Thoughts on Henry Barlow's Poem -- Building The Nation

The Poem

Today I did my share in building the nation.
I drove a Permanent Secretary to an
important, urgent function
In fact, to a luncheon at the Vic.
The menu reflected its importance
Cold bell beer with small talk,
Then fried chicken with niceties
Wine to fill the hollowness of the laughs
Ice-cream to cover the stereotype jokes
Coffee to keep the PS awake on the return journey
I drove the Permanent Secretary back.
He yawned many times in the back of the car
Then to keep awake, he suddenly asked,
Did you have any lunch friend?
I replied looking straight ahead
And secretly smiling at his belated concern
That I had not, but was slimming!
Upon which he said with a seriousness
Which amused more than annoyed me,
Mwanachi, I too had none!
I attended to matters of state.
Highly delicate diplomatic duties you know,
And friend, it goes against my grain,
Causes me stomach ulcers and wind,
Ah, he continued, yawning again,
The pains we suffer in building the nation!
So the PS had ulcers too!
My ulcers I think are equally painful
Only they are caused by hunger
Not sumptuous lunches!
So two nation builders
Arrived home this evening
With terrible stomach pains
The result of building the nation – in different ways”

MY THOUGHTS

At first glance the poem may appear like a nicely written story but upon careful perusal, the dramatically ironic form of the poem is unveiled. The poem bothers on the two major strands of the African society: the proletariat and the bourgeoisie. What we realize is that the bourgeoisie is voted into office to serve the needs of the people but they tend to conveniently, ideally and simply replace the colonizer, dabbling into the same evils of the colonizer.
This poem is premised on the theme of disillusionment in which the persona being the driver is disillusioned with the actions of the Permanent Secretary. The driver serves as a colossal symbolism of the working class whereas the PS serves as an ideal representation of the elite class, thus those who are charged with spearheading the affairs of the state.
The poem begins with the PS attending a meeting which previously had been publicized as an important meeting where matters of stately importance would be perused. Instead we realize that the PS is driven to a luncheon at the Vic, where he meets with other bourgeois to have lunch.
The persona amplifies his state of disillusionment by itemizing, in detail, the nitty-gritty of the so-called urgent meeting. We realize that it isn’t an urgent meeting for matters of the state to be discussed, rather it is an urgent meeting for the PS and his cohorts to attend to matters of the stomach. This is very exemplary of African leaders who simply take over the reins of the people and simply thrust the people’s needs to the periphery of human thought, while tending to their needs with great alacrity. As can be seen from the poem, the PS doesn’t take a second to think about the needs of the driver. He doesn’t have the humanity to package some of the food for the driver because as an emblem of African leaders today, they simply do not care if the people who work their bones off, get what they deserve or not.
After having taken coffee to stay awake upon the return journey, the PS still engages the driver in a conversation just to stay soberly awake. There is an infinitesimal hint of how important the African proletariat is to the bourgeoisie because after having taken the coffee, the PS should stay awake, however he still seeks the driver’s conversation so as to keep awake.
In furtherance, we realize from the poem that the PS sarcastically asks if the driver ate anything. The PS been cognizant of the fact that the driver wasn’t invited to the “important function” shouldn’t have asked if he ate anything. However as a show of mockery and how unimportant he considers the driver, he goes on to ask him anyway. This is very common of most African leaders who consider the people at the root level as unimportant people whose contribution to the state is very minute- a dramatic fallacy!
After further chattering, we realize that the PS contracts ulcers which are caused by sumptuous lunches unlike the driver’s ulcers, which are caused by hunger. So the driver and the Permanent Secretary both representing the working class and the elite class, contribute towards nation building – in different ways: the former works their bones off, whereas the latter conveniently squanders the state’s resources.
The national cake should mutually and equally be shared between the proletariat and the bourgeoisie but a monotony is established where one the superior faction gets the chunk of the cake. Been disillusioned with the PS’s activities, there is a hint of the persona charging the African proletariat to rise up against the injustice they face from the ruling class. We realize that in most African countries, the leaders simply forget about those who voted them into office and take a shine to their individual interests. This is what the persona ascribes to the people, to stand up against.
In conclusion, this revealing poem by Ugandan poet, Christopher Henry Muwanga Barlow, is premised entirely on sarcasm, to unveil the evils of the ruling class which had been concealed from the people and also steer their minds towards ending the far reaching consequences of the ruler’s actions and omissions.

THANKS FOR THE READ!
PICTURE TAKEN FROM PIXABAY