I really don't like you...

Last night was Doc Lounge’s showing of Call Me Kuchu, a film about the Ugandan LGBTI rights activist David Kato, who lost his life for the cause.

Chilling, not only because I was aware of his fate before I watched the film, but because of a particular personality Giles Muhame who, to me, epitomises this comfortable middle class unquestioning of certain “truths” that I have complained about.

I find it interesting that a 22 year old can be so rigid about his beliefs. Even in the wake of Kato’s death, he refused to acknowledge his role in the misery and death of an individual. A quick Google search revealed an interesting article about him by Melanie Nathan. 

I’ve long thought that people like him while occupying a tiny space in the world that they call home, can never visualise themselves wanting more. When he so virulently pursued an anti-gay agenda did he ever imagine that one day he might need the help, the association, the friendship of an LGBTI person or those that sympathise with them? Didn’t he think that in the process of outing people he might encounter a friend, a family member or even a future employer? What about future university studies or what about when Uganda becomes a place that no longer tolerates that kind of journalism?

Though the Rolling Stone is closed he now publishes a newspaper and website (that I won’t name here) that apparently gets close to two million page views a month. Lucky man. Still, I hope that one day karma comes back to bite him on the bum.

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