Odoch Pido
A paper by Odoch Pido and Donna Pido
Of the Technical University of Kenya, Nairobi
[email protected] and [email protected]
April 2019, Makerere Institute of Social Research,
Makerere University, Kampala Uganda
Abstract
In ‘Song of Lawino,’ Okot embodied the beleaguered Acholi culture in the person of Lawino, the narrator and a cast-off ‘traditional’ wife. She represented ideals in Acholi life, which her Western school-educated husband, Ochol, kept assaulting in favor of European colonialism-assisted change. Ochol used Tina, his ‘Westernized’ mistress to torment Lawino with her ability to resist change. A reader sympathizes with Lawino and takes her as a symbol of African culture under threat but nonetheless dignified in its resistance to upheaval from all sides. Over many years, Lawino’s plight has been shared by hundreds of thousands of East African women; so it is a situation of fast, uncontrollable change that is very familiar to a great many people. There is a parallel in Boris Pasternak’s novel “Dr. Zhivago’ in which the two main female characters represent the old Russia and the new Soviet Union. There is also a parallel between Lawino and Scarlet O’Hara, the main character in Margaret Mitchell’s “Gone with the Wind”. Like Lawino, Scarlet did all that her culture expected of her but uncontrollable forces removed everything and changed her.
After Lawino was published, more than half a century of complex fast and slow change, Acholi musician Opira Morise Kato sang a song that Scandal Studio posted on You Tube in January 2014. Why the song was posted on You Tube is not yet clear but we think doing so serves posterity as well as popular enjoyment and reflection on everyday life. The song is entitled “MinOluuku”, a short form of Mother of Oluuku. In contrast to Song of Lawino, the song on Min Oluuku is about a role reversal in which a wife deserts her ‘traditional’ Acholi husband for a military man and town life. The husband’s lament is very similar to that of Lawino in its utter dismay and heartbreaking sorrow; the song’s literal and metaphorical contents provide fodder for analysis and discussion in this paper.
This paper is about the multifaceted interaction of aesthetic systems, embedded in social and economic change, with all their internal and external influences over the years between ‘Song of Lawino’ and ‘Song on MinOluuku.’ The authors’ analysis poses several questions of similarity and difference in the dynamic period between Okot’s writing and the present. It links Lawino and Opira, Ochol and MinOluuku with human universals and the fall back on culture and change to explain what we humans do anyway.
Key phrases: aesthetic systems, social-cultural change, indigenous knowledge, cash economy, Okot p’Bitek.
A brief military background to the song, MinOluuku
In this paper we elucidate on interactions of aesthetic systems, especially the things Acholi wives do to husbands whose feet are stuck in traditional customs. The paper draws from the song Opira composed and performed to appease his troubled literal or imaginary heart. His heart needed soothing because his wife left him for a man in military uniform, a metaphor for Western civilization, urban-style life and “stress-free living”. In 2014 Aalten of Scandal Studio recorded and posted the song on YouTube, perhaps for sharing, public consumption and diverse use. Odoch downloaded the song from YouTube; we studied it in details, analyzed and presented it in this 2019 Okot p’Bitek symposium scheduled at Makerere Institute of Social Research. He chose the song because it strikes a note similar to that in Song of Lawino though the authors and periods are different; there is Opira Kato instead of Okot p’Bitek and 2014 instead of the 1960s. Besides, the characters are different; there is Oluuku and his mother instead of Lawino, Ocol and Clementine. Finally it is the song of a male instead a female and Kitgum instead of the Gulu area of Acholiland. The song represents but one of the dramatic changes in gender relations among the Acholi.
Through his Song of Lawino, Okot spoke on interactions between Acholi and European aesthetics. It is not yet clear why Okot aimed at European thoughts and practices. But anybody who tasted Colonial Uganda will remember that European colonialism was oppressive ka kwoto pe (without a farting chance, meaning mercilessly). Forceful social and cultural transformation were among the outcomes of colonialism. The conduct of Clementine and Ocol, characters in Song of Lawino, suggests that colonialism had transformed Acholis into Afro-Europeans and citizens of the world. Though scholars hold different views on colonialism, it is generally accepted that those who received the instruments of Uganda Independence from the British did little to entrench Acholi in preference to British systems of thought and practice. For purposes of this paper we take the cash economy as an example of the colonial, if not global, systems that greatly influenced Acholi thoughts and behaviors.
The hut-tax was probably the most prominent way in which Colonial Britain forced Acholis into the cash economy. Any male from the age of twenty years paid tax by law; failure to do so was punishable by throwing one in jail or luroni (hard labor in hot sun and without pay). Men could not use chickens, goats or sheep to pay hut-tax; payment had to be made in cash and to earn a cent was no easy matter. In order to avoid jail or hard labor, young men sought wage-earning employments in the military as King’s African Riffle (KEYA as modified by the Acholis). Through their stories of adventure and apparent monetary wealth, World War I and II returnees created great desire for employment in the military. Too bin (come ye death) is an expression that may be used as evidence of desire to serve in the military at all cost including death; the expression is how Acholi used to refer military boots used during World War II.
By the time of Independence in 1962, the military was the profession of choice, especially for males who failed to make sense of school education and the tribal corridors of work in Government offices. It was in the Uganda Army schools that a few Acholi children gained formal education, entered upper echelons of politics and participated in the national economy and development. The military helped determine local fashion; cwara mara (Acholi for my husband loves me) was the name a ladies’ fashion common early in the 1960s. To be fashionable at that time required a lady to marry a soldier because women said it made them feel truly loved. Idi Amin’s ascent to power in 1971 slowed appetite to serve in the military because Amin saw Acholi as the only threat to his rule and killed many Acholi servicemen.
The appetite towards service in the military was awakened during the so-called liberation of Uganda in 1979; the liberation was designed to remove Amin from office. Uganda National Liberation Army (UNLA) was popular with villagers because it symbolized liberation from Amin’s oppressive regime. In some cases UNLA was mistaken for a revenge-instrument, avenging the killings that were carried-out by Amin’s operatives, the State Research Bureau. In some quarters UNLA was greatly appreciated and rewarded in wives as well as other currencies. Wives of the soldiers used to say kadi igoya ki del keya, pe aparo (though you whip with a military belt, I don’t care). The expression is a testimony of women’s resolve to be wives of soldiers at any cost including wife beating. The resolve is mind-boggling considering that the military has, over the years, ‘killed’ many Acholis. Acholis, in general, and women in particular, continue to admire the military; the admiration may explain why MinOluuku left her husband for a soldier and helped generate the song we discuss here.
We present the song in Acholi and English. The analysis of MinOluuku, the song by Opira, helps illustrate how Acholis have been struggling to cope with Western-style development in Uganda. A section of Okot’s numerous works also concern how contemporary development has been undermining traditional systems of thoughts and practice. Okot was university-educated, which is why he was able to write and communicate his message all over the world and did so at a time when print dominated mass communication. Knowledge contained in Acholi songs is limited to a few scholars who speak Acholi language and access YouTube. Perhaps this paper will help draw attention to the large volume of indigenous knowledge available in songs and YouTube yet many scholars tend to insist on print.
