I have a fervent recollection of the euphoria that beat at the chest of the country when UDC was conceived, the real ‘Peoples Project’ ÔÇô a vehicle that carried the aspirations and interests of Batswana, a cornucopia of plenty. The vehicle arrived timely when BNF was reeling from the inner turmoil that had besieged it during Cde Moupo’s time and suspicion was rife that the stronger and more stable BCP was going to subjugate, assimilate or annihilate it. Yes, it arrived at a time when BMD was at its infancy and struggling to find its feet and assert itself in the political space of the country. It was a time when BPP was degenerating into a relic that could only be mentioned parochially in the North-East and in history books.
The delicate fragile BNF, the infantile BMD and the frail BPP, commonly cognizant of their individual weaknesses and in humbled mien, derived strength and warmth from each other’s presence to achieve what geometrically transcended the arithmetic sum of their isolated abilities ÔÇô all for the benefit of Batswana. They understood that like straws of grass when bound together, they could surpass the breaking point of steel. They had one spirit, one label, adorned one colour, and chanted one slogan.
Beguiled by their perceived stability and supple maturity, BCP decided to go it alone, perhaps fearing the dire consequence of associating with the weak or may be just a desire for self preservation ÔÇô the cobweb that entangles the mighty. What was supposed to be their backbone then became the underbelly that saw them tumbling down in 2014. Perhaps I should also record the fact that apart from the greater good of serving Batswana by instilling a sense of hope in them, there was a noticeable by-product of individual growth and strength among the contracting members. While that should have been perceived commendable, it had a flip side. Individual strength arose the nostalgia of the self, the pride of each contracting member and the affinity to self preserve. Humbleness was eroded by arrogance. Apportioning blame became the game, finger-pointing grew woefully disappointing ÔÇô there was lack of focus on what was wrong but rather, on who was wrong.
But, you see, that’s the problem! I am walking on a path that all of us prefer ÔÇô so far I have gone so many lines and paragraphs and yet, nowhere do I want to acknowledge the invaluable contribution made by the conveners of the UDC. The men who were the glue that held together all the pieces that comprised UDC. They were the blacksmiths who hammered UDC into existence, gave it the wheels and constantly oiled its parts until the day they were thrown off the window of the moving train with reckless disregard. They brought sanity and balance where objectivity could have been simply clouded by sanguine self-preservation and the natural instinct of dominance. In the metaphysical, they carried an anointing that not only agglutinated the UDC but also, drew Batswana to the same. The day they got hawked like cough was the day the anointing was removed. My point is, the individual growth that was supposed to be commendable made the conveners expendable. The length and breadth of it is, when constituent members were weak, UDC was strong and when they became strong, UDC died!
Can you call it a house when the wall is just a pile of bricks without mortar? Anyone who would want to answer in the affirmative at best, suffers from inconsistency of logic. Mortar, is what the conveners were – not only did they represent Batswana, they also represented God’s intervening hand. God departed when with dispeakable ungratefulness, they were dumped by those levitating in their bubbles thinking they have the keys to gravitational force. There have been some crusades of inflation and exaltation where individuals who just joined the band-wagon driven by those men were made to look like progenitors of the concept. How long are the legs of a lie?
Truth be told, rat poison in an aluminum foil is still poison. Batswana do not deserve to be sold an exterminator veiled in platitudinous rhetoric. There couldn’t be a worse time than now – when Batswana’s hopes were so high and the BDP dealt them such a raw deal, a time when the standard and quality of life induce so much sorrow and the national coffers bleed profusely and that is perpetrated with impunity.
There have been varying tones directed to the AP, some requesting it to consider joining ‘UDC’. Some prophesying doom upon AP that they will suffer the same consequence as BCP back in 2014. That naturally plunges one in confusion ÔÇô but, where is UDC? I don’t mean the label that easily pops out of the mouth, I don’t mean the color blue that momentarily relieves yellow, green and orange on certain occasions. I mean the entity with a heart-beat. Just where is it? You see, there is nothing like ‘abusive marriage’. Its just a baseless social construct. If it aint marriage it aint ÔÇô no need to qualify! Marriage is not a certificate, it is a physical union of metaphysically merged spirits. When spirits dissociate the physical also wrangle to break free ÔÇô landing a few punches in the process. It is better to admit solitude than feign companionship.
Denial is insidious!
