Why Uganda is light years behind making Africa Cup of Nations grade

For Mwesigwa, who thought his worst moment in a Cranes jersey was when he became the first Ugandan to blink in a 9-8 shootout loss to Zambia during a winner-takes-all 2013 Afcon qualifier, this will be a performance he will want to forget. Fast. While his hard-boiled approach won him The Cranes’ captain armband, it appears to have also made for a plaintive epitaph to his national career.

The cracks were there for all to see during Uganda’s 1-0 win over Ghana. Mwesigwa took quite a robust view of things so much so that a simple game of football morphed into a wrestling contest of sorts.
Agricultural tackles on Majeed Waris (upended) and Andre Ayew (missed the man but not the grass) left many Cranes faithful with their hearts in their mouths.

Yet as hideous as he looked, scapegoating Mwesigwa to put an end to what has been a sorry issue is just that, scapegoating. Ugandan football has been on life support for a protracted period and all we’ve cared to do is sweep the dust under the proverbial carpet. Radical changes never see the light of day.

Uganda football is due a sea change; not a cosmetic headlined by the guillotining of Mwesigwa. One of the societal problems peculiar to Ugandans is that of overstaying one’s welcome. It was typified by Mwesigwa on that harrowing Wednesday night.

Lest we forget, Savio Kabugo and Richard Kasagga laid claim to starting berths at the heart of Cranes’ central defence when they turned in compelling performances at the African Nations Championships (CHAN) in South Africa early this year. But with Mwesigwa still hanging in there, the pipeline was always going to be clogged.

Interestingly, with the retired Ibrahim Sekagya in the midst of an Indian summer with his New York Red bulls outfit, almost the whole nation clamoured for his return. Sekagya politely shrugged off the overtures.

There are not that many of his ilk in Uganda, be it in the administrative or playing spheres. And that dear reader is the beginning of our problems. Until we learn to let go of the baton, we are always going to come off second best in photo-finishes.

Football is in essence supposed to mirror the conveyor belt of a factory with generations (under-17, under-23, etc) being groomed to take centre-stage later on. Do we heed this best practice? Your guess is as good as mine. Our soap opera will always have that familiar sinking feeling if we continue thinking short-term. We need to have structures that encourage transitions and meritocracy.

A decade later, Bata has patience to thank for feats

It’s been a decade now since Timothy Batabaire started buttering his bread in South Africa. While the advancing ravages of age — he’s 33 — have taken away the nerves of steel that served him well on the pitch, Batabaire, now a free agent, is not about to let us talk about him in the past tense.

When your columnist met up with him mid last week, Bata, as he’s affectionately known, was in high spirits. Modest and unassuming as ever, Bata revisited the infancy of his playing career when during his first training session at Villa Park, the ancestral training ground of SC Villa, Philip Ssozi referred to him as a “mechanic” (a pejorative in Ugandan footballing circles).

Bata’s uncompromising style was never the cup of tea of many people who didn’t hesi-tate to call it antiquated. Yet this old-fashioned defender would go on to stay the course in the South African Absa Premiership, turning out for the likes of Bloemfontein Celtic, Bidvest Wits and Vasco da Gama.

It was never Bata told yours truly, a cakewalk. During his first foray into the Absa Prem-iership with Bloemfontein Celtic, Bata had to go through the ignominy of signing a six-month contract. He, however, worked his socks off in what turned out to be a successful bid to gain acceptance. He spent five years at the club, scoring six league goals in 101 appearances.

Gaining acceptance in the Absa Premiership has proven to be a bridge too far for for-eign players. The failures by Brian Umony and Tonny Mawejje to get a foothold in the league tell their own story. You need much more than just a bag of skills to go places in the Absa Premiership. You need paragons of virtue, with the pick of them being pa-tience. Well, at least according to Bata.

Patience — that old-fashioned virtue of staying in for old time’s sake — has proven to be a winner for Bata. Asking Ugandan players to showcase this old-fashioned virtue, however, continues to be a tough sell. Most of them gravitate toward get-rich fixes.
This best explains why leagues in the Far East (Vietnam, Thailand, etc) continue to hold quite an allure.

The Absa Premiership is no spring chicken. Bata told your columnist that the league is fiercely competitive both on the pitch and the boardroom.

Players are always under pressure to bring their A game to justify the big paycheques they take home. You’re on-ly as good as your next result, and cannot rest on your laurels.

The growth in the league’s stature is best captured by the outstanding form that the Bafana Bafana — South Africa’s national team — has showed in the 2015 Afcon qualifying campaign. Previously a laughing stock in African football, South Africa won a group that had Nigeria (they won’t be defending their title in Equatorial Guinea).

Bata says when he started playing in the Absa Premiership, it was at the same level as the Uganda Premier League (UPL). It has been a decade of growth. Will it also be a decade of growth for the UPL?