Analysis and discussion of the song
Verse one of the song
| An ikare moo ma okato angec Aaa odiko con acito ipoto ka pur Abedo ki tam ni min latin obe lubu kora Kit ma nino jwii wapuru wan kwede kwica An ikare ma aoo ipoto kwica An atongo katala aryo Maromo kom wan ki madam Madam see madam sela An amako pur ipoto kwica at |
One time in the past I got up early went to the field to cultivate I expected my wife to follow me Since we have done together and alwaysWhen I got to the field I cutout two parcels Enough for us, madam and me Madam see, madam sela I set out digging single-mindedly |
In the first line of the verse Opira begins his song in ways that are similar to ways people begin stories. Why not since the song is indeed a story of MinOluuku who left her husband for another man? Why does it matter when a wife leaves her husband? It matters for it is viewed as the ruining of a solemn promise; in general Acholis keep agreements and promises. To become a wife or husband is often taken for a promise to remain and do as married as married people do. Society thinks it is evil to abandon a wife or husband; doing so is pe kit pa dano (Acholi for is not human). Acholis and other Nilotic-speakers view marriage as permanent; no legal, physical or emotional separation can end a marriage. The perception of marriage may explain why a woman is known as the wife of the first husband instead any second or third husbands. It is also why the first husband is obliged to bury his wife even when she may have been living with another man in another place for many years at the time of death.
Lines two to nine of verse one describe a typical husband-wife cultivation routine in preparing land for planting crops. The next logical step, a design concept, is the most potent explanation of the routine. Thus males are expendable because they do not bear children; consequently, exposing them to danger, harm or even death does not matter too much. This is why husbands go to work early in the morning when dangerous spirits and animals roam the land. It is believed that men are stronger than women; it is logical they begin work before and work for longer hours. Meanwhile continued survival of the community largely depends on females, especially their reproductive health and ability to take care of children. Some people explain the routine on the traditional male-female division of labor and other social concepts that deserve another piece.
Cultivation entails using hand-hoes to dig up grass and weeds to prepare the soil for planting crops. In this wet season routine, a husband goes to the field and begins work ahead of his wife who remains behind to prepare brunch. After the food is ready, she first feeds her children, takes a portion to the field and joins her husband between nine and nine-thirty am. At around ten or so in the morning she serves her husband food in the shade of a tree and in fresh air. In addition serves drinking water and at times arege kato (half-liter bottle of Acholi gin distilled from sorghum or maize beer); men working is adjacent fields are often invited to the brunch. On reaching the field Opira embarked on work and concentrated on the task single-mindedly. In the characteristic style, he cuts out keyu (small parcels), one for himself and the other for his wife.
Verse two of the song
| Ma oo sawa adek cito ii angwen Ayilo wiya malo Anogno ni min latin Ni pud peke idog poto An Olwoch Abedo ki tam madit tutwal Awaci ngo matin ogengo MinOluuku mebino ipoto inino matin Ka kumeno ayela dong peke An koni ka adok gang Koni aniang lok kikunu Ikare ma dong anongo olo tye Acako wot me dong gang |
At nine going on to ten o’clock I raised my head and looked up I discovered that the mother of my child Had not arrived in the field I Olwoch Had many big questions lodged in my I asked, what thing toady stopped MamaOluuku to come to work this day That be it, there is no bother anymore When I return home I shall know what there is At the time when fatigue was setting in I started heading home |
Verse two describes MinOluuku’s failure to do as her husband expects according to custom. c Between nine and ten in the morning is when women join their husbands, to bring food and to help clear fields for planting crops, symbol of pit (Acholi for upbringing). Literal translations of pit include to plant as in planting a mango tree, to feed someone who is unable to eat by himself and to provide food for people to eat. From the beginning of the twenty-first century pit became a symbol of good living, eating to enjoy instead of warding-off hunger. The rich-man’s expression pit komi (Acholi for feed your body) that is common among urban Acholis helps show that pit became one of the idioms expressing the high life. In the context of this song pit entails use of materials things (food, clothing, and housing) and non-material things (education, love, religion) to bring-up children to live as adults.
It is at around ten in the morning when men get hungry because they have expended much energy and expect food to come at that time, for them to refuel. Where a man does not expect his wife to join him at work, this is the time he stops work and returns home. In the case of Opira, however, he expected his wife, MinOluuku, to show up. She did not and that sent him thinking hard. He wondered what was happening and imagined something was wrong. He continued for a while, stopped work and left for home hoping to find something as wrong as she was taken very ill. Obviously Opira abandoned work partly because it was time and he did not want to continue work without a partner; his act raises curiosity on the Acholi sense of time and partnership.
In chapter seven of Song of Lawino, Okot spoke on the mechanical time of the clock, which divides the unit-day into precisely twenty four hours of day and night. Here Okot essentially compares and contrasts the Acholi sense of time with time according to the clock or Western perception of time. It seems Okot was amazed by the pointlessness of splitting the minute into seconds since there can be no meaningful work a human being in one second; he was also puzzled by our Acholi attempts at behaving according to seconds of the machine, which is the clock. It seems Okot is of the opinion that natural forces as the sun, moon, rain should dictate time. He also seemed to think that human needs as hunger, exhaustion and love should dictate the schedule of activities. In Acholi culture there is time for work, rest, eating and dates; in these cases human needs determine schedules of activities. Meanwhile the sun and moon determine rainy and dry seasons; cultivation and planting crops take place in the rainy season while hunting and gathering often occur during the dry season. Young boys take livestock to graze after ten in the morning since doing so is a way of avoiding poisonous lizards that livestock eat together with grass when they graze earlier than ten o’clock. The lizards sit on blades of grass and bask up to around nine in the morning. In this climatic region 10 am is too hot for the lizards to bask; they go elsewhere and leave the animals to graze safely.
Of course, today’s school educated and urban Acholis largely behave according to time of the clock because doing so ensures survival in so-called modern economy. Besides, keeping time is seen as being up-to-date with cultural times because people get angry at failure to keep appointed time. An appointment for a job interview must be kept if one is to entertain hopes of landing the job. They say that lateness shows disrespect for the person with whom the appointment is made. From my own recollection, behavior according to the clock or European sense of time came with canning and humiliation. Caning was biologically painful because it inflicted pains in our buttocks; it was it was embarrassing, especially if it took place before potential boyfriends or girlfriends. School tests took place without regarding a pupil’s speed of comprehension and without respecting the pupil’s preferred answers to questions. In short the concept of time was imposed on us from the beginning of school education; it is not surprising that we, Okot p’Bitek and other people did not like it.
