Those familiar with him know that his genius was not just wordplay, but also, and most importantly, speaking the unspeakable. Through lofty wit, imagery, cynicism, and feigned lunacy, the old man’s rather weird commentary on social and political events resonated with a wide majority in the region.
Viewed as a clown, joker and idiot, Ishe-Katabazi earned his fame by breaking with all convention and formality. His art was the epitome of the truism, “without fear or favour:”
He criticised/insulted the mighty and powerful; attacked witches and wizards, rebuked thieves and misers, etc.! In Ankole, Ishe-Katabazi was present at every public function [that is, the best rhetoricians had to quote him at some point]. Not only did he summarise complex opinions, but delivered them with incredible boldness and biting humour – to the delight of a cheering and affectionate audience.
Even his victims savoured his jibes. Now, whether Ishe-Katabazi ever lived or not is surely a non-issue, what matters is the place of his legacy in our time. As an image, Ishe-Katabazi spoke for the downtrodden, the oppressed – Fanon’s wretched of the earth.
I want to think about Tamale Mirundi as a modern-day Ishe-Katabazi. But one caveat is hastily in order: I’m not talking about the hungry Mirundi, who for issues of bread and butter professed to being Museveni’s “backing dog.”
I’m interested in the Mirundi whose stubborn soul continued to see injustice despite being in a satiated body. Perhaps I should dedicate this piece to Mirundi’s troubled soul. We may never know how Mirundi learned his art of rhetoric, but we know his flair is without question. His deployment of imagery and figuration in the Luganda language [understood by over 50 per cent of Ugandans] is perhaps the best in his generation.
It is not just his knowledge of proverbial Luganda, but also the simplicity with which he creates idioms likening unusual but familiar items, is delicious cuisine to the ear. As a quick wit, and eloquent speaker, Mirundi’s sense of our recent history is commendable. The ease with which Mirundi moves from one topic to another – journalism, popular politics, marketing, Christianity and even Islam – making connection between them with appreciable insight, is impressive.
Having worked as a journalist and later as government functionary has earned him rare depth into the workings of the state, and access to certain classified that ordinary people (including journalists) rarely have. All these have combined to give him an exclusive pedestal from which to speak.
In addition to an impetuous self, Mirundi commands his platform with a natural arrogance that often comes with knowledge [or money]. His English, which he speaks with an excessive Luganda accent often, is cause for suppressed-laughter. Interestingly, it is difficult to fully hate Mirundi: Is he funny? Of course! Is he daring? Yes. Is he smart? Yes. Do many think he’s an idiot? Yes.
Despite Mirundi’s professed intellectualism, his critics see him as a crack-head of sorts [a positive attribute, considering his cast]. But what is Mirundi’s real place in Uganda’s political drama?
I want to suggest that it his power to bring Ishe-Katabazi back to life: Dispensing with all diplomacy, Ishe-Katabazi humorously but bitterly attacked the men and women of status who were actually behaving like idiots. Like Ishe-Katabazi, Mirundi’s complex combination of rhetorical eloquence and a daring boldness to speak about the unspeakable – disguised as lunacy/intellectualism, is his genius!
Surely, many Kampalans – the strugglers, by far the majority – think KCCA’s Jenipher Musisi and Frank Tumwebaze are extremist honchos gambling as patriotic urban developers [You need to listen to Mirundi’s critique of Kampala’s cityness].
With his penchant for flip-flopping, many think Gilbert Bukenya is a clumsy politician. And so is that lengthy list of Mirundi nemeses. Indeed, those who love Mirundi find him not just enlightening, but also an eloquent voice to their own hitherto subdued opinions/insults.
As evidence of Mirundi’s genius, an entire popular cultural world has blossomed around his figure: Radio and televisions stations are fighting to host him. There are Facebook users who never miss to upload videos of his most recent pronouncements. Comedians are making careers off Mirundi’s persona. And newspapers have offered extended coverage to his troubles and tribulations.
Surely, even those fighting him will miss him – at least his humour. Ironically, banning him may seem like victory for his enemies, but is actually a sign of his greatness. I want to think that the “self-made” may be down, but not yet out.
The author is a PhD fellow at Makerere Institute of Social Research (MISR)
