I was nominated the other week. For an award. An apparently swanky one, with a ceremony that had ushers and drinks and sponsors. Like a real award.
I was nominated twice, actually, once for best entertainment writer, but since I retired from showbiz journalism like seventeen years ago, I don’t count that. When Obsessions won best hip hop act at the first PAM Awards, I had already left the game.
There was a nomination for Best Blogger In Uganda 2013, which I lost to a gentleman named Beewol.
I am devastated.
You know, of course, that everything I have ever done on this internet has been a plea for validation— it is not enough to just be brilliant, I must be called brilliant, and I must be called that by strangers wielding glass fists on stages. If I don’t have a trophy, if all I have is a blog, how will I prove that I am, in fact, the Most Awesome Blogger In Uganda 2013? If I lose the award, will that not mean that all these years have been for naught?
Well, I guess.
I lost the award, signaling that all these years have been for naught. I am not the Best Thing Blogging Out Of Uganda 2013, and I am not even sure I got second place. I wasn’t there. I didn’t even get to clap nervously, with a plastic smile heaving to fall off my face as Beewol strode up to the podium to hoist the glass thumbsup and seal my defeat. I cannot confirm or deny that he said “In all y’all’s faces, biatches!” as he did it.
I guess I could take a hint, the public voted, the judges deliberated, it’s clear that I am not appreciated here. I should just call it quits and leave.
But then again, what kind of Ugandan would I be if I did that?
I look back on the history of my blogging and remember how it all started with this guy.
And I get inspired. Yes, I shall learn from my role model to accept no defeat ever. I declare that I reject the results given by the electoral commission and call upon the idle and disorderly to join me in protests in whatever street we can find. Please, as you walk wherever you are walking, dedicate one step to the fight for freedom from the oppressive Beewolocracy.
The great thing about this sort of protest is that even if you don’t do it, I have no way of knowing. I can just assume that anyone I see on the streets is protesting with me. You can’t prove they are not. Just like I assumed I was the Most Astounding Internet Thing In Uganda’s History 2013, only to have my illusion shattered when I lost this competition so miserably.