A family's search for a lost dad
Jun 07, 2005
A green metallic gate welcomes you to the four-roomed house surrounded by a perimeter wall. Inside this house, which is located three kilometres off Kajansi town, is a story of agony and tribulations — a story of perseverance, hope and faith.
By Arthur Baguma
A green metallic gate welcomes you to the four-roomed house surrounded by a perimeter wall. A maize garden, banana plantation and neat flower beds enhance the greenery from the lush lawns in the compound. Inside this house, which is located three kilometres off Kajansi town, is a story of agony and tribulations — a story of perseverance, hope and faith.
Donned in a green kitenge, an old woman emerges from the house. She has a humble look enhanced by short hair, which makes her look years younger than her age.
She leads us into a spacious living room and sits on a brown chair. Amidst silence, her four daughters join us.
They gaze sadly and each seems to be engulfed in deep thought. For a moment, they plunge into silence oblivious of our presence. The old woman bites her lower lip and crosses her hands as she struggles to speak out.
Hardly before saying a word, she breaks down as her children struggle to hold back their tears. The scene evokes fateful memories of Samuel Lubega Lugaggi, their father, who was kidnapped in 1981 and has never surfaced again since. My eyes stray around the room landing on a unique family photo hanging on the wall. Gertrude lubega, a clinical instructor at Mulago Nursing School and excuses herself only to come back with another photo.
She reels with pain unable to narrate the story that has given the family sleepless nights for decades. Gertrude hands me the photo before screaming out, “This is our wedding photo. He is the one... This is all we have of him. All we need is to know whether he is dead or alive. Some one out there must be knowing.â€
Lubega, her husband, disappeared mysteriously in 1981 and hopes of seeing him are fast waning. Is he dead or alive? — a question the family has failed to comprehend for 24 years now.
“One time, I thought he was going to come back home. Some people came to me and asked for his shoes and clothes claiming he had sent them. They never came back,†she says in a sad mood, wiping tears from her face.
December 17, 1981 started like a normal day at the home of Lubega in Masajja, Mengo.
After exchanging pleasantries with her husband, Gertrude left for work promising to see her husband later. Little did she know it was the last time they were seeing eye-to-eye. At about 1:00pm, Joseph Ngabo, one of the employees, showed up at Nsambya Police barracks, where Getrude worked as a nurse. They were frightened and trembling.
Lubega had been picked up by plain clothes security personnel and whisked away to an unknown destination. Lubega ran a popcorn-making business at his home and employed over 10 people.
“They signaled him in a friendly gesture, but when he approached them, they grabbed him in a mafia-style, bandled him in the car and drove off. It was a government car,†Ngabo told Gertrude.
Talk around Mengo then indicated that Lubega was a recruiter for the then guerillas of the National Resistance Army.
His business instantly collapsed. Employees fled as people kept a distance from the family for fear of being branded rebel collaborators.
“With help from the wife of the Inspector General of Police then, we searched all prisons for Lubega. We approached all his relatives and friends within the country and abroad, but never got wind of his whereabouts,†says Gertrude.
At the time of her father’s disappearance, Ruth Lubega was in P1 at Nakivubo Primary School. Her dad used to pick her from school, but on that fateful day, she waited for him in vain.
“I walked back home. The mood was unusual.
People stood in groups talking in low tones. The daughter of our neighbour told me my father had been kidnapped.
“My dad was a nice man. I don’t think any one would have anything against him... he loved us. He never used corporal punishment to discipline us,†she says.
Lubega was a hard working man in his late 30s. He supplied popcorn to many supermarkets in Kampala and Lugazi. He lost his father when he was a toddler.
Lubega hailed from Semuto Bulemezi in Luweero district, where the then NRA guerillas operated. He studied up to Senior three.
“He never told me he was a rebel collaborator, but his movements were suspicious.
“I would also hear rumours that he was recruiting guerillas for Museveni. But he kept it a secret from me,†Getrude says.
At 30, Gertrude would have got married again, but she opted to remain a widow and raise her eight children. She struggled to see them through school to a level, where they could all read and write.
“If I got married again, what would have happened to my children? Because of God’s grace I educated my children from my meagre earnings.
