioning who. We later exchanged numbers and promised to continue to talk, said goodbyes and I left when our entourage was preparing to leave. We have since talked a couple of times.
Am trying to unravel and document some great stories for a book project for my grand kids' happy reading when I am over 100 years. Promise to live that long…
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