Final journeys of the three Popes who visited Uganda

KAMPALA - When Pope Francis passed away on Monday, the world stood still. But in Uganda, the news did more than shock — it awakened a deep and sacred memory of the three Roman Catholic popes who walked on Ugandan soil: Pope Paul VI, Pope John Paul II and Pope Francis. 

These visits were not merely ceremonial tours — they were spiritual milestones that helped define Uganda’s place in the global Catholic community. 

Each pope came with a unique message, but all shared a common spirit: Humility, courage and a deep love for Africa. Their final journeys — how they faced death — offered the world profound lessons in faith, sacrifice and legacy.

Pope Paul VI: The trailblazer who called Africa to rise 

The year was 1969. Uganda was barely a decade into its independence, still shaping its post-colonial identity. 

When Pope Paul VI landed at Entebbe International Airport on July 31 that year, history was made — he became the first pontiff in history to set foot on African soil. 

Over three sweltering days, he celebrated Mass at Kololo Independence Grounds, visited Namugongo Martyrs Shrine, and prayed with the clergy at Lubaga Cathedral. 

But it was at Lubaga that he uttered the now immortal words: “By now, you Africans, you are missionaries to yourselves.” With that sentence, Pope Paul VI shifted the narrative. 

No longer would Africa be seen only as a mission field. It had become a source of spiritual life for the global Church. Born Giovanni Battista Montini in 1897, Pope Paul VI was known for his intellectual depth and quiet strength. 

Elected in 1963 during a time of global change, he closed the Second Vatican Council and canonised the Uganda Martyrs, just a year later in 1964. 

He had a special place in his heart for Uganda. When invited by Archbishop Emmanuel Nsubuga in 1967, he said yes — no hesitation, no politics, just a shepherd answering his flock. 

At Namugongo, he honoured the 22 young men who chose Christ over the orders of Kabaka Mwanga. Their blood, he said, had sown the seeds of a thriving African Church. 
Nine years later, on August 6, 1978, Pope Paul VI died peacefully at the papal summer residence in Castel Gandolfo. He had just received holy communion at Mass. 

Shortly after, a heart attack ended his earthly journey. His request was simple: No grand monument, no elaborate coffin. True to form, Pope Paul VI was laid to rest beneath St Peter’s Basilica, in a humble tomb. 

In Uganda, churches held spontaneous Masses. He had loved them — and they loved him back.

Pope John Paul II: The shepherd who walked with Uganda in darkness, light 

When Pope John Paul II arrived in Uganda in February 1993, he came not during a time of celebration, but during a season of healing. The country was still reeling from years of civil war and the AIDS epidemic. 

He came not with answers, but with presence — and that presence meant everything. Born Karol Józef Wojtyła in 1920 in Wadowice, Poland, John Paul II had lived through the Nazi occupation and Communist repression. He understood suffering intimately. 

His election as pope in 1978 broke a centuries-old tradition — it had been 455 years since a non-Italian had held the office. 

By the time he visited Uganda, Pope John Paul II had already survived an assassination attempt in 1981 and had travelled to more countries than any pope before him. 

His visit to Uganda included stops in Namugongo, Kasese and Soroti, where he met AIDS orphans and survivors of the 1981-86 Luwero Triangle war. 

At Namugongo, standing where the martyrs once stood, he looked out over the crowd and declared: “Darkness has not extinguished your light.” 

He reminded Ugandans that faith could survive even the harshest trials. John Paul II was a pope of charisma and conviction. He championed youth, vocations and human rights. 

But in his final years, Parkinson’s disease slowly robbed him of movement, speech and strength. Yet he kept going — refusing to hide, refusing to give in to self-pity. His suffering was public, but dignified. It became its own homily. 

On the night of April 2, 2005, the bells of St Peter’s tolled for hours. At 9:37pm, surrounded by aides and close friends, Pope John Paul II died. Outside, the crowd — many in silent prayer — broke into spontaneous singing. 

Uganda mourned a friend who had stood with them not in triumph, but in trial.

Pope Francis: The humble shepherd who walked with the forgotten 

When Pope Francis arrived in Uganda on November 27, 2015, there was something markedly different about him. 

He came not as a ruler cloaked in regal splendour, but as a servant — a man of the people, whose very gestures told a story of love, mercy and humility. 

Born Jorge Mario Bergoglio in Buenos Aires on December 17, 1936, Francis was the son of Italian immigrants fleeing fascist Italy. He grew up in the working-class barrios, became a Jesuit, and spent his priesthood among the poor. 

Even as Archbishop of Buenos Aires, Argentina, he took the bus to work, cooked his own meals and visited the slums regularly. As Pope, he chose the name Francis after St Francis of Assisi, the patron of peace and poverty. 

He rejected the papal palace and moved into a modest guesthouse. He washed the feet of prisoners, embraced people with disabilities and warned the Church against becoming obsessed with wealth and status. 

In Uganda, Pope Francis’ stops mirrored his mission: Namugongo, Nalukolongo, Munyonyo and Lubaga Cathedral. At Lubaga, addressing clergy and seminarians, he said: “The most dangerous enemy of remembrance is forgetfulness...

It is when we take for granted everything we have received.” These were not mere speeches. They were calls to action. But years of service had taken a toll. 

Chronic knee pain confined him to a wheelchair. Recurring respiratory infections became more frequent. Last month, Pope Francis was diagnosed with severe pneumonia, complicated by kidney failure. He was placed on a ventilator. 

His condition seesawed — better one day, critical the next. The Vatican released sparse updates, but insiders knew. The world prayed. Uganda prayed. On Easter Monday, at 7:35am, Pope Francis died in his room, surrounded by his closest aides. 

There was no final speech, no parting gesture. Just the stillness of a soul going home. 
In accordance with his wishes, he is to be buried at Santa Maria Maggiore, a humble church in Rome where he often prayed quietly, away from cameras and crowds. There would be no golden sarcophagus, no marble tomb. Just simplicity, as he lived.

A legacy etched in faith and mercy 

Each of the three popes left something unique in Uganda’s heart: Paul VI brought the global Church to Africa and gave Ugandans their voice as missionaries. 

John Paul II showed Uganda how to carry suffering with dignity and inspired a generation to rise from the ashes. Pope Francis reminded Uganda — and the world — that greatness lies not in grandeur, but in service to the least among us. 

Together, they built a spiritual bridge that linked Namugongo to Rome. They walked different paths, but all arrived at the same truth: that love, sacrifice, and remembrance are the pillars of faith. 

As Uganda lowers its flags and holds requiem masses, it does so with deep gratitude. 

These were not just visits — they were blessings. Pope Francis had once said: “How I would love a Church that is poor and for the poor.” In Uganda, he found that Church — alive, wounded, joyful and strong.