Uganda: ”Let’s make love, not rape”

Stella Nyanzi. Foto från hennes Facebook-sida.

2019 fängslades den ugandiske forskaren Stella Nyanzi sedan hon i en dikt utmanat den sittande presidenten Museveni. I sin senaste dikt fortsätter hon att utmana makten: ”Blow between my big breasts your warm breath that smells as foul as the choking tear gas unleashed freely upon enthusiastic opposition actors”. Och nu ställer hon också upp i parlamentsvalet.

2019 sedan fängslades den frispråkige ugandiske feministen, aktivisten och forskaren Stelly Nyanzi i Uganda efter att hon åtalas för att ha förtalat den sittande presidenten Museveni i en dikt i samband med härskarens 74-årsdag. I dikten som publicerades på Facebook skrev hon bland annat:

I wish the poisoned uterus sitting just above Esiteri’s dry clitoris had prematurely miscarried a thing to be cast upon a manure pit.
Prematurely miscarried just like you prematurely aborted any semblance of democracy, good governance and rule of law.

Stella Nyanzi, som är medicinsk antropol och queer-aktivist, är känd för sin frispråkiga – en del skulle kanske säga vulgära – stil. I ett tidigare uppmärksammat Facebook-inlägg kallade hon presidenten ”a pair of buttocks” hon skrev:

Museveni matako nyo! Ebyo byeyayogedde e Masindi yabadde ayogera lutako. 
I mean, seriously, when buttocks shake and jiggle, while the legs are walking, do you hear other body parts complaining? When buttocks produce shit, while the brain is thinking, is anyone shocked? When buttocks fart, are we surprised? 
That is what buttocks do. They shake, jiggle, shit and fart. Museveni is just another pair of buttocks. Rather than being shocked by what the matako said in Masindi, Ugandans should be shocked that we allowed these buttocks to continue leading our country. Matako butako.

Nu ställer hon upp som kandidat i det ugandiska parlamentsvalet under kampanjbudskapet #FromPrison2Parliament. I en intervju med Thomson Reuters Foundation säger hon att kvinnors rättigheter är viktiga, men vi kan aldrig uppnå dem så länge patriarkatet sitter vid makten.

Men det som framför allt lär orsaka rabalder är hennes senaste dikt, med titeln ” A poem of Love for Son of Kaguta som förstås handlar om president Museveni (Kaguta är namnet på hans styvfar).

Let’s make love, Son of Kaguta, not rape!
Take off your K95 facial mask; I was tested two nights ago for Corona at your exclusive expensive laboratories.

Kiss me tenderly with your lying lips dripping fast with empty promises that impress the gullible.
Blow between my big breasts your warm breath that smells as foul as the choking tear gas unleashed freely upon enthusiastic opposition actors.

Aaaaaayyyyiiiiii, Son of Kaguta, your bed of lovemaking is as cosy as a bloody battlefield.
Gently massage me with clean bank notes plundered out of money to fight COVID19. 
I am tired of old bank notes stolen from older vaccines, valley dams and other what-what-nots.

Finger me with your chubby digits that press computer keys unlocking Israeli algorithms for rigging the coming presidential election. 
Turn me on with gruesome stories of your torture chambers pseudonymed “safe houses” in which detained Ugandans rot away.

Mmmmm, rub me softly with gun butts, batons, kibokos, bayonets, grenades and AK47s.
Penetrate me with your military might and ravage me just like you torment Uganda.

Brutalise me as harshly as your SFC brutes brutalised the Parliament of Uganda.
Break me just like you broke the bodies of Betty Nambooze and Francis Zaake, oh Son of Kaguta.

Instead of shooting to kill innocent citizens,
Give me babies with your octogenarian semen.
Oh yes, my big Daddy-Jajja, secure my future
With huge holes torn into the constitution.

Aaaaaaaaah, there’s no other love like your love, oh mighty Son of Kaguta!

Wipe the kisses off my pouting lips with your underwear made from the national flag drenched in blood – fresh and old.
Open your stuffy bedroom to let out the scent of rotting corpses of rioters shot with bullets as they repeatedly chanted “People Power!”

That scent of traumatised Uganda mixes badly with smells of our sex, oh Son of Kaguta.




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