BUKENYA: On Mashujaa Day, I will celebrate these heroines

Yvonne Namaganda was nine years old when she died in 2008. Nine years later, on Uganda’s Heroes’ Day, June 9 this year, Yvonne was named a National Hero. She had died while trying to rescue her fellow pupils from a fire that engulfed their dormitory at the Budo Junior School.

The school is the main feeder institution to the famous Kings’ College Budo, the main training ground for the region’s aristocracy. I have told you somewhere that, apart from at least three Ugandan Kings, Charles Njonjo and David Rubadiri were once scholars there. Kings’ is also the alma mater of notable scholars and poets, like Timothy Wangusa, Henry Barlow and Okot p‘Bitek.

Yvonne’s heroic demise in the Budo inferno leapt with a searing poignancy into my memory a few weeks ago with the story of fourteen-year old Mary Mokaya. This is the young woman who did all in her power to save her friends from the recent dormitory fire at the Moi Nairobi Girls School. She survived the fire but died a few days later, succumbing to the burns she sustained.

Many lessons, and questions, can be drawn from the tragic but truly heroic stories of these young girls. The questions that are being asked about the Moi Nairobi Girls fire today are almost identical to the ones asked about the Budo fire nine years ago and six hundred kilometres away.

WHO IS RESPONSIBLE?

Who is primarily responsible for the security of our children at school? Is there no way of ensuring safe exit from every school building in the event of a fire? Are all the rules regarding numbers, accessibility and warning devices in institutional accommodation known, enforced and observed? Are regular fire drills carried out in all our schools? When was the last one effected at your school?

Are the young people in our educational institutions competently informed about emergencies? Do our schools, especially the boarding ones, have regularly inspected and serviced fire extinguishers? Does the school population know how to use them? Mary Mokaya, it is reported, started her fight against the fire by trying to beat it out with her blanket!

Let us hope that we shall not be asking the same questions, in sorrow, tomorrow, next year or 10 years from now anywhere in East Africa. While there is no totally infallible way to avoid accidents, there is a lot we can do to reduce them and limit the damage they cause. We all heaved a sigh of relief, for example, when timely intervention at Nairobi’s Saint George’s School ensured that a fire that broke out there, barely a week after the Moi Girls one, claimed no casualties.

But what struck me most profoundly about the courage of Yvonne and Mary is the phenomenal social sense of these children. We were talking about this some time ago, saying that what makes us truly human is self-respect, respect for one another and respect for our environment. Respect does not mean empty bowing and kowtowing to everyone in sight. In social sense, respect means recognition, care and positive action.

SOCIALLY SENSIBLE

A socially sensible person recognises herself or himself as a being that matters. Have you ever seen that cartoon poster with the caption, “I must be somebody ‘coz God don’t make no junk”? I first encountered it in the reception area of the chambers of my friend and counsel, Ms Lilian Wanjira, who is, incidentally, an old girl of the Moi Nairobi Girls School.

Anyway, that acceptance of yourself as “somebody” is the beginning of social sense. It is also what lies behind the emphasis laid on our backgrounds and genealogies in our indigenous societies. You are not just any Ali, Kamau or Okello. Rather, you will be identified as Okello wuod Opeto, Kamau wa Mungai or Ali bin Khamis bin Khalfan. This is also appended with your place of origin (like “ja Ramogi” or “Waruguru” — one from the west) which also become part of your identity.

You can also be further defined by your lineage or clan symbol, the totem, like “mwana wa mbogo”, child of the buffalo. There are also praise names, like the Luo pakruok or endearments, like the Kitara empaako. The late playwright John Ruganda’s empaako endearment was Araali. Mine is Amooti. You should see me gleam and glow when I am called by it.

SELF-AWARENESS

Anyway, all this inculcates a strong sense of self-awareness and concern for oneself and for all one’s neighbours. No one is an anonymous nobody or anybody, but a specific “So-and-so”, a descendant of someone, member of a significant lineage, from a historical place, and beloved and appreciated for his or her qualities, work and achievements.

This recognition inevitably engenders care, concern and a commitment to positive action. Since I am somebody, I have to live up to the respectable standards of behaviour expected of me. In our attitudes to one another and to the environments in which we live and work, we strive to maintain the same high standards of care, concern and responsibility, because everyone matters and every place matters.

But these sterling qualities of behaviour do not come automatically to human beings. They are the fruits of upbringing, education and example. I do not know the details of Yvonne’s or Mary’s family backgrounds. But I can bet that they did not come from the pampering families of the “Me-mine, give me, I want” brats, who never utter words like “please, excuse me, sorry or thank you”.

Nine-year old Yvonne Namaganda waited nine years in her grave before being recognised as a national hero. In the meantime, pushy politicians, guerrilla generals, go-getter tycoons, and even the Kalashnikovs of this world, were being showered with glittering medals, monuments and other honours. Let us hope 14-year old Mary Mokaya will not have to wait 14 years before being recognised as a true Kenyan heroine.

Do you realise Mashujaa Day is less than a month away? I think I know who to celebrate.

Prof Bukenya is a leading scholar of English and Literature in East Africa. [email protected]