The Odds

In any hopeless cause, there is always the illusion of hope. The promise of a likely better future. If only you try hard enough. If you just work at it. Keep banging your head against the wall and it shall be yours.(Off the record) These are often mere concoctions of the mind. A defense to the futility of one’s efforts. This tirade of course is in one way or the other related to The Centre.

I blame it on our parents you know. High expectations placed on our young shoulders . . . become a lawyer . . . become an advocate . . . solve world hunger . . .  convince Mzee (an affectionate way to refer to the Ugandan Supreme leader) to retire . . .  pass the LDC Pre-entry examination. The impracticability of their expectations borders ridiculous, nay is ludicrous.

The said Pre-Entry Examination is the vacuum with which The Centre sucks out all hope and joy. An insatiable alter upon which the lawyers dump their dreams and self-worth. When used in a conversation, this is how it goes

Self-respecting person: So. . . I heard that you sat for the Pre-entry exam. How . . . (sniggering) was it?

Lawyer: Well, to put it mildly  . . . (strolls into oncoming traffic)

I lie. The stroll only occurs after the results arrive. Good or bad, the results inspire this reaction in one and all. Except those that have come to their senses and have opted out of the whole charade . . . regained their senses . . . fought and won against the slave trade that is The Centre.

To be fair, what amounts to good news from Pre-entry has yet to be appropriately coined. Those that gain wisdom while waiting for the results (not to be confused with those that commit suicide while waiting-King Solomon has nothing on them) often surmise that failing the exam is the good news.

Alas there are the fools that rush to get their admission forms. These bring to life Einstein’s words “Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the universe.” They cannot be blamed for their folly. After all, hope is the last of flames to be extinguished. Long after logic and reality have retired bowed out.

But even I cannot flaw their reasoning. Or should I say my reasoning. I am propounding a theory. The Centre remains today; aside from the callousness of advocates and their desire to see suffering done onto others; because it churns out advocates on a yearly basis. Converts I would say. People that have found an out. Those that have paid the ultimate price and sold their souls.

Hollywood has made light of these poor souls but the vampires and zombies that do leave The Centre return to the world seeking more sacrifices for their Master. My theory thus is that the odds aren’t completely hopeless. It’s just not the kind of hope perceived. Can a stalemate be achieved? Do the vampires and zombies ever become human again? Will Mzee retire? What is the meaning of life? Probably the last is the simplest to answer.

It all comes down to the odds. 

May they forever be in my favour.

The Centre

Legend tells of a not so mythical place in the bowels of a dusty, one bit, no horse town called Kampala, of a place so treacherous, so vile and degrading it sucks the joy out of anyone that goes there. Much like procrastination, this place is a thief of time, nay, a murderer of it. The learned have daubed it "The Centre" and speak of it in hushed tones. Those that do not know of its true nature refer to it simply as the Law Development Centre.

Established in the early seventies, it remains the last visage of torture enacted by the late President for Life, Field Marshal Alhaji Dr. Idi Amin Dada, VC, DSO, MC, CBE. It fronts itself as a respectable institution to which lawyers go to study for and sit the bar exam before becoming fully fledged advocates of the High Court and subordinate courts there under.

It's true purpose is however far more sinister. Some would have you believe that any collection of lawyers is a bad sign. And this place takes a lump-some every year and purports to churn out advocates on the other end. The oness that make it out are usually scared for life. Not quite PTSD but close enough. And then there are the victims. Piles upon piles of failed lawyers, now unable to fend for themselves because the Centre did not deem them worthy.

Ample warning is often given to the martyrs before they offer themselves to the beast as fodder, usually by way of a Pre-Entry examination. It is a four hour long paper for which 50% is guaranteed to grant you access to your doom should you be foolhardy enough to sit it. The grueling exercise is only made worse by the wait for results which are usually received with mixed awe. 3/4's of the applicants are spared this fate. 

I was not. And thus begins the path of enlightenment. I shall chronicle my adventure through this torturous land for the next year. In dismal hope of bringing enlightenment to those that still wish to tread where Angels fear to go. The very concept of God is lost in this place. The rewards are of course substantial but the path is wrought with tears and betrayal. All the makings of a good telenovela.

I volunteer as tribute. And may the odds be forever in my favour.