Every senior citizen has a fireside to light
Uganda needs many more such conversations. Imagine the accumulated experience represented by the lives of our senior citizens: teachers, farmers, nurses, soldiers, civil servants, businesspeople, journalists, religious leaders, engineers, parents and grandparents who have succeeded, failed, recovered, raised families and watched Uganda change, writes Barbara Kaija
Barbara Kaija. (File)
_______________
OPINION
Every day, we see broken walls in our families, communities and country. We complain about bribery, gambling, laziness, indiscipline and the sense of entitlement we sometimes observe among our young people.
Unfortunately, complaining has never rebuilt a wall.
Those of us who remember what some of those walls once protected, including responsibility, hard work, neighbourliness, respect and accountability, have a choice. We can sit back and lament what has changed, or we can help rebuild.
As an ordinary senior citizen, you may wonder whether you have a role in raising the next generation of leaders. You do. Wherever you live, there is probably a young person who could benefit from something life has taught you.
I learnt this lesson in an unlikely classroom: A matatu.
On long journeys, football lovers can take over a taxi and argue about Arsenal, Manchester United and the Premier League for even 300km without tiring. But on one recent journey, a senior citizen took over that space and turned our taxi into a history classroom.
We had passed Kiboga when one Gen Z passenger declared his admiration for Idi Amin because, suggesting Amin had built hospitals such as the one there.
The senior citizen gently corrected him. “Those hospitals,” he explained, “had been built during the first Obote government.”
That opened the floodgates.
For kilometres, he walked the travellers through Uganda’s history and answered questions about our politics. Soon, other passengers joined in. The discussion ranged across governments, personalities and events that have shaped this country.
By the time we reached Nansana, a young woman sitting near me, who I later learnt was an engineer, whispered that the journey had felt like a civics lesson. She had learnt a great deal.
I did not agree with everything our senior citizen said either. The journey took place during the mourning period for the late Omukama Oyo Nyimba Kabamba Iguru Rukidi IV, and at one point, our travelling teacher seemed determined to run down Nyin’omukama Best Kemigisa. I tried to keep quiet, but eventually could not allow what I considered misinformation to stand, so I spoke up.
That was another lesson. A good conversation invites correction. Young people can learn as much from watching adults disagree respectfully as from hearing us agree.
Uganda needs many more such conversations.
According to the 2024 National Population and Housing Census, young people aged 18 to 30 constitute 23.5% of Uganda’s population. At the other end are about 2.3 million Ugandans aged 60 and above. Imagine the accumulated experience represented by those lives: teachers, farmers, nurses, soldiers, civil servants, businesspeople, journalists, religious leaders, engineers, parents and grandparents who have succeeded, failed, recovered, raised families and watched Uganda change.
We have a Ugandan model for tapping into that experience.
It takes a village to raise a child, we often say. For generations, the African fi replace ‘Kyoto’ was one of that village’s classrooms. Around it, stories were told, courage celebrated, foolishness ridiculed, history remembered and values passed from one generation to another.
Through the Emerging Leaders Programme, we use the byoto, the Ugandan fireside model, to bring young people into conversation with people whose lives carry lessons no textbook can fully teach.
At a kyoto in September 2025, Shadrack Magara told university students about spending 24 years behind bars, much of it under a death sentence, before receiving a presidential pardon. Today, he leads Pacem Haven Foundation. His lesson was about accountability, consequences, second chances and purpose.
At another, Stephen Asiimwe, the chief executive officer of the Private Sector Foundation Uganda, recalled leaving Makerere University and struggling to find a job. Persistence, including pursuing a contact he had met at a funeral, eventually opened a door at New Vision. His advice was practical: Have a 10 year vision, build networks, use time well and remain humble.
Dr James Magara of Jubilee Dental Clinics challenged young men to free themselves from stereotypes about masculinity. He recalled when his wife earned more than he did early in their marriage. Instead of allowing pride to consume him, he worked two jobs and kept building.
Prof. John Kitayimbwa and Dr Lydia Kitayimbwa offered students a checklist for choosing a life partner: Faith, character, communication, consistency, purpose, a saving culture and a growth mindset.
There is evidence that these conversations matter. The World Health Organisation identifies intergenerational contact as an effective way of reducing age based stereotypes and strengthening understanding between generations. Research involving more than 25,000 young people has similarly found positive effects from youth mentoring.
Perhaps our home grown fi reside conversations were onto something long before researchers gave it a name.
But elders cannot demand respect simply because they are old. Grey hair gives experience, but it does not automatically give wisdom. If young people are to listen, seniors too must listen. We must resist lecturing Gen Z about a world that no longer exists while refusing to understand the one they inhabit.
That is what a good kyoto should achieve: Young and old sitting together, exchanging ideas rather than shouting across a generational divide.
Imagine recreating these conversations in our homes, schools, churches, mosques and communities. A retired teacher can mentor neighbourhood children. A former civil servant can explain how public institutions work. A retired entrepreneur can help young people avoid mistakes that cost him 20 years to understand.
Every profession has senior citizens carrying institutional memory that disappears when they do.
Are we losing something valuable by not listening to them? Our media could help too. Instead of waiting to celebrate accomplished Ugandans in obituaries, why not find them now, while they can still tell their stories, answer questions and have their recollections challenged?
An elders grey hair represents years of wear and tear, mistakes, recovery, work, family and experience. It earns you a place at the fireside. Please use that place wisely, not to condemn the young, but to walk with them.
Our traditional byoto thrived on roasted groundnuts, maize and perhaps a cup of water. You only need a willing heart, a story worth sharing and the humility to listen too.
The fireside can be in your compound, under a mango tree, at church, at the mosque, at the neighbourhood shop or, as I discovered somewhere between Kiboga and Nansana, even inside a matatu.
Uganda has more than two million senior citizens. Imagine if each one lit a small fire.
The writer is an educationist, a media communication specialist and the Chairperson of the Board for the Emerging Leaders Programme; Kaijabarbara@gmail.com WhatsApp: 0708746624