He warned the Ugandan rulers, on two occasions, that Idi Amin was plotting to overthrow the government. They ignored him each time. He refused to attack Kabaka Mutesa II at his palace. They relieved him of his duties. Idi Amin threatened to kill him. He dodged the bullet. He actively participated in the NRA’s capture of Kampala. He is hardly acknowledged by the victors. But happily, he has lived to tell the story.
And what a story it is, a fireside conversation by one who has witnessed Uganda’s journey from a colonial protectorate to an independent country, then a land of dashed hope, and a rollercoaster ride to its current station of uncertainty.
The Survivor: The Life of Andrew Ganshanga Tindikahwa, a 285-page autobiography that was published in September 2024, is one of my most captivating reads in recent months. From his very humble beginning in Burime Village, Rwamucuucu, Rukiga, to St. Leo’s College Kyegobe in Tooro; from a private recruit in the King’s African Rifles in 1959 to his training at Mons Officer Cadet School in England; from Camp Commandant of the nascent Uganda Air Force to participating in some of Uganda’s defining moments, Tindikahwa’s is as much a personal story as it is our country’s history during its early formative years.
The account of the traditional world of Abakiga gives the younger generations a witness account of one who lived with sheep and goats in the same house and had leopards as neighbours. His description of Uganda’s early party politics encapsulates the parochialism that has informed our messy efforts for nearly seventy years.
His academic journey is an affirmation of the possibilities that await one who has clarity of purpose, a game plan with clear priorities, and the capacity for perseverance in executing the race towards the prize.
His life as a manager of public commercial enterprises reminds us of the marriage between politics and national economies, and the sabotage of the common good by selfish people at the helm of the country’s governments.
His near-death experiences, and his personal losses tag at the reader’s heart and emotions, reminding one of what ultimately matters most, and the courage it takes for one to keep going after tragedy strikes.
However, it is his firsthand account of Uganda’s early political and military history that makes Tindikahwa’s book an indispensable read for all who are interested in our country’s wounded beginning. The Uganda Crisis of 1966 was not a story that he heard or read about. He was there when Uganda was set on fire. He watched the arsonists ignite an inferno that would ultimately consume them. His attempts to stop them nearly cost him his life.
Captain Tindikahwa, a 25-year-old officer, was present at the Independence Day celebration on October 9, 1965. He witnessed the muted reception accorded to Milton Obote, the prime minister, followed by a rapturous celebration of the arrival of Sir Edward Mutesa II, the president of Uganda. “We sat on the left of the VIP arena,” Tindikahwa reports. “My eyes were glued on Prime Minister Obote to see his reaction. He looked unusually gloomy and seemed to be annoyed.” The crisis was accelerating towards the cliff.
Four months later, Obote struck with a series of actions that culminated in an attack on the Kabaka’s Palace that remains the most consequential event of the entire crisis. “We were not told until the evening of 22nd of May,1966,” Tindikahwa recalls. “Colonel Amin came and called a meeting with company commanders. He briefed us on what was happening in the country. He finally informed us that the Kabaka of Buganda, who was also the President of Uganda, Sir Edward Mutesa had piled weapons at his palace to overthrow the government led by Milton Obote. Our mission was, therefore, to abort it. We had to capture those guns. He did not mention what we should do with the President and the people therein. Finally, he ordered me, a captain, to lead the attack into the palace.
“I smelt a rat once again. My mind was racing. I became suspicious of his intentions, aware of what he had said at Entebbe and later at Moroto. The Bakiga spirit was aroused. I raised my misgivings about the operation and its political implications well-knowing it would annoy him. He was angry with me and that is what I needed. I told him that I was not going there. He wanted me to lead an attack on the same President, he had accused me of supporting. I got what I wanted. My company was dropped from the attack, but I was to see the consequences follow soon.”
With Captain Tindikahwa unwilling to attack the Kabaka of Buganda, Col. Idi Amin chose another officer to do so. I had not heard of that officer until I read Tindikahwa’s account. I had to read the name again, then stop reading to let it sink in. That officer obeyed Amin’s order and led the attack on the Palace on May 24, 1966.
Tindikahwa visited the Palace on the day of the attack. “When I went there that morning, the sight was ghastly,” he reports. “The Kabaka’s subjects who answered the call for help had been mowed down during the siege of his palace. Spears, bows and arrows, and machetes could be seen scattered around.”
He then answers the big question that has, hitherto, eluded a clear statement by a reliable witness. Was there a weapons cache, amassed by Kabaka Mutesa II at the Palace, for the purpose of overthrowing the Government of Uganda? Tindikahwa, a reliable firsthand witness, answers the question very clearly. For me, the question is now settled.
Through it all, Tindikahwa faced multiple opportunities for premature and violent death. The plots to kill him, and his James Bond-like maneuvers to outwit them, are the stuff of award-winning movie thrillers. He survived them, and he has outlived the ruthless men who wanted him dead.
At the age of 85, he is intellectually sharp and still working in a field far removed from the high-risk world of the army that he served with distinction. He is a rare asset that wise journalists ought to seek out and give Ugandans an opportunity to learn from him.
Tindikahwa has served his country very well. His record of the events is a special gift to us and to posterity. It is now for us to read his book and understand more about our past. Perhaps we may avoid the foolish actions that led us to our current predicament.
© Muniini K. Mulera