NEITHER GOD NOR THE DEVIL HAD A HAND IN IT. JULIET TUMWESIGYE ‘S BLOOD IS UPON OUR HEADS AND OUR HEADS ALONE.

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Everyone who cares about what we have been through as a community, as a blood stained society, read this. Now.

diary of a headless chicken

I have refused to attribute the death of Juliet to mystic powers.

Distress drove me to inquire rhetorically as the bereaved often do to a friend;

But Why Ruth? Why???

And my friend true to the form of believers gave me the ageless answer,

Nobody knows Anne, but I guess God had his reasons.

It was a phone conversation and I had neither the air time nor the energy to drag Ruth into a debate about the physical and metaphysical. I knew Ruth was trying to cope and that was her way of coping. I had to find mine.

I went through it. Cried. Shunned food. Took to social media. Showed Julie’s photos to those who didn’t know her, bringing  them in on my grief… followed those going for burial to Ibanda online… anything to numb the pain,  to let my frustration out. To send Julie off.

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