So Norbert Mao, firebrand freedom fighter, former presidential candidate, sex symbol announced this week that he was taking a break from active politics to recuperate after a recent health scare. You may have heard the news, maybe even heard the speech. But what you didn’t hear was the several drafts his speechwriters gave him before he settled on the final one. We got our hands on one of the rejected speeches. Nalumansi.
Friends, Ugandans, Countrymen,
Screw this. Screw all of this.
For all these years I have given my everything to one goal… Democracy in Uganda. I have fought to free this country from tyranny. I have given the best years of my life to this cause.
And what have I got in exchange?
The last elections? What was that all about? You call those votes? That’s like I ask you for a drink and you serve me one shot of toilet water.
From a bottle top.
But even after that, I still stood up for you. When you-know-who with the bald head and the enkoni was dictating all over your asses and you needed someone to fight, I was there.
Because by someone you meant anyone but Besigye– at that point calling him was like ordering an amputation for a malaria diagnosis,
And don’t get me started on Lukyamuzi: some niggas should just stay in their bufunda instead of staggering onto the battlefield exacerbating shit that is already at a crisis point of mayhem without their interference.
Ken, sit down and take a nap. Cos we don’t want!
So there I was, on the front lines, getting my ass beaten up, down and sideways by cops whose IQ is lower than my shoe size, getting teargassed in 30 degree heat, getting my bespoke suits ruined by that disgusting pink fluid. I don’t even know where Kayihura got that stuff. It stinks. You don’t know this cos you were just watching it on TV but that pink stuff stinks. It’s like being sharted on by this thing…
It was NOT strawberry milkshake, I can assure you.
But I stuck with it, people. I stuck to the fight. I did this for you.
I could have been anywhere else. I am not a poor dude. I have mad guap. You don’t even know how I roll: pockets swoll!
I could have been in Dubai with Naomi fishing for dolphins or whatever they do in Dubai. I don’t even know. I was so busy fighting for people’s rights that I ended up as the only Ugandan millionaire who doesn’t know what people do in Dubai.
I haven’t even watched The Avengers. I have never even seen 3D.
I could have watched that film on IMAX. In Dubai. Instead of being spat on by police constables who know as well as I do that they are barely half as intelligent as my used undies.
So when all this stress has me wind up in a hospital bed I wake up and think. I look at what I have done with my life. And how in all this time you ingrates still haven’t made me president.
What the hell am I still gnashing for then?
That was a nice hospital bed. I could be lying on nice beds. In Dubai. For the rest of my life and never have to smell Kayihura’s disgusting pink shit ever again.
Cos you know what?
I love you Uganda, and I really want the best for you.
But I have to do what’s best for me, too.
Truth is you bastards never deserved me, that’s why you never appreciated me. And that’s why I have to say this. I am throwing up a two-finger sign and it doesn’t mean FDC.
It means deuces.