My soul, so consumed with sorrowful somberness, is pulled down by a dark force that bereavement throws our way. The ranks of brave fighters for real freedom continue to be pruned by death. So relentless an onslaught that renders one numb and lost in thoughts about one’s journey with the recently deceased. This year has been especially ruthless in its harvest among the class of men and women that have spoken with courage and clarity in our land where many have been rendered silent or incoherent by the dictates of material gain and personal comfort, and fear of course.
The latest departure from these ranks is James Musinguzi Garuga, that most remarkable man who happily emptied himself of God’s gifts in the service of others. While many have correctly judged that Musinguzi has died young, for he was not quite seventy-two, his death at any age, even at the century mark, would have been too soon.
I must accept that this great illustrious son of Kigyezi and Uganda, now lying in silence in Kinkizi, is gone forever. Yet Musinguzi lives in his extraordinary actions, in hundreds of thousands of people that he lifted, in the offspring of his encouragement and enabling generosity, and in the gratitude of those upon whom he laid his silent hands without expecting compensation.
He is alive in the influence he has had on individuals and communities; the mindset change he has triggered in those who watched and listened; and in the silent wind that propels those who continue to fight for democracy and freedom in our shared motherland.
Musinguzi was not ekireebw’omwe (a meteorite) that coursed through the night sky for but a moment. He was a bright force, igniting others and destined to keep doing so for many years ahead. His death is not the beginning of a dark period, but a stepping down from a job he has done with outstanding commitment and distinction.
However, I await a glimpse of his worthy successor in the perpetuation of valor, clarity of speech, and fearless defence of the underdog. Do we have young Bakiga, for example, who speak not in tongues but with the clarity that earned their ancient nation a well-deserved reputation for fidelity to the truth, and a deep aversion to hypocrisy and voluntary enslavement?
I worry that the stereotype of the straight-talking Mukiga who is not afraid to speak truth to power may soon fade to black. These days, one hears nothing but faked songs of praise of the rulers by descendants of men and women who did not yield the highlands without resistance. The thirst for easy money, meaningless titles, and temporary supremacy over fellow citizens has propelled many to betray their consciences. Many use their ethnic identity to negotiate their price for access to transient pleasure and comfort.
And they negotiate for crumbs, with many applauding small envelopes of public money, instead of demanding tarmacked roads, and life-changing infrastructure investments. Once-proud Bakiga dance and sing when small tokens are thrown their way to meet their personal health care abroad, instead of demanding world-class hospitals in every region of Uganda, including Kabaare, home of a former prime minister and a former governor of the Bank of Uganda.
However, all is not lost. Something tells me that Musinguzi’s work has not died with him. Within the darkness of his death shines a bright light that beckons us to stand straight with the shield of courage, the spear of truth, the clothes of non-transactional generosity, the spirit of humility, and unrelenting defence of freedom for all. That light invites young Ugandans, especially Banyakigyezi, to embrace and defend the ideals of free speech and democracy that Musinguzi guarded without apology.
Words are not necessary to praise him. His works speak volumes. He was a fallible being who served humanity, his country, his people, and his family with sincerity. Younger generations have an opportunity to learn from Musinguzi, for he set the bar high, a refreshing departure from the betrayal that became the norm in Uganda.
Where many educated and economic elite chose silence in the face of injustice, Musinguzi exercised his freedom and accepted ostracization. Where others preferred the easy way to access cash and opportunities through patronage and surrender of their consciences, Musinguzi chose the hard and lonely path. That was not surprising, for Musinguzi did not need lectures about patriotism. He was patriotic, and so he was not afraid to take the risks that accompany resistance to injustice.
We mourn a man who planted a great mahogany tree that struck its roots so deep that it would likely take mass madness of his people to uproot. Musinguzi was a rare breed of a modern Mukiga, now destined for a place among the great Banyakigyezi whom our elders and our generation venerate through songs and heroic recitations.
To the names of Ruyooka rwa Maganya, Nyakeirima ka Muzoora, Katuregye k’Abakongwe, Ntokibiri, Mutambuka w’Abaheesi, Ngorogoza w’Abainika, Mukombe w’Abacucu, Rukeribuga rw’Abafumbira, and Karegyesa ka Beene Kirenzi, we add Musinguzi wa Garuga. We do so with humble confidence that reminds us of our unworthiness to sing his praises.
To his wife Peace Bagorogoza, my condolences and love from a brother who salutes you for keeping your promises with grace and exemplary refinement. To his sons and daughters, your DNA and upbringing have fuelled your sprint as you carry your parents’ well secured batons. To all who understood and supported Musinguzi, may his light continue to shine in your lives, and challenge you and me to give our best for the betterment of others. Why else do we live?
© Muniini K. Mulera