One may one wonder why Opira referred to himself as Olwoch, a name that is not reflected in the title of the You Tube song. Acholis name newborns three or four days after birth; three or four days when the newborn is male or female, respectively. Parents, relatives or friends may give the newborn their favorite names but only one may stick; but those names that do not stick remain hidden in the background. A name thus hidden occasionally surfaces especially when one gets emotional about things and uses it to pronounce self. Nicknaming may also explain why Opira referred to himself as Olwoch; this is true when Olwoch is a part of his nickname. Acholi youths give themselves names that they use alongside names they receive at birth; I think Olwoch is an alternate and unofficial name for Opira.
The above five paragraphs attempted to shine some lights on Acholi alternate name and sense of time, one based on reasons instead of machine. Besides, attempts were made to explain aesthetic displeasure with machine time, one that is dictated by the clock. Let us now turn to Acholi sense of partnership since doing so may help explain why Opira stopped work and went home. In this song we are looking at a partnership of two, a husband-wife partnership to live a life of work and pleasure. Acholis find it beautiful when a husband and wife work together; they say such a scene suggests true love in the family. In other words MinOluuku’s failure to show up at the field, to work side by side with her husband, frustrated the expected enjoyment of beauty and meaning in life. It seems Opira was somewhat naïve for he did not know MinOluuku meant more than not turning-up to work; she was abandoning her husband’s company and denying him the stimulus to work.
Verse three of the song
| Ki gum marac ikare ma acok ki gang Anongo latin ma kilwongo ni Oluuku ni Ka onyede ki wang gang Tye ka koko ma konye pee An apenyo latin ni Oluuku pingo itye ka koko kit man Latin kong oling manok iwang cawa mo Ka owaci ekok Pien mama ne pe gang |
Unfortunately as I got close to home I found Oluuku Oluuku Pitifully standing in the eye of the home Deep into crying, too much I asked my child that Oluuku why are you into crying this bad My child took a little breath Then said he is crying Because his mother is not at home |
In summary verse three describes what Opira found when he arrived home; he found his son crying tears because his mother had left him. Why did Oluuku profusely cry when his mother left? I don’t know about other children but an Acholi child cries whenever his mother leaves home because her departure threatens to disrupt lines of dependence and company. Though it is generally known why children cry Opira went on to ask why he was crying; of course Oluuku was afraid his mother’s departure meant loss of food, emotional gratification, security and assurance of life ahead. If Opira found his son crying in the arms of his mother, he would have asked his wife what was the matter wrong with his son. In this scenario Opira would have suspected that his son was sick or hungry.
Before leaving analysis and discussion of this verse, we need to view wanggang (Acholi for eye of home) for the expression raises question on meanings. Literally speaking an object as home cannot possess eyes; only people, animals and insects have eyes. So, the expression ‘eye’ of home is as metaphorical as the biblical ‘eye’ of the needle; it refers to a point at which one gains entry into the home as the eye of the needle refers to the section of the needle through which thread passes. Only members of the home, relatives and friends are supposed to pass through the eye of the home; intruders are harshly treated. In the more spiritual sense and when it is equipped with a structure carrying magical paraphernalia, the opening worked like a sieve to stop evil spirits from entering the home.
In the past a circular fence of thorn or logs was constructed around the home, to provide security against wild animals and people who may harm dwellers of the home. A small opening was left serving as literal entrance and exit that helped to define the inside and outside of the homestead. The same opening distinguished foreign and unwanted from domestic and desirable. I want to propose that the opening is doggang (Acholi for mouth of the homestead; meaning gate) instead of ‘eye’ of the homestead. My proposal is based on the assumption that the house is a module of the homestead and the morphology of the house is the same as that of the homestead. In the house there is wangot (Acholi for eye of the house, meaning window) and dogot (mouth of the house, which means door). Wanggang of Opira’s song probably means a small and window-like opening in the fence through which one could see outside or inside the homestead.
Why did Opira use ‘eye’ instead of ‘mouth’ of the homestead? A more obvious explanation is that he comes from an Acholi cultural province where ‘eye’ is used instead of ‘mouth’. The other explanation is that ‘eye’ communicates an emotion that is accurate to the scene of a child in great emotional pains. Opira sought to paint a dramatic scene picturing Oluuku standing in the eye of the home crying, for insiders and outsiders, all, to see his dilemma, which his mother’s departure caused him and the entire family. There are many examples where the ‘eye’ is used to bring drama in expressions; let cite only two of the many examples. First there is wangbur (Acholi for eye of the wound, refers the most painful section of the wound); it pains a picture of extreme pain. Second, there is wangbat (Acholi for a joint of any two parts of the body) it gives an image of the sexiest part of the body that one never touches unless prepared to meet ensuing desire.
Verse four of the song
| An dok apenyo Oluuku ni Mama ni ocite kwene Ma nakane atye Ka kuru en idog poto ni Oluuku dok oling manok Ka owaci mine ocito ii Owino Idye town kwica, ka wil Aah Oluuku Mama ni kono onongo cilling ne ki kwene Ma cito ka will kwede idye Owino kunu niKa kumano loko dong pee Wan wakur ka mamani odwogo An abe niang lok ennui kibot mama ni An abedo gang kany, nino aryo kulu, Dako ni pud peke An awaci Oluuku ka kit man an abecito Ka yenyo meni tektek ki ii townMama ni an anyomgo anyoma Ki lim pa wora Ci pingo mamani butu Itwon pi nino aryo kulu Arwate ki mama ni itown |
I again asked Oluuku Where did your mother go Knowing very well that I was waiting for her join me at the field Again took a little breath And said his mother went to Owino In the middle of town, shoppingAah, Oluuku Where did your mother get the money Big enough to go shopping at OwinoIf that is the matter, let me decide Let us wait till your mother returns I confirm the truth from your mother I stayed this home for two whole days, This very woman is no where to be seen I told Oluuku, this be the case, I am going To hunt down your mother in townYour mother, I married in full Using my the wealth of my father Why should your mother stay away In town for two whole days I go meet your mother in town |
Whereas verse three describes the scene Opira found when he reached home, verse four concerns MinOluuku’s intention for leaving home. She went shopping at Owino Market (hereafter referred to as Owino). What is so bad about a wife shopping at Owino? First, the name invokes an informal, an immoral, a riffraff and a dirty situation that is unfit for morally correct people. Owino is the name of a market in Kampala where junk is sold; open-air markets throughout Uganda, where used goods sell, adopted the name Owino. So, husbands are not happy when their wives go shopping at Owino because the place connects wives to immoral sex behaviors. East Africans are often uptight about sex morals, which is why virginity is still expected and to be a Malaya (sex worker or prostitute) is not yet a noble profession, especially for wives and mothers. The short of the story is Opira that is not happy with MinOluuku for behaving as if she is of loose moral conduct.
