Olive also known as Oleebranch started it and i picked up better on Dilman‘s Part IIB to continue on the #Ugblogweek stories.

“Ssebo, ssebo…” I muttered out hoping to catch the attention of the policeman. I was sure he did not want to deal with another ‘rasta’ man because it was easier to just hold me for a few hours and let me go hoping I would learn my lesson since I was looked young and lost and probably needed to find my ‘wife’-Olive.

“I don’t know why you want to sleep in a cell tonight.” Uttered the policeman with lots of disgust in his voice. “Just accept the child and be done with it and hopefully in the morning you will live with the consequence of having a child at a young age.” I couldn’t believe this man, how would he think that a man like me would do such a thing to a baby? Let alone this baby that was now snuggled in my arms and making me think about all the wonderful things I would do when I am a father.

Officer…” I pleaded. I have no idea but when you call a policeman officer, it seems to give him lots of respect among the words you utter and thus easier for you to start convincing him about your wrongs, but in this case, a case of my mistaken identity. “I would like to categorically state that I am not the father of this child. If I could put this child down for a minute, make a few phone calls to find the mother, I would be glad.” The officer burst out laughing and called his friends into the room. “Can you imagine this man wants to leave the baby here and run away?” This came to me as a shock. I did not know what to do, or how better to convince these dumb fools that I was innocent.

While I was still hoping for some divine intervention, the boss that had given the order for me to be cuffed and thrown in the back of the car walked in. I felt like I would reason with him much better and hope to get some help. It had clocked 11pm, my phone battery had made the shut down sound and I realized all that I was going to do wasn’t happening today. I had to find Olive, I had to find the woman, I had to find someone to rescue me from this baby. I wasn’t a good Samaritan, I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, given the wrong baby by the wrong person.

“Mukulu officer…” I whispered out as I walked towards him. “Speak louder!” he belted out and he walked towards the inner door. “Mister Officer, I really need to talk to you…” and out of fright I cleared my throat incase he would shout at me. But he turned to me and said, “talk to the OC, she will be able to help you out.” For some reason this gave me more that a fright! First I am being accused of throwing a baby away and now I am going to face that beautiful lady in a uniform I had been glancing at hoping to get some sort of sympathy from as I continued to haggle my way out of the police station.

Well, I am done for so I might as well just state my case and then prepare for the night in another police cell in Uganda. I started to think about how much money I had and whom I would bribe in the cell to get the baby comfortable sleeping positions and me. I thought about the fact that this child needs milk, and food… I also need food, but which of these officers should I bribe in order to get what I need? I had only sixty thousand shillings and I knew I needed five thousand shillings to buy airtime the next morning in order for some one to come pick me up, find Olive and probably also help me get home.

“Come in sir!” It felt like a command and I was sure that even my so ever weakened knees could not take it. I was willing to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help me God. “God!” I started a prayer. “If you are really out there, may I have some sort of mercy with this lady and get to be treated well the rest of this night. Amen!” The walk to her office felt like a walk down to the principle’s office with drunkards who had been picked up for kawunyemu (DUI), thieves and more seated staring at me looking like, “tonight, you fool, you are going to learn a real lesson.”

The baby woke up as I walked into the office of the OC and I was ready to hand the baby over when I remembered to rock the baby back and forth to get him to sleep. “Madam…” And just before I could finish the sentence, a loud noise interrupted us! People shouting omubbi (which means thief), to others hurling insults. I looked up and saw Olive, she looked like she had been in a fight and I was glad to see the other lady she could not let go of. When she saw me she shouted, “Where is the baby?”


If you know the rest of the story, please feel free to complete it!