Col Ndahura Atwooki Birakurataki. He joined the Uganda Police Force in 1979. PHOTO/COURTESY OF ANDREW BAGALA
From growing up in a polygamous family to joining the Uganda Police Force under a cloud of mystery right through to having accusations of failure to protect war material slapped against him, Col (Rtd) Ndahura Atwooki Birakurataki’s story in all its richness, emotional highs and lows, reads like a script of a Hollywood thriller. In the first instalment of a four-part series, Andrew Bagala establishes how Col Ndahura ended up joining the National Resistance Army or NRA rebels.
For Ndahura Atwooki Birakurataki, son of a polygamous peasant and a school dropout, getting a slot in the Uganda Police Force (UPF) in 1979 was like winning a lottery. Joining an institution that was feared yet equally rewarding was as life changing as it was an honour. He, however, had to bide his time.
“After the recruitment, I reported to Naguru Police Barracks to start my police training,” Col (Rtd) Ndahura recalls.
The police basic training used to take nine months in the police schools. To Col Ndahura’s shock, he was among the few hand-picked recruits, who were taken to Kabamba Military School for the basic training.
“We were taken for military training alongside other military recruits at Kabamba Military School,” Col Ndahura said.
Although it didn’t come to his mind then why just a few police recruits had been taken for training in the military facility, he later got wind of rumours through his acquaintances. Col Ndahura and others had been recruited at the time when there was tension between leaders who had toppled Idi Amin’s government.
One of the leaders was Yoweri Museveni, whom Milton Obote’s team accused of carrying out secret recruitment of people from western Uganda and refugees in security forces. Some of the police recruits then, including Gen Kale Kayihura, were denied entry into the police on similar grounds.
Despite Col Ndahura and his colleagues being allowed to join the police, they remained on a short leash.
“Our training was abnormally long. We were accused that Museveni, who was then in the Opposition, had recruited us into the police. So we were not passed out after a year, yet the training was supposed to take nine months,” Col Ndahura said.
The allegations were not far from the truth as there were serving soldiers, who had connections with Museveni.
“During our training, Regiment Sergeant Major Tadeo Kanyankole, who later ended up joining the National Resistance Army (NRA) rebels, used to mobilise a few of us, telling us that there was a ploy to harm those believed to be friendly to the Uganda Patriotic Movement (UPM),” Col Ndahura said.
The government had brought in Tanzanian military instructors to iron out any indiscipline in the recruits. Col Ndahura said the Tanzania military training was so brutal that the success of their course was determined by the number of trainees who had died.
“When the instructors would ask for the number of trainees who had died in the course of the training and when they were told that there were none, they would say: ’you haven’t done enough’,” Col Ndahura said.
Tough childhood
Col Ndahura survived the training, thanks to being born in 1960 into a polygamous family where his father and mother were often absent. John Birakurataki, his father, was a peasant who only learnt how to speak English to continue operating a grader under the watchful eye of British colonialists. Although his father’s English was grammatically incorrect, many people thought he was educated and an elite.
Col Ndahura liked the English language that he would often tune into BBC radio. His association with the Whites, who were working on the infrastructure projects, also helped him to keep up with the modern lifestyle. His father’s job as a grader operator was a magnet to many women and the old man often gave in to the temptations. Although he hadn’t gone to school, operating such a massive vehicle that had several buttons to press earned Birakurataki a lot of respect among the locals. Polygamy was all but inevitable.
“I come from a family of 30 brothers and sisters who had different mothers. We grew up in that setting. Every year, we had a party for my father’s new wife and other wives went away. So I didn’t grow up with my mother,” Col Ndahura said.
“One time, we were informed that my father was to wed a woman only to be told later that she was one whom a minister in Obote’s government and a soldier had fought for in a bar,” he added.
The woman was a dancer in Heart Group of Uganda, a popular dance troupe then. It is alleged that among the suitors she counted included John Kakonge, a minister then, and one Sergeant Kayongo. The latter reportedly attacked the former, leaving him with serious injuries. The incident was prominently covered in the media.
“Some people wondered how my father would win the love of a woman who a minister and a soldier were contesting for. My father and the woman ended up having twins and a long-time relationship,” Col Ndahura said.