To find women shopping on their own in 21st Century Uganda is not disturbing because wealth is no longer a man-only thing. However, in the not so long-ago past wealth was a men-only thing for wealth was to marry wives; consequently, it was socially inconceivable for a woman to possess wealth. Money came on the scene and it soon established itself as a form of wealth and was understood a men-only thing, again to marry wives. Since it women did not marry wives, society did not expect women to have and spend money shopping. Opira, too, did not expect his wife to possess money and go shopping at Owino. The question on his lips was ‘where did she get the money?’ The understood answers were the following: – a man gave her money, there was another man in her life, some people made illegal love and punishment must follow.
Of course MinOluuku and the man in her life are the subject of punishment. In the more traditional Acholi punishment could be severe as death. And no matter her role the man is always assumed to be the architect of the said love affairs; meaning, the man is likely to die instead of the woman or both. Opira strongly suspected his wife was enjoying an extra-marital love affairs at his expense and was sure that he will one day catch his wife red handed because they say won lim kome gum (Acholi for a husband is always lucky enough to catch the culprits). So, Opira resolved to wait until his wife comes home, when he hoped to interrogate her, to explain why she left home and her son crying. But he waited for some time without seeing his wife; MinOluuku did not show up. Angry over his wife’s failure to come home, Opira set out to hunt down his wife hoping to find her somewhere in the middle of town.
For not yet fully explained reasons, dowry seems to give Acholi husbands authority over their wives. Some people think dowry is only a form of compensation to parents for their loss of their daughter’s labor. To think of a daughter in the context of labor is unkind for it is mistaking her for a slave; she is not a slave. Some say it is the purchase of female sexuality yet money cannot buy sex thought it may buy the illusion of sex, as may be the case in prostitution. Acholi dowry is the initiation of a husband-wife marriage, a good marriage is a friendly experience between husband and wife and their relatives. Opira said dako ma anyomo anyoma ki lim pa wora (Acholi for a woman that I married with my father’s wealth), suggesting that a wife is an investment at the level of a building and similar investments. I think he ran off with a bad mouth possibly because he was upset with the prospects of his was leaving him. Husbands usually do not like it when their wives leave them because it publicly shows something is wrong in their house, most people think happenings in the house is private and would prefer to keep such matters private. In addition life without a wife is difficult and somewhat improper; the prevailing opinion in Acholiland is that to be a wife or husband is a desirable destiny.
A father’s wealth that he uses to provide dowry for a son’s wife seems to increase and cement social connections between the father and his daughter in law and son. To provide a son’s dowry does more than provide for the rights of children, it lends his daughter-in-law and son a means to continuity. It enables the two to become a family and live a full life as is expected of all individuals. Sometime a dowry is like a social relay button that a man hands to his son who is expected to run with it until he, in turn, gives it the next man, his son. Though there are many explanations to the dowry, it seems to explain why the father and his agemates are respected. Whenever a man says ‘my father’s wealth in the context of marriage, he is invoking the spirit of dowry, which includes respect, dignity and oneness.
Verse five of the song
| Min Boy, min latina Min Boy, min latina Min Boy, min latina Min Oluuku lipere ii Owino Mmh ii Owino, tetei maxi, Maxi, leather, kitenge |
Mama boy, mother of my child Mama boy, mother of my child Mama boy, mother of my child Mama Oluuku, disappears in Owino Hmh in Owino are frocks and maxi skirt Maxi skirts, leather and kitenge clothes |
The first three lines of verse five appear to be a lamentation, Opira is lamenting and wondering why his wife not at home. Literally speaking ‘mama boy’, in the first line of verse five, means the mother of my son; but it also makes two contrasting references to a wife. One, it refers to her fondly because she is his lovely wife and as someone important because she gave him a boy. Since Acholi society is patriarchal, a boy in the family cannot be taken lightly because husbands are entitled to other wives if the first one does not give him a son. Two, the same expression may mean that she does not measure up to the level of a mother, much less of a boy. It is this case the expression is a form of sarcasm since she actually falls short of a true wife and mother of a son. A true wife and mother of a son ‘properly sits in her home’, meaning, she fits the docket without a shade of doubt- she is full time hostess, a provider, caretaker, whistle blower whenever things are wrong, a manager, a teacher and a doctor.
In the last three lines the above verse there is some indication on what Owino has to offer, which may explain why MinOluuku would visit the market. The attraction included maxi skirts, leather goods and kitenge fabrics; all are items of fashion in contemporary Uganda at prices that even the poor of Uganda can afford. Over the years Owino has become a symbol of economic equity, to enable the poor to get a sense of life intended for the rich and people in the fast lane.
Verse six of the song
| An kikoma ma oo idye town An angole ikom mama ni Ite mayembe kany ma caran Pol iye ikare caani Oluuku wek awaci An anongo mama ni Oketo wet look iwiye Acholi waci neno manyenAn aneno mama ni ma naka jwi Ki gang kany woto ki slippers An anongo mama ni ka woto ki war Ma tere rom ki nyg cinga acel kiken, Iter Owino kwica Man obalo wiya ma konye pee An aneno meni ka ogoyo lipstick idoge Doge nen bok calo winyo moni Ma lilwongo ni kidingkidng ni An bene aneno meni Ka orido pyere ki del makwar Ka owiro moo ma liwongo ni YEU |
I myself, when I got to town I chanced on your mother Under mango trees where sewing machines Used to be many long time ago Oluuku let me tell you I found your mother Spotting wet look on her head One that Acholis say is new lookI saw your mother who always Wears slippers here at home I found your mother walking in shoes Whose heels are as thin as my single finger Thereabouts in Owino Market Her deed disturbed my head without doubt I saw that your mother struck lipsticks in her lips Her lips look as red as this bird People call kidingkiding (a red finch) I also saw your mother With a big red belt tight around her waist And wearing a cosmetic called YEU |
WhenOpira does not find his wife at home and is informed that she went shopping at Owino, he goes looking for her at Owino. Verse six describes the scene at Owino, specifically under the mango tree where there were many sewing machines- meaning many tailors. By chance he spotted MinOluuku, his wife; he could see she appeared different from the wife he knew. She was adorning wet-look, a hair style that she did not wear before.
Her hair style indicated she went to a professional salon and paid money; again it is possible another man gave her the money since there is no indication that she was employed and earning wages. The wet look hairstyle was a sign that she was taking on a non-Acholi culture because wet-look was new and contemporary, not an Acholi traditional hairstyle.
MinOluuku used to go about in bathroom slippers; but on this day she wore stilettoes, a style of shoes that made her husband’s head spin dangerously. In addition she slapped lipstick on her lips that made her lips red like the beak of kidingkiding bird. Finally she wore a red big belt around her waist. At the time I was young, in the 1960s, many Acholi men would say that MinOluuku’s dress style amounted to ‘inviting men’; meaning, she was advertising her preparedness to engage in extramarital affairs. Of a lady who invites men they say wange ryeny (Acholi for her eyes shines or sparkles). Some men do not feel good about a wife with ‘sparkling eyes’ because they say such women are of loose moral conduct but ‘loose moral conduct’ is often used to hide the truth. The truth is that men don’t like sharing wives with other men and they do not like children of other men; they fear that women with ‘shining eyes’ may give them children of other men.
