The Ballot Burnt Me Alive: Chronicles of a Political Phoenix Who Didn’t Rise

 

An Exclusive Interview Between Hon. Nathan Kizito and Dr. Miriam Kabonero

Written, Witnessed, and Word-Smithed by Isaac Christopher Lubogo

 

 

⚠️ DISCLAIMER – MADNESS MEETS GENIUS

 

> What you’re about to read sits on a tightrope strung between tragedy and theatre, madness and brilliance. It is political catharsis soaked in whisky, betrayal, philosopher quotes, and sarcasm that could slap a bishop.

 

 

 

This isn’t a script—it’s the autopsy of ambition. The death is fresh. The wounds unbandaged. No PR. No spin. Just a man who danced on political fire with borrowed shoes—and now his feet are stories.

 

Don’t just read this—bleed with it, laugh with it, scream into a pillow with it.

 

 

 

Scene:

A therapy room masquerading as a courtroom. Hon. Nathan Kizito walks in wearing a suit that still smells like his last campaign rally. Eyes swollen. Ego dismembered. Behind him trails a folder titled: “Promises I Made to People Who Voted Someone Else.”

 

Dr. Miriam Kabonero sits across him with a steaming cup of tea, pen poised like a priest ready to record confessions of the politically crucified.

 

 

Dr. Miriam:

Nathan… talk to me. What’s the temperature in your soul?

 

Nathan (laughs nervously):

Boiling. I just discovered that democracy is a beautifully packaged form of organized heartbreak. They said the people choose, but apparently the people sold my destiny for a sachet of waragi and a vuvuzela.

 

Dr. Miriam:

What went wrong?

 

Nathan (sarcastic):

Well, for starters—I read too much Marcus Aurelius and too little Machiavelli. I believed that integrity wins votes.

Clearly, Uganda disagreed.

 

Dr. Miriam (noting):

Idealism. Fatal dosage. Continue.

 

 

Nathan (sits up, voice rising):

I had a plan! I quoted Desmond Tutu in village rallies! I told them: “If you’re neutral in situations of injustice, you’ve chosen the side of the oppressor.”

Guess what they did?

They said, “Well then… we choose the oppressor who brings matooke and school fees.”

One elder even whispered to me, “Your English is too clean. We don’t trust clean people.”

 

 

Dr. Miriam (laughs deeply):

Let’s talk about your advisors.

 

Nathan (face twists):

Ah. My Greek chorus of doom. One told me not to bribe anyone—“They’ll vote from the heart,” he said.

Another told me to kneel in church for seven straight Sundays—“It’ll make you look God-fearing.”

Someone even said I should wear gomesi on Women’s Day—“It’ll show you’re feminist.”

I ended up looking like a confused cultural exhibit at the Uganda Museum.

 

 

Dr. Miriam (scribbles “Victim of Philosophical Overdose”):

So… what did you learn?

 

Nathan (dramatically):

That Plato doesn’t win polling stations.

Moses didn’t have to win votes to part the sea.

And voters don’t care if you can quote Frantz Fanon—they care if you can build a borehole.

One man even asked me, “Can Socrates buy my daughter Always pads?”

 

 

Dr. Miriam (smiling):

Did you ever think of defecting?

 

Nathan (leans in):

Yes. I considered joining Them—the winning party.

But then I remembered: “He who sups with the devil must use a long spoon.”

And me? I only had a plastic fork from Café Javas.

 

 

Dr. Miriam (quietly):

So why are you really here?

 

Nathan (broken):

Because I miss hearing my name on radio. I miss the fake smiles. I miss being relevant.

But most of all—I miss being lied to.

 

Dr. Miriam:

That’s honest.

 

Nathan (smirks):

Well, now I know that the only honest part of politics is the disappointment.

 

 

💥 POST-SESSION REFLECTION – “DIAGNOSIS: IDEALISM WITHDRAWAL SYNDROME”

 

> “Here lies a man who tried to be clean in a muddy river.

He quoted Mandela to people who preferred money.

He danced to no drum and expected the parade to follow.

But he is not a fool—he is a warning.”

 

 

And when I, Isaac Christopher Lubogo, finally asked him what his biggest regret was, he paused, stared into the abyss, and said:

 

> “Next time… I’ll quote Bobi Wine, not Bonhoeffer.”

 

 

Signed—Still Roasting in Political Fire,

Isaac Christopher Lubogo

“Because sometimes, the vote is not the victory. Survival is.”