Wake up. This one will pull you from sleep.
A person's good fortune in life comes from their mother's clan.
Not from noise. Not from pride. From the womb that carried you. From the clan that gave you your mother.
Your paternal clan does not contribute much to your good fortune. It only gives you a little support. It gives you a name. It gives you a surname. It gives you a place to be buried. That is good. Respect it. But do not confuse a name with a blessing.
The greatest blessings come from the Bukojja clan, where your mother was born.
As the Kifuuta Oracle says at his shrine in Kyotera, Buddu, in your own clan, it is your sisters' children who stand to receive the greatest blessings within that clan. This is because their greatest source of good fortune lies in their own Bukojja clan, where their mother was born.
Listen carefully. This is not a joke. This is ancient wisdom.
THE MOTHER IS THE PROOF
Look at Israel. Look at the Jews, the smartest, most surviving people on earth.
In Israel, a child is a Jew if his mother is a Jew. Not if his father is a Jew. The father can be a king, a professor, a rich man, but if the mother is not a Jew, the child is not counted as a Jew. Why? Because the mother is the proof. The father is a claim. The mother is a fact.
You can doubt a father. You can never doubt a mother. The child came from her body. Her blood entered his blood. Her clan entered his spirit. That is why Israel takes the mother's clan as the clan for the child.
It is the same in Kifuuta. It is the same in Buddu. It is the same in the whole of Buganda. Your mother is your first god. Your mother's clan is your first heaven.
Your father gave you a seed. Your mother gave you a garden. A seed without a garden dies. A garden without a seed still lives.
WHY YOUR SISTER'S CHILDREN ARE THE BLESSED ONES IN YOUR CLAN
Now hear this, and hear it well.
In your own clan, you are not the blessed one. Your sister's children are.
You are the Kojja. You are their mother's brother. You are the door through which their blessing comes. When they come to your clan, they do not come as visitors. They come as owners of fortune. They come to collect what their mother planted for them before they were born.
That is why, in Buganda, a Kojja can never be poor when his sister's children are rich, and a Kojja can never be rich if he curses his sister's children. The blessing moves through the sister. It moves through the womb. It moves through the blood of the mother.
Your own children will go and get their blessings from their mother's clan, from their Bukojja. Not from you. That is the law of the gods. That is the law of nature. That is the law of Israel. That is the law of Kifuuta.
So, if you are a man and you are proud that your clan is big, ask yourself: who is eating from your clan? It is your sister's children. And if you are a woman, know this: your children will never starve where your brothers are, because your brothers' clan is their Bukojja, their bank of blessings.
MY OWN BLOOD IS MY WITNESS: I AM NOT SPEAKING THEORY
Now let me tell you about myself, because I do not speak what I have not tasted.
My luck comes from Jjaajja Livingstone Naidoo and Deborah Nabirye.
My Jjaajja came from the Goans of India. Yes, Goa. The people of the sea. The people of spice. The people who crossed oceans with nothing in their hands but fire in their hearts. They survived storms. They survived colonisers. They survived hunger. They survived distance. And they carried luck like salt in their blood.
I have been showered in that Goa luck. It did not come from my father's side. It came from my mother's side. It came from Jjaajja Livingstone Naidoo. It came from Deborah Nabirye. Those women poured blessings on me before I knew what blessing was. Their blood is my shield. Their prayers are my roof. Their clan is my river that never dries.
That is why I stand in Kifuuta and I do not fear. That is why I speak and people listen. That is why I fall and I rise again. Because my Bukojja is not empty. My Bukojja is full of Goa fire and Deborah's grace.
Omujwa is the blessing of everything, yamala ebibamba. Yes, Omujwa. The blessing that finishes everything. When Omujwa touches you, your struggles finish. Your curses finish. Your dry season finishes. Your enemies get tired. Your doors open. Omujwa does not come from your father's name. Omujwa comes from your mother's womb. Omujwa is the mother's blessing that says, "My son, you will not suffer like others suffered." Yamala ebibamba; it has finished all the heavy things.
If you have Omujwa, you do not need to shout. You walk quietly, and things open for you. If you do not have Omujwa, you can shout all day and nothing moves. Go and look for your Omujwa in your Bukojja.
WHOEVER MARRIES MY DAUGHTERS WILL TAP FROM MY GOA LUCK
Hear me now, my sons-in-law to come. Hear me well.
Whoever marries my daughters will tap from my Goa luck, from the sea of India.
He will not just marry a girl. He will marry a lineage. He will marry hard work. He will marry balance of life. He will marry the sea that never dries. My daughters carry Jjaajja Livingstone Naidoo in their blood. They carry Deborah Nabirye in their spirit. They carry Goa in their veins.
