Uhuru: The peace and security froth

Long time ago it was but blink, there was traffic at the roundabout ahead; rather unusual at such a time and on a public holiday. Then I concentrated, focused and quickly recalled that I was indeed turning left onto the now Kampala Serena Hotel.

As the mild traffic built, it quickly became apparent that what I had not intended to think about was in fact what was happening. Within moments, a trail of vehicles rolled. Lots of them. Military tracks, then some mean-looking guys, then even a mobile toilet and again, more vehicles. Then an ambulance. 

Then more and then some others with rolling guns as if Uganda was about to launch a journey to the moon, but it turns out it is one of those serious and angry weapons, like some kind that can strike an aircraft. And speedy too. 

For a moment it was as if Uganda or, was it Crested Towers was at war but you guessed it; not at all! It was after all, 35 years of ‘NRA peace, stability, tranquillity, secured future, UPE’ and magic-master was on the way to ‘relaunch’ our independence – at Kololo Independence Grounds.

The village-long convoy passed without incident, then we all went our ways. Whatever other motorists thought were matters for them, after all we are a 59-year-old nation, not some kind of Juba.

With promise of a more active evening, I behaved in my meetings, resolved phone calls and as if God and in true witness as (John1:7-8) would say, I found myself passed Acacia Avenue and onto Lower Kololo Terrace.

Bang, I remembered: At exactly this spot (about 40 or so metres off Acacia Avenue) on Lower Kololo Terrace in July 1985, I had an incident. 

It was around 7pm and I was returning from walking home a young beautiful friend from Mt Elgon. We had parted possibly 50 meters away; it was getting dark and I decided to walk back. Momentarily came this wide, slow but not so slow black Mercedes Benz. 

Hardly had I settled my mind when came another; similar in everything except, rather apparent number plate and at the back with a minimal open window, but at a stroll and in it Dr Apollo Milton Obote; the President. 

A stroll but just then, they were gone. I woke up to possibilities of other vehicles following, but none appeared. I walked home. My day was complete as I narrated the story to one of my cousin’s house-helps, her paternal cousin.

This was two or three weeks to the July 27, 1985, military coup. I had visited my cousin who lived the other side off Acacia Avenue and on request, had stayed a little longer as I prepared to visit Nagongera, Tororo, for the last time before joining the university a couple of months later.

So, looking back; Obote could (and did) travel from Nakasero to Kololo at 7pm in two cars and without an outrider in July 1985, a time when there was tension within government, and NRA-RPA bandits were all scattered in Luweero, bits of Kampala and further west.

Museveni has ruled this country since 1986, claiming massive popularity, support, peace, stability, heaven, even gods; why take a whole battalion on – of all days – Independence Day to travel the same distance? Who is fooling who?

My good friend Ibrahim Ssemujju Nganda made some serious suggestion the other day which I now approve: Taken for granted and for rides for rather too long, let us attempt and see a ‘popularity contest march’ on Kampala Road with Uganda House as the finishing line. We are after all (Mathew25:21), merely servants. You decide.

The writer is a pan-Africanist and former columnist with New African Magazine                      [email protected]