“Although only one finished university, educating my children to at least S6, is a miracle.â€
Lubega fathered 14 children. He had eight children with Gertrude.
A green metallic gate welcomes you to the four-roomed house surrounded by a perimeter wall. A maize garden, banana plantation and neat flower beds enhance the greenery from the lush lawns in the compound. Inside this house, which is located three kilometres off Kajansi town, is a story of agony and tribulations — a story of perseverance, hope and faith.
Donned in a green kitenge, an old woman emerges from the house. She has a humble look enhanced by short hair, which makes her look years younger than her age.
She leads us into a spacious living room and sits on a brown chair. Amidst silence, her four daughters join us.
They gaze sadly and each seems to be engulfed in deep thought. For a moment, they plunge into silence oblivious of our presence. The old woman bites her lower lip and crosses her hands as she struggles to speak out.
Hardly before saying a word, she breaks down as her children struggle to hold back their tears. The scene evokes fateful memories of Samuel Lubega Lugaggi, their father, who was kidnapped in 1981 and has never surfaced again since. My eyes stray around the room landing on a unique family photo hanging on the wall. Gertrude lubega, a clinical instructor at Mulago Nursing School and excuses herself only to come back with another photo.
She reels with pain unable to narrate the story that has given the family sleepless nights for decades. Gertrude hands me the photo before screaming out, “This is our wedding photo. He is the one... This is all we have of him. All we need is to know whether he is dead or alive. Some one out there must be knowing.â€
Lubega, her husband, disappeared mysteriously in 1981 and hopes of seeing him are fast waning. Is he dead or alive? — a question the family has failed to comprehend for 24 years now.
“One time, I thought he was going to come back home. Some people came to me and asked for his shoes and clothes claiming he had sent them. They never came back,†she says in a sad mood, wiping tears from her face.
December 17, 1981 started like a normal day at the home of Lubega in Masajja, Mengo.
After exchanging pleasantries with her husband, Gertrude left for work promising to see her husband later. Little did she know it was the last time they were seeing eye-to-eye. At about 1:00pm, Joseph Ngabo, one of the employees, showed up at Nsambya Police barracks, where Getrude worked as a nurse. They were frightened and trembling.
Lubega had been picked up by plain clothes security personnel and whisked away to an unknown destination. Lubega ran a popcorn-making business at his home and employed over 10 people.
“They signaled him in a friendly gesture, but when he approached them, they grabbed him in a mafia-style, bandled him in the car and drove off. It was a government car,†Ngabo told Gertrude.
Talk around Mengo then indicated that Lubega was a recruiter for the then guerillas of the National Resistance Army.
His business instantly collapsed. Employees fled as people kept a distance from the family for fear of being branded rebel collaborators.
“With help from the wife of the Inspector General of Police then, we searched all prisons for Lubega. We approached all his relatives and friends within the country and abroad, but never got wind of his whereabouts,†says Gertrude.
At the time of her father’s disappearance, Ruth Lubega was in P1 at Nakivubo Primary School. Her dad used to pick her from school, but on that fateful day, she waited for him in vain.
“I walked back home. The mood was unusual.
People stood in groups talking in low tones. The daughter of our neighbour told me my father had been kidnapped.
“My dad was a nice man. I don’t think any one would have anything against him... he loved us. He never used corporal punishment to discipline us,†she says.
Lubega was a hard working man in his late 30s. He supplied popcorn to many supermarkets in Kampala and Lugazi. He lost his father when he was a toddler.
Lubega hailed from Semuto Bulemezi in Luweero district, where the then NRA guerillas operated. He studied up to Senior three.
“He never told me he was a rebel collaborator, but his movements were suspicious.
“I would also hear rumours that he was recruiting guerillas for Museveni. But he kept it a secret from me,†Getrude says.
At 30, Gertrude would have got married again, but she opted to remain a widow and raise her eight children. She struggled to see them through school to a level, where they could all read and write.
“If I got married again, what would have happened to my children? Because of God’s grace I educated my children from my meagre earnings.
“Although only one finished university, educating my children to at least S6, is a miracle.â€
Lubega fathered 14 children. He had eight children with Gertrude.