The sheer number of children under Birakurataki’s care meant it was a battle to even have meals. In fact, Col Ndahura partly attributed the status quo to him dropping out of school in the late 1970s despite performing well throughout his education at Kabalega Primary School and later in Kabalega Secondary School. Due to economic turmoil during the Amin regime, his father could barely survive.
Driven by fear
Col Ndahura felt he would return to school when normalcy returned. When it did, he instead chose to have a crack at joining the UPF. Despite the harsh training, the Tanzanian instructors often produced the best products. Col Ndahura said an officer trained by the Tanzanians would be distinguished from those instructed by others because of their unique abilities.
As the trainees overstayed in the training school, a rumour had milled around they were not going to be passed out over suspicion that they could be allied to the rebel group.
It wasn’t clear whether RSM Kanyankole was behind it to power his recruitment drive for the NRA rebels or not. Fearful for their lives, Col Ndahura and company were secretly prepared to defend themselves.
“We had been prepared to resist such an arrest. We rehearsed how to counter the threats. We waited for the opportune time if the attack ever happened. RSM Kanyankole was to lead us in the resistance,” Col Ndahura disclosed.
On February 6, 1981, while they were on a rendezvous, they started hearing gunshots inside their barracks in Kabamba, little did they know that the first attack of the NRA rebels was underway.
“We thought we were finished. When we returned, we were told that rebels led by Museveni had attacked the barracks. Sgt Maj Kanyankole told us there was a possibility that some of the recruits would be rounded up and end up in Luzira Prison,” he said.
Col Ndahura and several others didn’t wait for an arrest. He escaped by walking for tens of miles before reaching a trading centre where he got public transport. His next stop was in his rural village to hide.
Unwelcome home
The news of the attack on Kabamba had arrived before him. Where he expected refuge, he got hostility since they were Anglicans by faith and they believed in the Obote’s government. The politics of the time was so inclined to religion. The Catholics allied with the Democratic Party (DP) led by Paul Ssemogerere, while the Anglicans supported Uganda Peoples Congress (UPC) headed by Obote. The general elections had just ended and UPC supporters were still hunting DP supporters and destroying their property.
“One of my uncles had even said that even if it was his child who was against the UPC government, he would hand him over to security agencies. Seeing my life in danger, I decided to leave. I went to my other relatives, who were supporters of DP, and they welcomed me,” he said.
Soon the government forces started looking for deserters who had left during the attacks on the military bases. Col Ndahura didn’t see a chance of surviving the crackdown.
“Using my relative in the police, I was able to be sneaked back in the police as my fellow recruits were returning to Naguru for police training after a month of desertion,” he said.
His return wasn’t questioned. They underwent another six months of training in police work before being passed out.
Joining the rebels
Fresh from training, he was deployed in Bushenyi District, where the District Police Commander was Cossy Odomel. Mr Odomel is now a member of the Police Authority, having previously served as the Inspector General of Police. Col Ndahura later applied to join the Special Branch and was chosen, which was a key department in the police that carried out intelligence for the police.
Col Ndahura landed in the hands of the British and Israeli intelligence-gathering instructors, who shaped his early skill in spying and intelligence. Instead of using intelligence skills, he would share information with his brother, Mambo Bazabbisa, who would also pass it on to the NRA rebels using Kanyankore’s contact. After some time, Bazabbisa convinced him to join the NRM rebels.
An opportunity manifested in 1985 as NRA rebels were retreating to the Rwenzori Mountains. Col Ndahura was then deployed in Kasese District. His brother sent someone to inform him that it would be better for him to join the rebels to survive. He answered the call and joined the rebels in Kasese District.
“I was sent to the training wing where I was taken through political education lessons. I was very good, and I was earmarked for the workshop, which was for the best of the best. You had to read a revolutionary book in one day and discuss it,” he said.
In those classes, he met people like Gen Apollo Kasiita-Gowa and Rusoke Kajabagu (RIP), who believed in the Marxist ideas that they taught. Once Col Ndahura attended the classes, he became a Marxist. It was surprising that the NRA rebel command deployed him in their political commissariat to pass on their ideologies to combatants and the public.
“Political commissars maintained the strategic relationship between our struggle and the public. The commissar had to keep the commanders in check, regardless of their ranks,” he said.
“Political commissars were very powerful during the Bush War and a few years after. I wouldn’t sign for the rotten beans. Ndahura was known for that. In one way, today, the discipline has gone lacking with the expansion of the army. The commissar has turned into a paper tiger,” he said.
