SIR Apollo Kaggwa’s country house is coming up with age.<br>Perched up on a hill in Manyangwa, Gayaza (21 km from Kampala), once the pride of his family and a status symbol in the late 1880s, the castle has lost its glamour.
By Raphael Okello
SIR Apollo Kaggwa’s country house is coming up with age. Perched up on a hill in Manyangwa, Gayaza (21 km from Kampala), once the pride of his family and a status symbol in the late 1880s, the castle has lost its glamour.
The 16-room bungalow is an aging relic whose façade is crumbling. And the physical structure may follow the same destiny. But even in its fragility the building remains an object of intrigue; the enormity and interior design reflect affluence in years gone by.
Children run past a woman weaving a basket. Even under a jackfruit tree, where Kaggwa’s 90-year-old granddaughter, Samali Nakimera is sitting, the heat is intense. She is amused to know that I have taken interest in her grandfather’s house.
But this is not just an old house waiting to fall. It is an architectural masterpiece sitting on a 100 by 50 ft rock foundation.
A vertical corridor dissects the bungalow into two halves, each side having eight dark and stuffy rooms.
Their roughcast finished white walls are stained with soot and dirt. A horizontal corridor, flanked on either side by locked rooms, meets the vertical corridor in the centre.
Only two of the rooms are open. There is a bed in one and dishes and cooking utensils litter the smooth floor of the other. Each room has wooden windows and two wooden doors. The ceiling is made of elephant grass stems bound together by banana fibres. Nakimera can’t recall when Sir Apollo Kaggwa, who was katikkiro of Buganda (1888 - 1925), built the house.
“We only moved here in 1927 after he died,†recalls Nakimera who was, then, 15 years old.
However, Albert Katende, the caretaker, says it was built between 1890 and 1898, making it older than the nearby All Saints Church, which Kaggwa constructed in 1903.
The interior evokes an eerie feeling and the exterior is less flattering. The roughcast is peeling off, exposing baked bricks. The extensive foundation of huge rocks is slowly succumbing to erosion and the flight of stairs is crushed. All four sides have porches. The corroded brown iron sheets look a tad strong.
The decrepit house still reflects Kaggwa’s flamboyant history and envied personality. He was the chief regent chosen to guide the young Kabaka Daudi Chwa II in 1899 after the British deported Kabaka Mwanga.
Kaggwa was also a major signatory during the 1900 Agreement that declared Uganda a British protectorate. And in 1902, during his visit to England Kaggwa became the first African to be knighted.
His travelling companion and secretary Ham Mukasa wrote in his book, Uganda’s Katikkiro in England, that Kaggwa had over 19 children. These begot many descendants of Kaggwa but, unfortunately, Nakimera is the only descendant staying in the house together with her tenants.
Nakimera says Kaggwa didn’t install electricity in the house because his son, Michael Kaggwa, told him it was dangerous.
Although it is widely known that Kaggwa fell ill in Nairobi and died, Nakimera believes the British had a hand in his death.
In the past Kaggwa’s descendants used to commemorate the day he was buried on February 21, every year. The day was always one of festivity, where there was plenty to eat and drink. The mausoleum and graves of Kaggwa, his wife and nine of his children used to be painted.
However, for the last four years, the function has not been held. When I visited the place only four days to the day, there was no sign of gaiety.
The graves were covered with dust and bird droppings. Nakimera, some children from the neighbourhood and I were the only souls in a compound.
The inscriptions on Kaggwa’s tombstone, Knight Commander of St Michael and St. George (KCMG), Member of the British Empire (MBE) and SSM, are flamboyant titles that died with him.