“I always count my blessings more than I count my money. I don't work for money. Never did. It was the art.”
Dolly Parton, who died Tuesday at the age of 80, reflected on her life and decades-long career in a 2019 interview with @tonydokoupil for @CBSSunday: “I love the work, and I've done it well. I'm thankful for it.”
1959.
Mbarara, Ankole.
The main street unfolds, dusty and active, lined with Indian duukas whose owners had arrived during early British rule.
These shops, stocked with textiles, oil, sugar, and salt, had become the commercial backbone of the region.
The camera lingers, catching a larger shift: the quiet movement from subsistence to cash.
By 1959, Mbarara had become a permanent market town where goods from the coast arrived by lorry and money changed hands daily.
The first bank, Barclays, had opened that same year.
The growing Banyankore middle class had adopted new habits: buying food from markets, purchasing manufactured goods, sending children to school with fees earned from wages or cattle.
For most African shoppers, the simple things, canned food, cooking utensils, fuel for stoves and lamps, had become necessities.
One figure stands out: the green grocer, a local businessman, and beside him his teenage son.
This boy, born into the late colonial years, represents a generation shaped by mission education and British influence.
He is a regular customer at the Uganda bookshop, aware of contemporary events worldwide thanks to the newspapers and periodicals available inside.
Here was a Muyankole teenager in a small Ugandan town who could quote Shakespeare.
His presence embodies the cultural penetration of colonialism.
The town itself stood as physical testament to transformation.
The British had established a colonial post at Mbarara around 1901, archives recording it as the Fort Portal Road Station.
By 1959, that station had grown into a district headquarters with offices, courts, and police posts.
Fifty years of colonial rule had irrevocably changed Ankole.
Business, even small-scale industry such as bicycle repair, was attracting the younger people.
Mbarara presented to the Banyankole the material delights of the outside world.
Mbarara's main street, with its Indian duukas and African customers, its green grocer and Shakespeare-quoting son, was where that change became visible.
The clerk in town might now buy his matoke rather than grow it.
The younger generation was adopting a cash economy.
The traditional bartering of labour for chickens was giving way to monetary transactions.
This was the quiet, unspectacular revolution of daily life, where the winds of change were felt not in political speeches, but in the simple act of purchasing sugar from an Indian duuka or sending a child to a mission school.
The future was arriving in Mbarara, one transaction at a time.
What does it mean when a boy in a small Ugandan town can quote Shakespeare to the very Europeans who once considered his people anachronistic, while his father sells vegetables in a market that now trades in imported cloth?
The winds of change were not dramatic.
They were quiet, a bank opening, a newspaper read, a bicycle repaired.
Mbarara was becoming a place where two worlds met, and the people negotiating that meeting were already building the future.
The camera caught them at the threshold.
They did not look back.
#ughistory #Ankole
I think the British arms dealer's real end game was to make money off Besigye as a dealer turned informant.
A quite similar story with the assassination plot on Togo's president in the late 1970s. Sometimes being a "Snitch" is profitable.
1959.
Ankole, Uganda.
An American social scientist arrived with a Bolex camera.
He was not a filmmaker but a psychologist from Columbia University.
Marshall Segall had come to capture ordinary Banyankore in the final years of British rule.
The result was Gentle Winds of Change.
Segall's lens turned first to the countryside, where he found a society long distinguished between cattle-keeping Bahima and cultivating Bairu.
By 1959, these were not merely economic categories.
Decades of indirect rule had hardened them into something more, a hierarchy the British had institutionalised, translating livelihood into status.
The camera does not explain any of this.
It simply shows a Bahima herdsman moving with his long-horned cattle, a Bairu woman working her plantain garden.
For the Ugandan viewer, the images carry what words cannot: the quiet weight of a system that had shaped generations.
From the hills, the film moves to Mbarara town, the administrative heart of Ankole under colonial rule.
Here stood the district headquarters where taxation, courts, and politics converged.
By 1959, constitutional reforms were underway across Uganda, and Mbarara had become a space where local elites and British administrators negotiated the shape of future governance.
Segall's camera captures African clerks in government offices, Indian traders in their shopfronts, and the roads that connected this cattle town to Kampala and the wider country beginning to open.
