Memories of UBC: A tale of and a tribute to a journalist most disorganised

So it was impossible, after keen editorial consideration, to approve any of the stories he brought. The pictures were basically okay (like four and a half out of 10), but the news angling, the voice and quality of the voice-overs were atrocious! 

I don’t think he ever went to journalism school, which probably aggravated just about everything. 

Lousy and disorganised, I doubt he could recognise a comb if he saw one. Mercifully though, he at least, knew what a toothbrush looked like. He put on shoes when he wanted and when he did, they were shoes that gave a jobless cobbler immediate hope for income! 

All other times he was like another eccentric, but extremely brilliant very good friend of mine, Richard Tinkasiimire Baguma, he was of the Radio Uganda studio in them days, who at his wedding, wore a smart kitenge, dark trousers…and sandals.

Back to my journalist, the first thing that struck you when you met him was how uninspiring he was. I do not recall meeting a more disorganised person. And I am not even throwing invectives at him; I am only describing, with no less than mathematical exactness, what he was.

Yet in spite of all that, this boy was, hands down, one of the most remarkable characters I ever met. He was no good as an orthodox news reporter alright; but what he lacked in journalistic appeal, he nicely compensated when it came to human relations. 

I have never seen a man able to get so easily along with people as this my man! He was always jolly, fired up and laughing. He had a disarming simplicity about him that attracted people to him like bees to honey. 

This was a character who could walk to any embassy, lousy as he looked, and demand to talk to the ambassador. And he would talk to the ambassador – including the American one – over coffee and doughnuts. 

Whatever the trendiest laptop in the world was in 2006, this boy had it – given free of charge by some embassy. Another embassy gifted him with a set of camera equipment – which needed four people to carry. What many journalists had to spend years working for, this boy got within minutes, without breaking sweat, sitting cross-legged, sipping coffee and laughing with very important people on this continent.

The highest point of interaction with him was when we went to cover the peace talks between the Uganda government and the Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA), in Juba, South Sudan. 

It was of paramount importance that as national broadcaster, we be there; but nobody wanted to go. The journalist designated was Joseph Basoga – a very jolly, brilliant chap, highly gifted as a journalist, one of the best in the business back then. 
But he was also the most stubborn; a small, bouncy, energetic bundle of trouble in the newsroom. Basoga refused to go, saying the allowance was too small. 

Being team leader, I had to go. When we got to the check-in counter at Entebbe airport, it turned out my cameraman had never possessed a passport in his life! He laughed and promised he’d find me in Juba next day. 

I went with his equipment. Somehow the boy turned up in Juba next evening, new passport in hand! 

The following week when I had to travel back briefly, I was worried about how to get to the airport. He laughed and told me to leave it to him. He marched to one of the Generals of president Salva Kiir and within minutes I was in a military convoy to the airport! 

God is an equal opportunity God: nobody has everything, but everyone has something that makes them special. Sadly, my boy died without warning, several years ago…his name was Philip Okello.

Gawaya Tegulle is an advocate of the High Court of Uganda

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