crossroads when we moved here, and is now a rapidly growing and
organizing town council in need of a mayor. There were a half-dozen
contenders, but the top two were a relative of our member of
parliament (think, insider, lots of clan pressure to keep the money in
the family) versus the local businessman who originally hails from a
neighboring country and a minority religion. Since the latter is
perceived to be a bit lighter-skinned and a relative outsider (in
spite of decades of residence) he ran under the nickname, Obama.
Really. People connect him with Obama, and he's been quite popular.
People respect his business skills and hope he'll be less under
pressure from local interests. Initial returns had him in the lead by
a 2 to 1 margin, and people began to celebrate. But the news of the
morning was that the other man won by 73 votes (in a city of
20,000 . . but maybe only a thousand voted, not sure). And the gossip
on the street was that the parliament-connected politician was paying
about 2 dollars per vote. So Obama and his supporters zipped off to
Fort Portal to protest. I believe the political process probably has
the greatest potential for good, or evil, than any other grouping of
people here. So we pray for clarity and justice.
In the meantime I arrived this morning to learn that Nuela had taken a
sudden turn for the worse around midnight last night, and died. I
would like to picture her now in the rich brocade robes and nose-
diamond-stud of Ezekiel's story, a beloved young woman of grace and
wholeness. I would have liked to say goodbye to her grandfather, whom
I may not see again. Very sad.