The Primaries Of Blood: Ugandans Who Died Politically Before They Lost

 

By Isaac Christopher Lubogo

“Live from the edge of madness, where ambition devours men and tomorrow eats the dreams of tonight.”

 

🎧 [Opening Audio: Distant drums. Thunder. A goat bleats. A voice whispers “Obululu…” then fades into radio static.]

 

🎤 LUBOGO (narrating like a prophet):

Tonight, Uganda does not snore.

She trembles.

 

Tomorrow is not just polling day.

It is Judgment Day… wearing yellow.

 

Some will die at the altar of betrayal.

Others will hang themselves on the rope of borrowed money.

But all—ALL—will learn that politics in Uganda is not a career. It is a spiritual war with no ceasefire clause.

 

Welcome to the last supper of hope.

 

 

👨🏾‍💼 CANDIDATE A (sobbing, shirt unbuttoned, tie used as a handkerchief):

I gave my blood to this campaign.

Printed T-shirts with money meant for my daughter’s heart surgery.

Last night, my brother—my blood brother—used my voter list to mobilize for my rival.

He said, “Bro, it’s just politics.”

But this isn’t politics.

It’s ritual warfare disguised as democracy.

 

 

🧔🏾 CANDIDATE B (sweating despite the AC, voice trembling):

I visited the witchdoctor in Iganga.

He gave me oil from a snake’s gall bladder. Told me to anoint my shoes.

Now…

My left leg dances alone.

My voters vanish at polling stations like ghosts in moonlight.

I’m now convinced—God has logged out.

 

 

👨🏽‍💼 CANDIDATE C (eyes glazed, speaking like a man possessed):

Three pastors.

Twelve prophets.

One imām.

All prayed. All prophesied.

Yet today, I saw them on TV laying hands on the opposition.

 

One of them told me, “God changed His mind.”

If even heaven is undecided, then perhaps hell is more reliable.

 

 

👩🏾 CANDIDATE D (with a baby on her back, eyes full of fire):

They touched my breasts to prove I’m a mother.

They asked who my husband was to see if I qualify.

I’m not a candidate—I’m a walking scandal because I dared to lead.

And now the same women I gave pads and porridge to… they voted for the man who gave them beer.

My breasts fed the campaign. His bottles bought it.

 

 

🎤 LUBOGO (stepping forward like a thunderclap):

And what of the money?

 

 

🧔🏾 CANDIDATE B:

My boda-boda was bought on loan.

Tomorrow, if I lose, I’ll use it to escape to Kenya.

Or be buried under it.

 

 

🎧 [Cue eerie music. A voice recites Proverbs 22:7: “The borrower is servant to the lender.” Echoes.]

 

 

🎤 LUBOGO (lowering his tone):

What about… suicide?

The forbidden word.

The truth Uganda whispers but never prints.

 

 

👨🏽‍💼 CANDIDATE A (silence… then whispers):

The noose is already in my drawer.

Not for death.

Just to feel something tighter than the pressure in my chest.

They don’t know… that behind every candidate’s smile is a graveyard of dignity.

 

 

🎤 LUBOGO:

Enter now: the VOTER.

Not a man. Not a woman. Just… the unpredictable god of the ballot.

 

 

🧔🏾‍🧢 VOTER (deep Lusoga accent, seated under a mango tree):

Banange, I took 10K from one, a T-shirt from another, and a mattress from the third.

Tomorrow, I’ll vote the one who gives me soap.

You see… democracy smells better when you bathe.

 

 

🎤 LUBOGO (smirking, flames in his tone):

And what of the security agencies?

 

 

👩🏾 CANDIDATE D:

They called me for “a friendly chat.”

I left with a swollen face and no phone.

Apparently, “mobilizing too well” is now a national threat.

 

 

🎤 LUBOGO (stepping into a final crescendo):

So tomorrow… as the yellow ballots fall like leaves of prophecy, remember this:

 

> Some will win and disappear.

Some will lose and resurrect years later.

But most… will be buried alive in WhatsApp gossip and LC1 whispers.

 

 

 

Uganda, before you vote—

Ask your soul one last question:

 

> Is this your calling… or your coffin?

 

 

 

🎧 [Final Audio: The sound of a pencil ticking a ballot. A heartbeat. Then silence.]

 

 

🪶 SIGNED:

Isaac Christopher Lubogo

Poet of Power. Chronicler of the Undying. Voice of the Truth Uganda Tries to Forget.

 

 

Say the word. The fire is only beginning. 🔥