If you’ve been paying attention to the news lately, you’ve probably picked up on the fact that several countries are not very happy with each other at the moment. I was a little like you till recently, you know, feeling semi-perplexed, not entirely clear on the details, offering an opinion knowing full well I am not clued in on how these things work.

Then the latest war hit close to home.

In short, two countries, one considered a big deal by, well, movies, the other by the Bible back in the day, decided they were not keen on a third and figured they would do something about it.

Destruction reigns, lives are lost, and it is just really, really messy. Onlookers surmise, theorise, turn political analysts overnight, and life kinda-sorta goes on. For good measure, the experts shake their fists and throw in a few “Can you imagine?” and “World War 3” references.

Then, unexpectedly, the country being attacked decides, nope, I am not doing this on my own, and proceeds to rain havoc all around. Neighbours are dragged in. You are “neighbours.”

And this shit is serious. It is not as light as suddenly finding yourself in a wedding contributions WhatsApp group. Or your friend dragging you into their beef. Actually, no, it is a little like that, except this time there are loud bangs here, some vibrations there and, if you are unfortunate, debris.

Thankfully, the explosions are few and far between, because there was the foresight to invest in equipment to defend the nation you are in.

Which makes it easier to take calls from concerned friends and family, or respond to messages asking about your well-being, because you genuinely believe it really is not that bad.

Yes, unexpected alerts are going off on your phone louder than any bloody alarm you will ever set, more effective too, but you take solace in the knowledge it is under control.

The thing is, in the face of all this, your thoughts drift, and you wonder how this would play out if you were back home and something like this happened.

Reels would fill inboxes, if the internet was not shut off by the government. And of course it goes without saying you would see the same memes over and over and likely be more upset about that than the state of security.

A tabloid would co-opt the word “interceptor” and find a way to make it sound vulgar. Bold headlines would declare, “Interceptor Blocks Hyena’s Advances.” Somehow, I doubt it would be used positively ANYWHERE.

Wait, no. That is not entirely true. A family planning brand would go all in and introduce “Interceptor” condoms – Ultimate protection against the unexpected.

Not too long after, an energy drink would sue. “We had the idea first. We did not have a rationale and sure, the condom makes sense, but marketing was sitting on the campaign for our new drink.”

Let’s not go into how random vehicles would be called interceptors because, why not.

We would also likely hear tales of how an area fell prey to an attack because the person with the key to the interceptor room was not around. Or we did not have electricity to power the damn things.

Or there was no network, so we could not quite locate the drone.

We are an enterprising lot, so someone would likely devise a way to protect the people. Mululuza. Covidex.

An impressive solution would see guys selling iron sheets that are attack-resistant.

The thing about this is, while there would be an aura of collective concern, it would not be as easy to self-placate as it was during the pandemic with random concoctions and medical combinations. No, really; Mululuza, Covidex, boiled mango peels.

Or by simply washing our hands or using sanitiser. This is not the Maji Maji rebellion.

This is not to suggest we would have backward solutions to this dilemma. We would probably also try to leave the country. We would not call them repatriation flights because, how exactly?

Assuming you managed to beat the jam and got to the airport, Air Uganda would have this one shot at redemption, and you know they would fumble that too. Through no fault of theirs, by the way, but because someone somewhere would have borrowed a plane, firmly putting themselves first.

Totally unrelated. I am not sure whether our influencers would take to the socials to reassure us, but generally speaking, someone would tout our might quite a bit.

But let’s come back to the current reality.

Here.

Away from home.

The situation is being handled. If I had a shot of something potent for every explosion I have witnessed nearby, I would still be sober.

So yes, I am safe. Thanks for checking on me. Like you, I AM praying this thing goes away soon.

I do not know if there are any bunkers nearby, but I have not considered that yet.

Not while I still have my pineapple peels, ginger and chili.