A workers prayer


My eyes are sore. My head ‘spins’ all the time. I am weak and weary and always walk like drunken men after a night drinking spree.
You see, I toil day and night and all I get is a miserly monthly salary. Many a night I go without supper for I have to ‘save’ for tomorrow.
My kids go to the worst schools in the land as I can never afford the high fees charged by better schools. I have no one to turn to as my government, the leaders we chose to defend our interests, care not what I go through. I think that’s why they don’t want to pass the minimum wage law. Whenever I raise my voice, they hit me on the head, saying I should wait for the coming financial year that never comes. Country men and women, what must me do? I don’t have enough money to join the class of the privileged; those lucky enough to set their own salaries – the MPs.
As I saunter home this evening, I know not what my family will eat despite it being Christmas. I say, hear me you my prayers! Let me live as a respected civil servant not a pauper.
I rest my case.

Popular posts from this blog

Storm hangs over Uganda’s biggest wolfram mine

Committee chair calls for oil revenue civil society oversight body

Government lawyers in East Africa to sharpen oil and gas negotiation and policy-making skills