Orubugo: The barkcloth that reminded Tooro of who we are
Kabahuma says at one craft shop, Maria Craft, Abanyamirwa (Royal functionaries) from different Amasaza (Counties) could be seen searching for Orubugo to wear for the coronation. But once again, the barkcloth was difficult to find. Some eventually resorted to wearing the brown Lesu.
Kabahuma says the same experience was witnessed again during the coronation of the current King, King Edward Rukidi Nyabongo I.
By Kabahuma Anne Kalinzi
In August, Tooro Kingdom was confronted with the painful news of the death of her King, Oyo Kabamba Iguru Rukidi IV. It was a period of mourning, reflection and profound sorrow for the people of Tooro.
Yet, amidst the grief, one cultural symbol stood out prominently: Orubugo — barkcloth.
Throughout the mourning period, men across the Kingdom could be seen wearing barkcloth tied around their necks or draped over one shoulder. Some women wore hairbands made from the same material.
The sight was striking—not simply because of the circumstances in which the barkcloth was being worn, but because it reminded us that some of our cultural traditions remain deeply embedded in our identity, even when the knowledge and skills behind them are slowly disappearing.
The demand for Orubugo during the mourning period quickly became apparent. Traders from Kampala came to Fort Portal City and displayed and sold barkcloth along the streets.
A few local craft shops had some pieces in stock, but these were quickly depleted. By the time of the burial, barkcloth had become difficult to find, forcing many people to turn to brown cloth, locally known as Obulesu, which was available in some craft shops.
The same experience was witnessed again during the coronation of the current King, King Edward Rukidi Nyabongo I.
At one craft shop, Maria Craft, Abanyamirwa (Royal functionaries) from different Amasaza (Counties) could be seen searching for Orubugo to wear for the coronation. But once again, the barkcloth was difficult to find. Some eventually resorted to wearing the brown Lesu.
For some people of my generation, this was perhaps the first time they had ever seen or worn Orubugo. Many did not know where it came from. Some even believed that barkcloth was primarily a Buganda cultural product, largely because of the visibility and promotion it has received there.
But barkcloth is much more than that.
Barkcloth comes from the bark of Omutoma tree, scientifically known as Ficus natalensis. Yet in Tooro, the tree is becoming increasingly difficult to find as a living cultural resource. In many places, it is now seen mainly as part of farm or garden fencing, despite its important cultural and ritual significance.
This raises an important question: What happens when a society retains the cultural meaning of an object but loses the knowledge of how to produce it?
The history of barkcloth in Uganda is complex. Its everyday use declined over time, while its use became increasingly associated with particular cultural and spiritual functions.
The spread of Christianity also contributed to the marginalisation of many African cultural practices, with some indigenous rituals and traditions being dismissed as backward or associated with beliefs that were considered unacceptable.
As cultural institutions were weakened during the colonial and post-colonial periods, many traditional practices and the knowledge associated with them also suffered.
However, the restoration of cultural institutions in Uganda has contributed to renewed interest in traditional ways of life, including the use of barkcloth. Today, barkcloth is increasingly being used not only for cultural ceremonies but also to create products like hats, mats, book covers, purses and other craft products.
This renewed interest provides an opportunity—but also a warning.
Every generation inherits a responsibility that extends beyond buildings, monuments and physical landscapes. We inherit traditions, knowledge and skills that define who we are as a people.
Barkcloth is one such inheritance.
It represents centuries of indigenous knowledge, craftsmanship, creativity and resilience. But as technology and modern lifestyles reshape how we live and work, fewer young people are being exposed to the traditional skills that were once passed naturally from parents and grandparents to their children.
If we do not deliberately preserve these skills, we may one day find ourselves wearing Orubugo for cultural occasions without having anyone who knows how to make it.
The demand exists. The cultural significance exists. What is increasingly needed is the investment in the people, trees, knowledge and systems required to sustain its production.
There is also an opportunity to look at Orubugo beyond ceremonial use.
Young people in Tooro have the creativity, energy and innovation needed to give new life to traditional heritage. Barkcloth can find a place in contemporary fashion, interior design, fine art, sustainable packaging, tourism, architecture and the wider creative economy.
This can create opportunities for entrepreneurship and employment while simultaneously preserving cultural identity.
Imagine a generation of young Tooro designers who understand the history of Orubugo and can transform it into contemporary products for local and international markets.