Verse seven of the song
| Min Boy, min latina Min Boy, min latina Min Boy, min latina Min Oluuku lipere ii Owino Mmmh ii Owino, tetei maxi, Maxi, leather, kitenge Kitenge mmh lipere ii adaki Hmm ii adaki kaunga maragwee |
Mother of boy, mother of my child Mother of boy, mother of my child Mother of boy, mother of my child Mother of Oluuku disappears in Owino Mmmh in Owino, frocks and maxi skirts Maxi skirt, leather and kitenge clothes Kitenge clothes mm, she disappears in the trench Hmh in the trench, maize meal and beans |
Verse seven repeats verse five save for the last two lines of the verse; especially the words trench, maize meal and beans that are important in Acholi history. The trench first entered Acholi idiom of expression during the first and second World Wars; but the expression was limited to the military men serving in Kings African Riffles and their immediate families. The trench significantly pervaded Acholi expression during Museveni’s time, when confrontation reigned between Uganda army and a small army of rebels. The trench was not only a weapon of choice in defense against the rebels; it was also boarding and lodging for child soldiers serving in National Resistance Army of that time. Desperately poor ladies spent their nights in the trench with soldiers and did so in exchange for a few Uganda shillings and food.
Beans arrived in Acholiland to help address the great famine kech muranga (Acholi for the famine of beans). I am not sure on the years of the famine but the bean entrenched itself as a survival food and it helps commemorate the famine. Maize entered in the 1950s when we were children, of about ten years old; we enjoyed boiled maize because it was sweet tasting, new and fun to eat. Of course as we grew older it was clear that maize was introduced to curb annual food shortages taking place every July. In short Acholi see both maize and beans as hardship food that is suitable for the military and ‘the motherless’ (a metaphor for the socially insecure hence poor of society). A poor person, who goes against established social behavior, can be forgiven for it is believed that poverty can make one do even bad things. Acholis openly engaged in social ills during Museveni’s Uganda because they became metaphorically motherless; meaning poor and desperate. How Acholi people got to feel motherless is a discussion for another day but it suffices to note that they forgave themselves and continued pursuing bad behaviors as MinOluuku exemplifies.
Verse eight of the song
| Inongo gin ma ocwero cwinya tutwal En aye tim pa mama ni Oluuku An anongo mama ni ojenge ikom Motoka ma ginlwongo ni Santana Gin ki laco ma tye Nyota aryo igwokeAn Olwoch onongo angeyo ni Acimayo mama ni kibot laco caa Pien onongo arukuku jeans Ki T-shirt ma gicoyo ikore ni Kanda Bongoman Ento gin ma obala aye war lutoka An aneno cwar mamani caa Woto ki war ma ginlwongo ni canvas An aneno mama ni Obite ki ginmo ibute Onongo angeyo ki kikapu, Kara radio ma ginlwongo ni Sanyo |
See what greatly upsets me Is the behavior of your mother I found your mother leaning on A motorcar called Santana In the company of a man Two stars on top of his shouldersI Olwoch entertained the thought that I would go snatch your mother from that man Because I was wearing jeans And a T-shirt on whose chest was printed Kanda Bongoman But what spoiled for me was tyre sandals I saw that your mother’s lover Walking shoes called canvas I saw your mother Carrying something beside her Which I mistook for a handbag Yet it was a radio called Sanyo |
Verse eight describes what Opira found when he went looking for his wife at Owino. Before discussing details of what happened, it is important to first note that Acholis see the market as a place and time to meet-up with friends, socialize and engage in courtship. Intense jostling for attention and domination of social space takes place in the market; this happens because of courtship. By standing together for long and in one spot, youth freely display their choices of will-soon-be or current partners in love; the display is a way of saying ‘don’t mess the party’. Any intruder who dares threaten on-going courtship is punished and rebuffed.
It is on the above backdrop that one may understand why Opira was not amused to see the mother of his son in the company of a strange man, a two-star general in the army. To make matter worse his wife and the other man were leaning against a vehicle called Santana, a symbol of British-style arrogance. Santana is a brand of Land Rover, a design that embodies British philosophy and outlook to life, especially intrigues and colonialism. As far as Acholis are concerned the Land Rover symbolizes uncompromising authority of Government and military subjugation. In the end one can see that Opira is in a very difficult situation and he needs to get his wife because that is why he went looking for her.
So he psyched himself to launch steps that would lead him to wrestle his wife from the army officer. He wore a pair of jeans and a T-shirt with Kanda-Bongo Man; movie stars and advertising positioned jeans and T-shirt as signs of big success yet remaining modest and informal. A Kanda Bongo Man T-shirt, in particular, was expected to lend social importance to those who wore it. This was expected because Kanda was a soukous-music star whose name was on the lips of every youth on the 1980s. However, Opira could not outcompete his rival and get his wife back because his footwear was war motoka or utok (Acholi for sandals made from recycled vehicle tires) while his rival wore a pair of canvas shoes. People think that tire sandals are for poor citizens while canvas shoes are of the upper class and rich. It is generally believed that fashion distinguishes the rich from the poor and none likes poverty; consequently, MinOluuku was unlikely to choose Opira’s poverty instead of the military officer’s apparent superior level of wealth.
We need to remember that colonial Europeans played tennis, bowling and other sports in white canvas shoes. The all-white tennis outfit including shoes soon proved a status symbol that a section of Acholi people adopted and used to show they, too, ‘had arrived’ (meaning, they had become Europeans in outlook and behaviors in a development journey destined is European culture). Though kikapu is Kiswahili for a common basket that early Europeans popularized throughout East Africa; kikapu can be viewed in the same light as white tennis shoes but does not accurately translate as a handbag. Opiru is the Acholi word for a bag, including handbags, but appetites for European bags severely undermined and eventually replaced the traditional Acholi opiru and other cultural objects.
In the song it seems Opira mistook a handbag for a portable Sanyo radio, a measure of upward mobility at Uganda independence in 1962. At that time only school-educated Acholis who are modern and wage earners could afford radios. Odoch remembers the mid-1950s as the time when the first radio came to our village Akara, where he was born and raised. We children, from far and wide, used to crowd around the one radio to experience listening to news in silence; anyone who whispered a word when news was on made a big mistake; a one-week ban was slapped on any child who made such a mistake. The ban helped make news and the radio rare, special and a distant experience. The relevance of news did not matter too much what mattered more was that the radio made us feel informed, knowledgeable and living above ground; in many ways we thought we were leaving ignorance and darkness behind. Phillips of Holland was the brand of radio we had in our village; Sanyo of Japan took over from Phillips and came at a time when portable transistor radios were fashion.