Economically, Mbarara was the engine of the region, a thriving centre of the cattle trade and a transport hub to the southwest.
Socially, its mission schools were producing a new educated class:
Banyankore who would soon fill the ranks of the post-independence civil service.
The film, however, did more than document visible change; it sought to understand the psychological and social conflicts it generated.
Segall, a psychologist by training, was interested in the "socio-psychological" impact of acculturation.
His research in Ankole, which included a study of 68 adult Banyankore males, aimed to understand how Africans were adapting to the demands of a modernising world.
The film thus becomes a window into the tensions of this transition, contrasting the lives of the "politically-conscious urban African" with the "rural herdsman or subsistence farmer."
Scenes of a traditional wedding and the brewing of plantain beer are not mere curiosities; they are practices undergoing change.
The film asks why modern Africans behave differently and what their new demands are, unknowingly capturing the making of modern Uganda.
The film was not without controversy.
When shown to a group of visiting African women in the United States, it provoked an "explosive response."
They resented what they saw as its "subtle inferences that Africa was becoming Europeanized but was still backward."
Despite this, the film offered a valuable corrective to the stereotype of the "Dark Continent," substituting the reality of social change for "wild beasts, gyrating dancers and steaming jungles."
It stressed the diversity of the continent and its people.
Gentle Winds of Change is a quiet testament to a people at the edge of independence, still rooted in their landscapes and livelihoods, about to become citizens of a new nation.
Segall's film captured the Banyankore at a threshold, and his images endure as a reminder that the winds of change, while gentle, were blowing unmistakably.
#ughistory #Ankole
Dr. John Garang de Mabior: The Visionary of South Sudan.
He Led the Sudan People’s Liberation Army (SPLA) from 1983. He spearheaded a 22-year struggle for a reformed, inclusive "New Sudan. He masterminded the landmark January 2005 Comprehensive Peace Agreement (CPA). He was sworn in as First Vice President of Sudan on July 9, 2005. He was a highly educated developmental economist with a PhD from Iowa State University.
Tragically, he died in a helicopter crash on July 30, 2005, just three weeks into office.
His foundational groundwork directly paved the path to South Sudan's 2011 independence.
Tupac Shakur’s mother once read him a newspaper article about a young girl who had disappeared in a public-housing building in Brooklyn.
The girl was only a child, and after being left alone for a short time, she reportedly disappeared down a trash chute. The case became terrifying because no one knew where she had gone.
Years later, Tupac had become successful and was working closely with his associate manager, Leila Steinberg. According to the story in the video, Tupac decided to use his connections to help find the missing girl and discover what had happened to her.
The search eventually led to an incredible discovery: the girl had survived and had later been adopted. She was alive and living in Newark, New Jersey.
Tupac’s team made contact, and after all those years, the girl was reunited with her family. The video describes it as one of the most unbelievable stories connected to Tupac’s life — a story that showed a side of him beyond the music, fame, and controversy.
The emotional ending came when Tupac helped make the reunion possible, proving that sometimes the biggest impact a person makes is not on a stage, but in someone else’s life.
It's now over ten years since, the Internatonal Consortium of Investigative Journalists (ICIJ) released the Panama Papers that turned the world on its head.
For Uganda, the papers revealed how Heritage Oil used Mossack Fonseca - the Crimial Law Firm at the centre of the leaks - to avoid paying $ 400 million dollars in taxes. Uganda, partly thanks to the leak, later won the case against Heritage Oil. If only our leaders keep this fact that impartial, fearless, investigative journalism helps us all when in need!
Anyway, this new documentary from Penguin History - from which I got the video below about Uganda - revisits the Panama Papers scandal. How it started, what it was, and how it shook the world.
Find the full documentary here: https://t.co/IDTAiQxp1U
Iran’s Supreme Leader Mojtaba Khamenei in FIRST-TIME-SEEN footage
Released publicly for the first time by Iranian media, footage shows him presiding over a religious academic study session
Western powers often speak of partnership, yet their history and present actions reveal a pattern of exploitation. The African child must be taught to recognize this deceit and build a future on true independence.