So many children of the rich, and the great, who died years ago are today in the streets begging and sleeping like rats, near dust bins in the ghettos allover the country. Children of former ministers who served in previous governments are scattered across the country and, I can tell you, majority of them are suffering.
A time comes and things change. The worst happens and the rich become poor. No matter how much your late father or mother worked, you cannot claim that you were born and put in the world to enjoy the entire fruits of their efforts.
A bank loans you money smiling and showing you all the benefits of bigger loans. A time comes and the same bank takes from you what you once owned. A time comes and a child is orphaned and his own relatives choose to grab what the child would have owned to soften life.
A time comes and you go back to a part of a country where electricity is still a dream. A time comes when a former powerful man goes back to the village to dig so that he can get what to eat.
A person who knows my family very well laughs and scoffs at those who listen to me when I say that I grew up poverty and that the primary school I went to, in Kampala, was mud and wattle and was only capable of producing failures.
My father was successful, this cannot be denied, but look, he died when I was still very young. At less than ten years, I just found my self into a life of sorrow, misery plus poverty.
My friends crucify me because they know that my father was among the top men in this country during his years. This practically qualifies me to be the right person to tell the story misery in this world and that after honey one can eat dust and accompany it with dirty water, admixed with invisible maggots.
He who ate porridge with milk in the night can wake up walking into the other world where the majority eat bread crumbs and abandoned.
Like a baby who is born motionless but develops energy and intelligence to walk, a person can transform his or her life. Refuse to doubt because, also, around you, from your place of work to the village where you grew up or stay, are examples of people who made it from scratch.
A time comes when the one who was undermined for years becomes a leader of men. A time comes when a child who was unable to crawl stand up to thunderous applause.
A baby eventually talks! A time comes when a chick becomes a hen. A chick, without acknowledging some of the changes that happen, eventually becomes a cock.
After losing so much hope and his friends abandoning him, God eventually answers the prayers and a man who went to the bush to fight for the poor finally wins.
A time comes when the weak become strong and shake the foundations of this well designed earth. At time comes, my friend, when the lines that were formerly read by its composer only go out there to be read, and to be followed, by the most intelligent people around. A time comes, when a former street boy wins himself a BET award.
A time comes and all people get up to give a standing ovation to a person, like me, after presenting wisdom to them. A time comes when all people come out to dig bigger paths for you to let you pass.
A time comes and the world gives you room, to let you go further into the fertile fields that were promised to you.
There comes a time when fame and the other riches of life come seeking the one who looked for them without finding them for years. A time comes and all the enemies that confronted you almost fearlessly, and every day, come out to confess and to tell that some one misled them into making your life difficult.
A time comes! A time comes when a man who thought he was an island gets competitors who become determined and ready to provide the cheapest yet necessary product. A time comes and poverty accepts defeat and it goes away from a man or women or a group of children it has tortured for decades.
A time comes and a white man becomes a brother to the black skinned man. And the children from all continents sit together, to think the same thoughts and to share ideas and suggestions and to act together.
Time came and the U.S.A elected a man whose race was kept behind the curtains for centuries. Time comes and miracles begin to happen. Time comes, my friend, and tears turn into joy. Time comes, and the crippled walk, after 38 years of sitting in one place.
Time comes and the right tools are discovered! Time will come and my country, my country, a country that brought me up, will become a Singapore! A time will come.
Sekka Bagenda is a writer.
An inspirational public speaker and a Sports Scientist.
Have your say via: 0756717967 or email: firstname.lastname@example.org