Imagine artisans who can sustainably harvest barkcloth, process it, dye it, design with it and teach others.
Imagine cultural centres where children can see an Omutoma tree, learn how barkcloth is harvested and processed, hear the stories associated with it and then watch an experienced artisan transform it into a contemporary product.
That is how heritage remains alive.
Learning about barkcloth is not simply about learning how to make a traditional craft. It is about understanding indigenous knowledge systems, sustainable use of natural resources and the economic value of cultural heritage
Every young person who learns the craft becomes a bridge between generations protecting history while helping to shape the future.
Culture preservation therefore begins with education.
We need deliberate spaces where experienced artisans can teach young people. We need cultural institutions, schools, communities, entrepreneurs and government to work together to document indigenous knowledge and create opportunities for young people to learn traditional skills
We also need to ensure that the people who possess this knowledge are recognised and supported as custodians of our heritage.
The preservation of Orubugo must also begin with the Omutoma tree itself. If the tree disappears from our communities, the craft associated with it will inevitably become more difficult to sustain. Protecting the natural resource must therefore be part of protecting the cultural practice.
The experience of Orubugo during the mourning of King Oyo Kabamba Iguru Rukidi IV and the coronation of King Edward Rukidi Nyabongo I should remind us that cultural preservation cannot be left to ceremonies alone.
It requires deliberate investment, education, documentation, production and markets.
This is where the leadership of H.E. President Yoweri Kaguta Museveni deserves recognition.
Over the years, President Museveni has consistently emphasised the importance of preserving Uganda's cultural heritage while linking culture and traditional skills to livelihoods, wealth creation and national development.
His emphasis on artisanship, skills development, local mass production and markets reflects an understanding that culture is not simply about looking back at our past; it can also contribute to the future economic wellbeing of our people
At the coronation of King Edward Rukidi Nyabongo I, the President emphasised:
“We must preserve our indigenous science, crafts, cultural practices, and heritage.
For those of us working directly with artisans and cultural products, this message carries great meaning.
A basket, wood bowl or spoon, chair, mat, barkcloth product or other traditional item should therefore not be viewed merely as a cultural artefact. It can also be a product of enterprise, a source of income for a household and a means of keeping indigenous knowledge alive.
Creating markets for traditional products used in homes is particularly important because it takes cultural crafts beyond occasional ceremonies and places them within everyday economic life.
When people buy locally made traditional products for their homes, they are not simply buying an object. They are supporting the artisan who made it, the community that supplied the raw material and the knowledge system that made the product possible.
This is where culture and economic transformation can meet.
We must also protect the natural resources from which these crafts are made.
For Orubugo, that means protecting and planting the Omutoma tree
If the tree disappears from our communities, the knowledge of producing barkcloth will eventually become much harder to sustain. Cultural preservation must therefore go hand in hand with environmental conservation.
The preservation of Orubugo is not only about preserving a piece of cloth.
It is about preserving the tree, the artisan, the harvesting knowledge, the processing skills, the cultural meaning and the market that keeps the entire chain alive.
The recent experiences in Tooro have shown us something important
A culture can remain meaningful even when its everyday practices have declined. A single ceremony can suddenly bring an old tradition back into public view. But when that happens, we must ask whether we still have the knowledge, artisans and natural resources to sustain that tradition.
Orubugo has reminded us of who we are.: It has reminded us of the ingenuity of our ancestors, the richness of our indigenous knowledge and the responsibility we have to those who will come after us.
The President's call to preserve indigenous science, crafts, cultural practices and heritage should inspire practical action.
If we truly value our heritage, we must invest in the people who carry it, the young people who must inherit it, and the natural resources from which it is created.
We must also create markets that allow artisans to earn from their knowledge.
The shortage of Orubugo during two significant moments in the life of Tooro has shown us that the demand for our culture still exists.
What we need is the capacity to meet that demand from within our communities, while ensuring that the economic benefits reach the artisans and families who keep these traditions alive.
The future of our heritage cannot depend only on remembering what our ancestors did.
We must ensure that our children know how to do it, understand why it matters, earn from it, and have the freedom to innovate with it.
That is how culture survives.
That is how heritage becomes an economic opportunity.
And that is how we ensure that the traditions we inherited are not merely preserved for the present generation, but remain alive for generations yet to come.
The Writer is a Special Presidential Assistant