How Uganda and Buganda fell out

May 24, 2008

TODAY, it is exactly 42 years since former Prime Minister Milton Obote ordered his army to attack the Buganda Palace and depose the then president, Kabaka Sir Edward Mutesa. The move shattered the delicate power sharing agreement that was struck just after independence and sparked off decades of arm

Events leading to the attack

42 years after the attack

TODAY, it is exactly 42 years since former Prime Minister Milton Obote ordered his army to attack the Buganda Palace and depose the then president, Kabaka Sir Edward Mutesa. The move shattered the delicate power sharing agreement that was struck just after independence and sparked off decades of armed conflict and political instability.

In an exclusive package, Saturday Vision publishes Obote’s speech one day after the Lubiri attack, details about the escape of the Kabaka, memories of a palace survivor and an analysis on how the 1966 events have shaped Uganda’s politics.

By Titus Kamebo

MEMORIES of torched grassthatched huts and burning flesh are as vivid as if it happened yesterday.

“I can still smell the burning human flesh and hair in that inferno,” says Abdu Rahman Senkumba, a soldier who survived the raid on the Kabaka’s palace. On May 24, 1966, as cocks crowed, gunshots rocked Lubiri palace. Bullets popped like corn as havoc was wrecked on Buganda royalty by the Uganda Army under Idi Amin’s command.

“What is a jewel to a pig?”

Ssenkumba asks, as he recounts tales of looters who helped themselves to royal regalia that day.

He recalls how the treasured royal drums, which had been in existence for more than 600 years, were torn to shreds and burnt. Buganda ancestral law, he says, prohibited people from even touching the drums.

“Each drum had a name and served a particular occasion. Their destruction symbolized the Kabaka’s loss of power.” There was mayhem. The King’s yachts docked on the lake were blown to smithereens.

In The Desecration Of My Kingdom, written by Kabaka Edward Mutesa, he says: “I selected a looter and shot him out of honest rage.”

By this time the palace horses had been let loose. He watched as his brother David Simbwa and his wives Sarah and Damalie being taken captive by his assailants. A disagreemnt between Mutesa, then the President of Uganda, and his Premier,
Milton Obote, resulted in the collapse of Buganda Kingdom. When Obote sent his soldiers to bring Mutesa to him ‘dead or alive’ the King was unprepared.

Out numbered, with only 120 guards and facing the Uganda Army with its Lee-Enfield rifles, three carbines, six Sterling machine guns and six automatic rifles, it was a loosing battle. Determined to protect the King, the guards knew the only option was for him to flee. Rain connived with the royals, as it slowed the attackers’ advancement.

Jumping over bodies as they fled, Mutesa and 20 royal soldiers hauled each other over the six foot high brick walls of the palace. Unfortunately, Kabaka Mutesa landed in a precarious angle that left his back bone injured. But the king was free and that’s all that mattered.

On his journey to exile in the United Kingdom, the King and his soldiers went through the Rome Fathers Cathedral. Sadly, the Cathedral could only host Mutesa, his ADC George Mallo and Captain Jehoasti Katende, the adjutant of the guards. The 17 soldiers had to look for refuge elsewhere. Finally, the king’s back given expert attention. It was massaged with Sloan’s liniment. And with survival instincts on full alert, the trio smeared their clothes with the liniment to outsmart the Police dogs in case they went sent sniffing after them.

Royal sympathisers began generating propaganda to divert the authorities’ attention. The hunt was on for Mutesa and 20 armed men, which eased the three men’s journey across the border to Burundi. They survived on a diet of berries and water.

Mutesa was seen in Nairobi and later in Addis Ababa. These tales made the hunt on the ground less intense. One time a stranger asked Mutesa if he had heard about the latest royal gossip and proceeded to update him. “Mutesa has married another wife while Damalie was killed in the battle. What an ingrate?”

Mutesa died in 1969. His remains were returned to Uganda in 1971 after the overthrow of Obote, and he was given a state funeral. Ironically, the new president, Idi Amin, who ordered the State funeral, was the commander who led the assault on Mutesa’s palace in 1966.

As you drive through Lubiri, you do not hear what happened behind those huge walls in 1966 when the Uganda Army stormed the four giant gates: Sabagabo, Kalala, Nalongo and the Main gate. Inside, there is an empty stable, a sports ground, offices, an old palace and a new palaces.

A guard who has celebrated more than 70 birthdays, scrutinises every guest and accords each one the attention a surgeon gives a patient on the operating table.

Since the attack 42 years ago, the guards, armed with batons, refuse to take chances. These men, who assisted the Kabaka on his long walk to freedom call themselves ‘Sixty Six’.

“There are many of us who stood by Kabaka Mutesa and fought by his side. Others died at the hands of the Uganda Army of which he was Commander-in-Chief,” says one, who chooses to remain anonymous.

“We were imprisoned and tortured. We saw combatants gallantly die on the battle front as the angry sky wept (rain) from the grey sky.”

Another veteran adds: “I saw the chief bodyguard, Benedicto Kibirige, being killed and I still carry the terrible image of the Kabaka jumping over the wall.”

He recalls how excited he was the following day, when it was announced on BBC radio that Mutesa had managed to escape unharmed. Seven soldiers died at the frontline. Among them was Asanasio Masembe, the overseer of the palace. Many others were rounded up and imprisoned at Luzira.

Since the restoration of Buganda Kingdom in 1993 Lubiri has reclaimed some glitter. Twekobe has a fresh coat of paint. The gardeners weed and trim the compound on a daily basis. Looking down Kabaka Anjagala Road, is a road to Bulange, where the Lukiiko (parliament) sits. There is a route only used by the King during official functions.

A canon, with white paint pealing off, sits by the entrance. One wonders if it was used in the futile defence of Kabaka Mutesa in 1966.

Kabaka Ronald Mutebi has always urged the Baganda to stop mourning. His call is for peace, reconciliation, unity and development, an apt tribute to those who lost their lives in 1966.

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