Verse nine of the song
| Inongo gin ma ocwero cwinya tutwal En aye tim pa mama ni Oluuku An anongo mama ni ojenge ikom Motoka ma ginlwongo ni Santana Gin ki laco ma tye Nyota aryo igwokeAn Olwoch onongo angeyo ni Acimayo mama ni kibot laco caa Pien onongo arukuku jeans Ki T-shirt ma gicoyo ikore ni Kanda Bongoman Ento gin ma obala aye war lutoka An aneno cwar mamani caa Woto ki war ma ginlwongo ni canvas An aneno mama ni Obite ki ginmo ibute Onongo angeyo ki kikapu, Kara radio ma ginlwongo ni SanyoMin Boy, min latina Min Boy, min latina Min Boy, min latina Oluuku lipere ii Owino Mmmh ii Owino, tetei maxi Maxi, leather, kitenge An ongongo angeyo ni Awinyo niya |
See what greatly upsets me Is the behavior of your mother I found your mother leaning on A motorcar called Santana In the company of a man Two stars on top of his shouldersI Olwoch entertained the thought that I would go snatch your mother from that man Because I was wearing jeans And a T-shirt on whose chest was printed Kanda Bongoman But what spoiled for me was tyre sandals I saw that your mother’s lover Walking shoes called canvas I saw your mother Carrying something beside her Which I mistook for a handbag Yet it was a radio called SanyoMama boy, the mother of my child Mama boy, the mother of my child Mama boy, the mother of my child Mother of Oluuku disappears in Owino Mmh in Owino frocks and maxi skirt Maxi skirt, leather and kitenge clothes I found myself hoping that I hear that |
The first of three parts of verse nine repeats verse seven; to undertake its analysis seems unnecessary. Let us begin at the second part of the verse, specifically at the ‘office’, a symbol of help during colonial and the first two decades of post-colonial Uganda. Beginning from the second decade of post-independence, the office has been a symbol of abuse and oppression; this is especially true with military governments of Idi Amin and Yoweri Museveni. Anyone who went to the office at this time was lucky to get service of any kind, instead one meets with corruption, bribes and many kinds of abuse. Indeed, Opira hoped going to the office would bring back his wife. He never got his wife because she was hidden in rooms occupied by the military, a means of denying citizens justice. In addition his MinOluku moved around in prestigious vehicles, beyond Opira who did not possess even a ramshackle bicycle.
At the end of verse is the expression atimi ninginingi (Acholi for what can I do with you; meaning, meaning, what can I do to make things good for you) that has to do with dilemmas in utter failure. When one wants to be but cannot be, wants to do but is unable to do or struggles to but fails to save a loved one from death, he may utter atime ninginingi (how do I behave, meaning what else can I do). The expression suggests the total defeat or flat failure of a person. In the case of this song it suggests that Opira had failed to wrestle his wife from the army officer; the failure affects both him and his son. Though he may seem to address only his son (Oluuku atimi ninginingi), in essence he also addresses himself as ‘where do I go after this sort of failure?’
It is clear that Opira is upset about the prospects of his wife leaving; one can advance several reasons to explain why Opira is upset. One, the belief that marriage is permanent with one husband though society largely accepts polygyny and polygamy. People disdain ‘day-old marriages’ for the practice is equated to biting good fruits once, discarding the left-over portions and spitting out the bitten portions’. Two, to obtain and to nurture children are the primary goals in Acholi marriage; both objects are achievable only via fertile female-male collaboration. Obtaining children without female-male collaboration is biologically impossible. To nurture children without their mothers is like a bull trying to feed a calf, to do so is impossible because a bull has no teats. In short, males are not yet designed and equipped to nurture children. Opira was possibly frightened at the prospects of having to nurture Oluku alone, an impossible task because he ‘has not teats’ (not wired to nurture infants); this is why he asked ‘Oluuku atimi ninginingi– (Oluuku what can I do with you??
Verse ten of the song
| Ki gum marac Ikare ma arwate Ki omera tung Pandwong Owaca niya Laworo enongo mama ni Ka otono ngute ii road block Tye ka kuru convoy Me cito Lira Mama ni ka onyono convoy Teke ilwongo nying Kitgum Bale kwedi ma konye peEnto an ki gang kany Awako dano okayo nyim Obino yen pyere adek wiye abicel An awaco ki Oluuku ni Man lonyo madit Ma kilwongo nit white gold Ber wek kong mama ni Omede ki wote |
As bad luck would have it When I met With my brother around Pandwong He told me that Yesterday he spotted your mother Confidently seated at the road block Waiting for the convoy Heading out, to Lira Should your mother reach a convoy And should you mention Kitgum She will make you her big enemyMeanwhile here at home I invited people who harvested sesame crop Enough to fill a structure of thirty six poles I reminded Oluuku that This big wealth That is known as white gold Let your mother Continue roaming about |
To literally translate the first line of verse ten may lead one to think that Opira considered meeting his brother to be bad luck; this is confusing, the correct position is that Opira met his brother by chance, without plan and prior arrangement. However in the more contemporary conversations you people tend to refer to ‘gum marac– as bad luck would have it’ when they mean without plan. When exactly the distortion in expression occurred remains guesswork; my guess is that it occurred when school education and its non-Acholi influences took roots. School education accounts for formal employment in urban centers far away from Acholiland, English language, Kiswahili, Luganda and other Uganda native languages are conduits by which Acholi verbal expression may be distorted.
Anyway and without intention Opira met his brother at Pandwong, a location within Kitgum municipality. His brother told him he saw MinOluuku at the roadblock, waiting for a convoy of vehicles going to Lira; during periods of insecurity, there was permanent roadblock at Pandwong. The roadblock was a symbol of the military and political struggle between Yoweri Museveni’s National Resistance Army and Lord’s Resistance Army led by Joseph Kony. To ask why the opposing forces sought to control is a security question whose answers lodge in not-yet-published military intelligence. But I think Kitgum was known to be the area of Uganda that was opposed Museveni’s leadership with every energy it could marshall. Based on this understanding one can say that Museveni saw Kitgum was a symbolic gate to enter and break opposition to his rule. Meanwhile Kony saw the same Kitgum town as a gate he needs to protect to stop National Resistance Army from entering his region of control.
Kitgum town, in general, and Pandwong, in particular, remained a gate for travelers, those without active interests in the political struggle but were affected by the insecurity of the 1990s. On reaching Pandwong and its roadblock travelers coming from the directions of Lira in the south or Gulu in the west were grateful they escaped deadly ambushes on the way and got to Kitgum. Ambushes were why vehicles travelled in convoys, apparently safer because armed soldiers escorted convoys between Kitgum and Lira or Gulu. But the travelers were also worried that they had entered different life-threatening dangers of abduction and death that soldiers of both National and Lord’s Resistance Army presented. Boo kech (cow pea leaves are bitter; referring to lawless rangers) was another life-threatening danger in the sense they robbed or killed anybody at will. Travelers as MinOluuku who are leaving Kitgum town saw Pandwong and the place to wait for a convoy out of Kitgum town; a convoy meant getting out of insecurity in Kitgum, entering danger lurking on the way and hopefully entering safety at Lira or Gulu. MinOluuku desperately wanted to get out of Kitgum. Anybody can understand why the mere mention of Kitgum made MinOluuku’s temperature rise and boiled-over. First, she was tired of insecurity and two, it is possible she wanted to get away from her husband for another reason rather the boyfriend in military. As we shall see later MinOluuku ended up in Malaaba, at the border with Kenya and without the military officer.
