The city was the seat of government, the center of power, and if it meant fighting for it to the death or bombing it flat, those caught in the cross fire would certainly perish. Serenity, who had not been too shaken up by the robbery at the gas station, found himself shivering. At the same time, he felt eternally grateful to Hajj, whom he saw more and more as the elder brother he never had. That fate had brought them together, first as neighbors, then as bosom friends, made Hajj seem like a gift from above.
It now occurred to Serenity that with the fall of Amin, he might lose his trade-union post, and maybe even his job. He started thinking very hard about the future.
Mariko looked with smug amusement at his two scheming friends: his family owned large tracts of land in several rural areas and one or two in the city. He volunteered to give free accommodation to Serenity’s family in case war broke out. Concealing his irritation, Serenity smiled at him.
Serenity asked the man who had helped Hajj find a clean piece of land to do the same for him. The era of the magical delivery notes had ended: army officers had taken over the management of state factories, most of which had been decimated by mismanagement and corruption, and it had become virtually impossible to fool them. Serenity, who had no death wish, had quickly adapted to the times. He discovered a safer way to make money: by saving on trade-union purchases like gas, he amassed a small fortune. The incompetence of his new boss played into his hands, although, with characteristic restraint, he took only what he could account for. After getting the land, he commissioned a house plan, bribed somebody in the land office to get it quickly approved and within two months of the purchase, the builders had started working. After the house had reached window level, Serenity realized how wonderful it was to own the roof over one’s head.
The year ended well, and the new one started rather quietly. Nothing special happened, and the friends hoped 1977 might be better than 1976 had been. Till Hajj brought some very disturbing news.
“One of the big Christian leaders is in trouble,” he said one afternoon.
“The Catholic archbishop, you mean?” Serenity asked. Not long after the honeymoon of Amin’s coup, the Catholic primate had become Amin’s most outspoken enemy and critic. He had criticized the killing of priests, one of whom had been the editor of a Catholic journal; the expulsion of missionaries; the rape of nuns; the kidnapping and killing of prominent Catholics; the killing of people in general; the breakdown of order; and abuses of power by the army and the security agencies. There had been rumors of attempts on his life, house searches and other forms of persecution, but so far the campaign had remained at that, and it had not stopped him from talking.
“I do not know for sure,” Hajj admitted.
“Surely it can’t be the Anglican archbishop,” Mariko said uneasily. The Anglican Church had taken a middle-of-the-road course and had not been very openly critical of Amin’s government. Although prominent Protestants had also disappeared, it had not been particularly bad in a bad situation. The Protestants had always tended to be pragmatic in their politics, and it was that pragmatism that had won their party, the Uganda People’s Congress, power at Independence. A large number of Ugandan exiles in Tanzania were Protestant, and therefore linked to the UPC, but there was no direct contact between the exiles and the Protestant religious leaders.
“Recently there has been much noise from Tanzania, and the impression is that the exiles led by Obote and the Protestant faction are up to something,” Hajj explained.
“Exile always means that somebody is up to something, doesn’t it?” Mariko, feeling the need for desperate reassurance, said wearily.
“I am talking about infiltration. There are rumors that guerrillas are already inside the country. Some of their leaders slip in and out of Uganda and boast about their escapades on Radio Tanzania. What this means is that there are collaborators who have not yet been unearthed.”
“I don’t want to think about it,” Mariko said irritably.
“Nobody wants to think about it,” Serenity said.
Politics and religion were hand in glove: theoretically, every Muslim was behind Amin, every Catholic behind the banned Democratic Party and every Protestant behind the hibernating UPC. As a result, religious leaders had the patina of demigods, controlling people’s minds and souls. It also meant that antagonizing or harming a religious leader would bring the wrath of his followers on your head.
“The Anglican archbishop is untouchable. He is archbishop not only of Uganda but also of Rwanda, Burundi and Zaire. He is an international figure. Amin dare not touch him.”
“He is also an Acholi, and Acholis and Langis have not done well, since the Obote connection makes them possible allies on a tribal basis,” said Serenity, now getting the hang of it.
“All this saddens me a great deal,” Mariko said.
“This is not about religion,” Hajj explained. “It is about politics. Many Christians think that the Muslims have been immune to Amin’s interference and are therefore safe. Nobody is safe. Look, Amin created the Muslim Supreme Council to control Muslim affairs, and he has not hesitated to depose council leaders when it suited him. Some even lost their lives. So if he plans to interfere with the Christian churches, it is because he sees it as the only solution to his political problems. Remember, it is coming on a hundred years since the advent of Christianity in this country. This very year, the Protestant Church is going to celebrate its centenary. Amin and his henchmen must be worried to death about the implications, both local and foreign, of such a big event.”
“Exiles and other forces using the chance to destabilize the country, eh?” Serenity suggested.
“Yes,” Hajj replied grimly, his beard swaying morosely.
“The hands of our religious leaders are clean,” Mariko said, vexed, almost shouting at his friends.
“You remember the Islamization rumor, don’t you?” Hajj said.
“Yes, it was said that Amin was going to declare this a Muslim country,” Mariko replied, looking suspiciously at his Muslim friend as though he were a government spy trying to trap him.
“That rumor had unexpected repercussions,” Hajj continued. “It drove more Christians to church. This being the centenary year, the churches will burst at the seams. In two years’ time, it will be the Catholic centenary. All this mounting excitement is leading to sleepless nights in high places.”
The three friends did not have long to wait. News came that the Anglican archbishop’s residence had been searched for weapons. As tensions rose, especially among the Protestants, government radio admitted that the search had taken place. The Anglican Church fought back by writing a strong letter to Amin, washing the Church clean of involvement in anti-government activities and mourning the growing insecurity in the country.