My Jjaajja Livingstone Naidoo was one of the engineers of the Uganda Railway, from Kisumu to Namasagali, Mbulamiti, in 1918 and the 1920s. He was not a man of talk. He was a man of iron. He laid railway lines where others feared to walk. He crossed rivers. He crossed forests. He built with his hands what others only dreamed in their sleep. That is the blood in my daughters. Iron blood. Railway blood. Builder blood.
So, if you marry my daughter, you are not marrying poverty. You are tapping a pipe that was laid in 1918. You are tapping Goa luck. You are tapping hard work. You are tapping balance. You will eat from a table that was built by an engineer.
But respect it. Do not abuse it. Do not insult the source. If you honour my daughters, Goa will honour you. If you break my daughters, Goa will leave you.
IF YOU MARRY MY SONS, YOU WILL SWIM WITH ME IN LUCK
And you, my daughters-in-law to come, listen.
If you marry my sons, you will swim with me in luck from Jjaajja Livingstone Naidoo.
You will not swim in a small pond. You will swim in the sea of India. You will swim in Goa luck. You will swim in the hard work of an engineer who built a railway from Kisumu to Namasagali, Mbulamiti, in 1918 and the 1920s, when men died of malaria and lions, but he stood.
My sons carry that luck. They carry Omujwa. They carry balance of life. They do not run like headless chickens. They walk like engineers. They measure. They build. They finish.
Marry my son, and you marry into a river that never dries. You marry into Deborah Nabirye's prayers. You marry into Livingstone Naidoo's iron. You will swim, not drown. You will rise, not sink. Because my sons are not empty. They are full of Bukojja.
MARRY A WOMAN WHO HAS A STABLE SIDE; SHE BRINGS WITH HER LUCK
And listen to this, my sons. This is the secret of marriage that many men miss.
Marry a woman who has a stable side; she brings with her luck.
Not every woman brings luck. Some women bring storms. Some women bring noise. Some women bring a clan that is broken, a mother who curses, a Kojja who is bitter. That woman will carry that storm into your house.
But marry a woman who has a stable side, a woman whose mother is blessed, whose Bukojja is stable, whose Jjaajja prayed for her. That woman walks with luck on her back. When she enters your house, she does not enter alone. She enters with her mother's clan. She enters with her Omujwa. She enters with her Goa luck, with her Deborah luck, with her whole lineage behind her.
That is why a wise man does not just look at the beauty of a woman. He looks at her mother. He looks at her Jjaajja. He looks at her Bukojja. Is her side stable? Is her mother respected? Is her clan at peace? If yes, marry her, my son. She will bring luck that your own hard work alone could never bring.
Marry that woman. Stable side. Stable heart. Stable clan. She brings with her luck. She brings with her fortune. She does not eat your fortune. She multiplies it.
That is why I tell my sons: do not marry a face. Marry a Bukojja. Marry a stable side. Marry a woman with a stable side.
DO NOT INSULT YOUR BUKOJJA
This is where many people are sleeping.
Many people insult their mother's clan. They laugh at their Kojja. They say, "My maternal uncles are poor." They say, "My mother's people have nothing." They run after their father's clan and forget their mother's clan.
My son, my daughter, you are cutting the branch you are sitting on.
How can you insult the clan that gave you your mother? How can you despise the womb that gave you life? How can you abuse your Kojja and then expect good fortune to follow you? The gods will not bless a child who spits on his mother's clan.
If your Bukojja is poor today, go and lift it. If your Kojja is down, go and raise him. If your mother's clan is crying, go and wipe its tears. Because when you lift your Bukojja, you lift your own destiny. When you curse your Bukojja, you curse your own children.
Look at the Akan people of Ghana. Look at the Minangkabau of Indonesia. Look at the Jews of Israel. They all know this secret. They protect the mother's line like they protect gold. That is why they survive wars, exile and poverty. Because a father's kingdom can fall. But a mother's blood can never be taken.
THE CALL
So, I tell you today, from the shrine of Kifuuta in Kyotera, Buddu: go and honour your mother.
Honour your Bukojja. Call your Kojja. Take a gift to your mother's clan, even if it is small. Sit on the ground with them. Eat with them. Ask for their blessing. A blessing from your Kojja is heavier than a blessing from a thousand pastors.
And you, my sisters Nantale, Batengeke, Nairima and Nawozantya, know your power. You are the carriers of fortune. Your children will be blessed not because of where they are born, but because of where YOU were born. Your womb is a bridge. Your clan is their fortune.
Your paternal clan gives you a little support. Your Bukojja gives you life.
Wake up. Go back to your mother's clan, Nambi. Your fortune is waiting for you there. Your Omujwa is waiting for you there. Yamala ebibamba.