The third part of the same verse ten is a description of Opira’s first reaction to his wife’s abandoning her marriage. He organized the harvest of their sesame crop and it seemed a big harvest; a harvest that takes a structure of thirty-six poles is considered a very big quantity of sesame. There are three main parts in the harvest of the crop; the first part entails cutting the crop from the wet stem. The second part is to erect a structure of poles and place the wet and freshly cut crop on the structure where it dries. Once dry, the crop is removed from the structure and the sesame is shaken free from the dry pods; from the thirty six poles one expects many sacks of sesame and that meanslots of money. Verse ten ends in a third part, which is a repetition of the first part of verse nine and verse seven.
Verse eleven of the song
| An awaci amak bac me cito Tororo Me rwate ki meni Wek aniange tame me agiki An ki gum maber Ikare ma aoo Tororo An angole ikom meni Ii buspark TororoOluuku wek awaci An amoto mama ni Ki leb Acholi ni Kop ango Mama ni ogama ki leb Kiswahili ni Mimi apana jua An awinyo mama ni ka waco Ki dako moni ma guwoto gin kwede Ni ‘peleka yeye kwa huyu’ Man obalo wiya ma konye pee An amede ki lok ki mama ni Ki leb Acholi Mama ni ogama ki leb Luloka ni Sii manyi KiCholiAn akato tung Kampala Kalimo nera An adwogo ki kunu Anongo repot ma waci Mama ni okobe ki Tororo Tye waa Malaaba Min Boy, min latina |
I decided to catch a bus for Tororo To go meet her And get her final decision As chance would have it And on reaching Tororo By chance I met your mother At Tororo Bus ParkOluuku let me tell you When I greeted your mother In Acholi tongue that What is the news? Your mother responded in Kiswahili I do not know that language I heard your mother telling The other woman in her company That ‘take him to the other person’s place’ Her behavior badly disturbed my head I insisted talking to your mother In Acholi language Your mother answered me in Luganda Saying she does not know Acholi languageI continued onto Kampala To visit my uncle On my return from there I got information to the effect that Your mother left Tororo She is residing in Malaaba Mama boy, the mother of my child |
Verse eleven concerns the second step Opira took since his wife left Kitgum; essentially he looked for her, found her in Tororo and tried to bring her back. He failed and proceeded to Kampala in disappointment. The discussion of this verse centers on what transpired during the Tororo meeting, between the was-husband and was-wife. The song does not explain why Opira took a bus to Tororo leaving Lira, Soroti and Mbale behind him; I suppose someone told him his wife was at Tororo. Besides, there is no suggestion on how Opira navigated his way to Tororo, it is not clear whether or not someone else took him to Tororo? That Opira continued to Kampala to visit his uncle suggests that he knew how to get around Uganda without hand-holding.
When meeting her by chance at Tororo bus park, he addressed her in Acholi she responded in Kiswahili; her response in Kiswahili shows she had nothing to do with him. He insisted on talking to her in Acholi; this time she responded in Luganda, a language of the Baganda, people in the south of Uganda. Acholi people and Baganda have not been easy bedfellows mainly because of politico-historical reasons that need another piece in order to do it justice. For now it is important to note that Acholis, in general, take great exception to other Acholis responding to them in foreign languages. Given this position on foreign languages one sees that MinOluuku intended to ignore and openly offend Opira. Though Kiswahili and Luganda are widely spoken in Uganda, Opira is unlikely to enjoy his wife addressing him in Kiswahili or Luganda because the two facilitated the enslavement of many Acholis.
Whether for good or bad reasons, talking ill of other people is common practice among the Acholis and possibly other peoples of the world. As a part of talking ill of other people, backbiting often goes on in foreign languages, in whispers or out of hearing distance, to keep the subject ignorant of goings on. Ill-motives and fear of negative reactions may explain why the subject should remain uninformed and ignorant; meaning, MinOluuku’s response in Kiswahili (peleka yeye kwa huyo- take him to the other person) was most likely ill motivated. Again, Acholis do not like fellow Acholis to respond in foreign languages because they see evil in such responses; this is why Opira was not happy with MinOluuku and was sure she left him.
Verse twelve of the song
| An ikare ma adwogo gang kany An atengo nyim ma romo Gunia pyere aryo wiye angwen kulu Oluuku ocako owaca cutcut Ni en emito cito ka cato nyim An awaci ka Oluuku odonyo Ii Kitgum kany Wel nyim miya aryro ki pyere abic Kilo acel acel Wel maber atikatika, Oluuku okweroAn dok awaco ki Oluuku ni ocit Lira An awinyo ni wel nyim Ciling miya babicel kilo acel Wel madong ber loyo weng Ducu weng Oluuku okwero Ento latin owaca motmot Ni en emito cito Kacato nyim Malaaba Kara mine ocoyo waraga ni Oluuku ocit orwate kwede MalaabaMin Boy, min latina Min Boy, min latina Min Boy, min latina Min Oluuku lipere ii Owino Mmmh ii Owino, tetei maxi, Maxi, leather, kitenge |
On my return to home I harvested sesame to the tune of Twenty-four full sacks On seeing that Oluuku immediately began telling Me that he wants to sell the sacks of sesame I advised Oluuku to get it done Here in Kitgum At the price of two-hundred and fifty shillings For each one kilogram A very good price indeed Oluuku refusedI again advised Oluuku to go to Lira I hear the price of sesame Six hundred shillings for one kilogram The best of all prices Again Oluuku refuse it all Eventually my son quietly told me That he wants To sell the sesame in Malaaba Of course his mother had written Directing Oluuku to meet her at MalaabaMama boy, mother of my child Mama boy, mother of my child Mama boy, mother of my child Mama Oluuku, disappears in Owino Market Hmmh in Owino are frocks and maxi skirt Maxi skirts, leather and kitenge clothes |
Certain that his wife had abandoned their marriage, he returned to his home in Kitgum where his sesame is dry and ready for tengo (tapping on the dry bundle of sesame stems to free the seeds from the pods), the third part of the crop harvest. He obtained twenty-four full bags from the harvest. As soon as Oluuku saw the good harvest he imagined much money and proposed to sell the product. Opira accepted his son’s proposal but advised that sale takes place in Kitgum town where he thinks the price is very good. Oluuku did not accept to sell the sesame in neither Kitgum nor Lira because his mother preferred Malaaba where she would be able to freely access money from the sale. In the end she had it her way.
One may wonder why Opira did not enforce his advice to sell the sesame in Kitgum. He did not because Acholi parents tend to give teenage children and young adults freedom to do. The freedom to do facilitates real-life experimentation, trial and error, getting it right or wrong and learning what works or doesn’t work; lessons learnt apply in adult life and amount to wisdom of elders. As is often the case, peers and relatives often influence young adults; in this case his mother influenced Oluuku and followed her instruction to trade in Malaaba. In general Acholi children listen to their mothers more than their fathers; this is common especially when a family is falling apart as was happening in Opira’s family.
Verse thirteen of the song
| An awinyo ni Oluuku Ikare ma oo Malaaba kunu Min Oluuku owaci nyim Ma Oluuku okelo ni Gililo woko weng me banya waa Man awinyo ni dako Obwolo laco ni owil pikipiki Laco owilo pikipiki Ma kilwongo ni Honda Ngwec pa Oluuku idye Malaaba Ki mat gin ki mine Ii bar Malaaba kunu Awinyo ni kono per cire baaAn awaci Oluuku pe ocat nyim Malaaba Oluuku okwero Awaci Oluuku pe ocat nyim Lira, Oluuku okwero woko Man awinyo ni Laco ooyo lake woko weng Bade aryo weng onginye woko Tyene acel bene dok otur woko Man atimo Oluuku ningning Man me pa Oluuku gin Ki mama ne Malaaba kunu An pe amito ngat moo obin Kayelo wiya kilok mingomingoMin Boy, min latina Min Boy, min latina Min Boy, min latina Min Oluuku lipere ii Owino Mmmh ii Owino, tetei maxi, Maxi, leather, kitenge |
I heard that Mama Oluuku When she reached there in Malaaba Mama Oluuku decided the sesame That Oluuku brought will be sold And proceed will be used to compensate her I also hear that the woman Persuaded the young man to buy a motor bike The young bought a motorbike People call it Honda Riding at such a high speed in Malaaba And drinking drunk In Malaaba bars I hear it is difficult to tolerateI advised Oluuku not to sell sesame in Malaaba Oluuku refused I advised Oluuku not to sell sesame in Lira Oluuku utterly refused Now I heard that The young man lost all his teeth Both his two arms severely fractured Even one of his legs is fractured Now what I can do with Oluuku This thing of Oluuku together With his mother there in Malaaba I do not want any body to come Bothering my head with matters foolish-foolishMama boy, mother of my child Mama boy, mother of my child Mama boy, mother of my child Mama Oluuku, disappears in Owino Hmmh in Owino are frocks and maxi skirt Maxi skirts, leather and kitenge clothes |
MinOluuku’s true intention unfolds in verse thirteen of the song. She declares that moneys emanating from the sale of the sesame are hers, to use as she pleases. And it seems having fun is what she pleases; she persuaded her son to buy a motorbike as a show of success and economic power. Honda was popular but a later comer on the scene of motorbikes in Acholiland. First on the scene was the British BSA, Italian Vespa followed later in the 1960s. However Honda established itself as Japanese, different, young and powerful but affordable; this are some of the reasons why MinOluuku wanted her to ride a Honda. Acholis began seeing the Japanese as daring and fierce during the Second World War; young adults like the Honda possibly because of the fierce and daring Japanese image. Soon after the war, a Japanese knife arrived in the market and it was known to be sharp and able to cut through other metals; this image may have come from the assumed character of Japanese sword. Again Honda benefitted from the image for young men often like to see themselves as sharp and conquerors if not utterly invincible.
MinOluuku also went on drinking sprees believing that that was life high in the sky and that money could buy highlife. Yet Acholi alcohol was a lubricant used in marriage negotiations or in conversation between two intimate friends, not highlife; alcohol was not about highlife. It seems MinOluuku lifestyle had changed to be non-Acholi for she thought moneys from the sale of the sesame was payment of debt Opira owed her. The Acholi perception of debt includes revenge for wrongs done; in the story of this song it is very hard to see who wronged MinOluuku. The person who wronged her cannot be her husband Opira since it is apparent that she was on a course to life with a man in military uniform, ka ryeyo tyen (where one stretches her legs; meaning, life without work, easy and pleasant). Maybe she was angry because the man in uniform left her; if yes, it would still be unfair for her to dump her anger on Opira.
Oluuku’s life of riding a motorbike while drunk led to an accident where he lost all his teeth and broke his limbs; this is a case of apparent joy leading to pains. Opira recounted how his advices were rejected and how the story would be different if his son only cared to listen. It is probable every member of the family regretted:- Opira for not insisting things are done his way, MinOluuku for failure to see beyond pleasure and Oluuku for doing without reflecting on goings-on. In Acholi they say angee tyene lit (‘I wish’ has sick legs; meaning, regrets come after the fact, too late). The expression attempts to suggest that there is not point in regrets because they are always too late to be useful.
Summary
Before discussing the song more fully, let us first view the place of songs, in general, in Acholi culture. As may be the case in many peoples in Africa, Acholis use songs to oil life when it seems to be grinding to a halt. This is especially true for funerary songs that are performed as a way of mourning the dead and shining lights on the brighter sides of life. Acholis also use songs to add a little spice to life that may be boring; this is true to of songs that people sing as they perform difficult and boring work such as grinding sorghum into flour. Songs may be used as fine brushes, to paint pictures of concepts that may be difficult to grasp; love and hate are only two examples of many concepts that are often difficult to comprehend. Songs are integral to dances. They say ‘to dance without singing’ is like herding cattle without a stick or eating salt-less food; you pay hell for attempting to dance without singing. Finally songs inform hoping to teach lessons on life. This song, MinOluuku, concerns a woman who left her husband for a man in military uniform. Essentially it hopes to teach lessons on why we should refrain from things that may harm our morals and undermine our sense of being a people.
Today’s intellectuals and scholars like to throw scorn at colonialism but we must remember that pre-colonial life was mercilessly oppressive. It was full of savage emotional and physical pains; the expression ‘bedo kaco idyere adyera (patriarchal life calls for dedication)’ is a symbol of troubles women used to tolerate in order to stay married. By bringing Opira’s song and characters together with those of Okot p’Bitek, now over 50 years after Okot wrote, and 36 years after his death, we hope to use the analysis of cultural details to heighten the impact of contemporary Acholi song. We also intend to show in some small way, how times have changed from the densely patriarchal times of Okot and his contemporaries. Opira is severely injured emotionally and socially by a transformation that he never saw coming because he assumed continuity of what he knew. In this he was connected to Lawino. With Okot so long gone, we can only speculate on how he would have dealt with the transformation of gender relations in Acholiland and how he would have understood MinOluuku’s actions and Opira’s reaction.
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Odoch Pido is a designer and a professor of design at the Department of Design and Creative Media, the Technical University of Kenya.
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