Lugolobi’s crowning glory
May 09, 2008
HIS beard has made him a household name. From toddlers to maize-sellers, you only need to describe John Lugolobi’s beard to get directions to his home in Kazinga, Kasangati, just near Gayaza. Never mind that his mud and wattle house is cagily hidden in the middle of a little thick forest.
By Carol Natukunda
HIS beard has made him a household name. From toddlers to maize-sellers, you only need to describe John Lugolobi’s beard to get directions to his home in Kazinga, Kasangati, just near Gayaza. Never mind that his mud and wattle house is cagily hidden in the middle of a little thick forest.
Lugolobi doesn’t exactly remember the last time he shaved off his beard. It could have been about 40 years ago – during his puberty – since he faintly guesses it was sometime before the country even got its independence. He is now in his mid-60s or 70s.
“I was a teenager when I decided I should let it grow,†Lugolobi says, with an ear-piercing laugh. “You cannot cut a beard, or the hair. God gave them to us and we should leave them to grow.â€
And true to his word, this old man has let it grow into one long thick fur.
From far, it looks like a ragged black cloth hanging loosely from the moustache. Up-close, however, it’s a real beard – overgrown and untidy, with gray and brownish strands dangling on his chest. The beard is accentuated by his long hair. He was branded “jajja malevu or jajja Christmas,†by his villagemates.
“The beard is mine, the hair is mine. Even Jesus never shaved off his hair,†Lugolobi states.
As he talks, his broad mouth betrays his secret – he has no teeth left; yet, this is the same man who is known to love eating meat, the same way a cat loves feasting on mice.
“Meat is delicious; I know how I eat it,†he says, laughing, showing off the empty gum.
He has to be a lot m
ore careful when eating, lest the beard sweeps into his dish of soup. Unlike other village-mates who hold their plates close to their mouths, Lugolobi makes sure that his is at a distance.
In addition to his beard, Lugolobi is something of an oddity, even socially.
He leads a solitary life and his house is surrounded by many trees and shrubs. his closest neighbour is about 500m away. A sense of despair hangs around his home like a cloud of smoke. There are termite malls in one corner of his two-roomed house and two old mats which act as his beddings. The house is as dark as the night, has one door and no windows. In his compound is a fireplace, which he calls his kitchen.
He has no family, although he believes it’s never too late to marry.
Lugolobi greets every visitor with suspicion. “Are you from Mengo or from the Government?†he asked when we approached his home. “How did you find out about me? who directed you here?â€
It was after we explained that we were from the media that he loosened up, in hope that we would highlight his concerns.
With the land question at hand, Lugolobi fears the central government could be massively buying land in the villages and selling it to the foreign investors, while at the same time the Buganda government feels all land belongs to the Kabaka.
Lugolobi believes the government could easily have its eye on his only piece of land, which makes him suspicious of anyone who tries to get too close. “Look,†he says, pointing to the fenced plots surrounding his home, “I almost have no way to my home. All the little patches have been bought; I don’t know whether they expect me to fly into my house!â€
In fact, Lugolobi is known to be passionate about any issue concerning land. Whether it is a debate in a bar or in a workshop, he will easily find his way there to air his views.
Luckily, he has an old bicycle, which he rides to every corner of the village.
Many people interviewed in Kasangati said Lugolobi grew his beard to protest the downfall of Kabaka Muteesa II, while others say he will grow it until the land wrangles are sorted out by the government. Lugolobi dismisses these allegations as false. “Isn’t this our land? Can land really be grabbed?†he asks.
He is also one informed old man, although, he does not own a radio. However, he is always strolling through the village to catch up on the latest political gossip.
Occasionally, he asks whether it is true that Bukedde (The New Vision’s sister paper)will be launching a radio and the next he is asking why African leaders want to stick to power. “Look at Robert Mugabe, Kenya’s Kibaki and so on. Why don’t they leave?â€
Lugolobi was born in a family of five to Kiiza Kasiruvu and Butijuma Namatovu. His parents and three of his siblings died, leaving two toddlers - Lugolobi and his young sister. Life wasn’t easy. Lugolobi remembers that one time, a mad man set their house ablaze.
“We were sleeping, but we managed to flee before we got burnt. Unfortunately, our bags of cotton, which we had just harvested, were all burnt,†he recalls. His sister married and left him alone on the plot, where he has lived to date. He makes a living by selling a tree or two from his little forest or by the sheer generosity of good samaritans.
He would rather not disclose why he decided to lead a single life, but he believes he will sweep a “miss right†off her feet one day, after he builds a better house. Only, she must be ready to tolerate his beard and his two long toenails. “I cannot cut off what God gave me,†he stresses again.
HIS beard has made him a household name. From toddlers to maize-sellers, you only need to describe John Lugolobi’s beard to get directions to his home in Kazinga, Kasangati, just near Gayaza. Never mind that his mud and wattle house is cagily hidden in the middle of a little thick forest.
Lugolobi doesn’t exactly remember the last time he shaved off his beard. It could have been about 40 years ago – during his puberty – since he faintly guesses it was sometime before the country even got its independence. He is now in his mid-60s or 70s.
“I was a teenager when I decided I should let it grow,†Lugolobi says, with an ear-piercing laugh. “You cannot cut a beard, or the hair. God gave them to us and we should leave them to grow.â€
And true to his word, this old man has let it grow into one long thick fur.
From far, it looks like a ragged black cloth hanging loosely from the moustache. Up-close, however, it’s a real beard – overgrown and untidy, with gray and brownish strands dangling on his chest. The beard is accentuated by his long hair. He was branded “jajja malevu or jajja Christmas,†by his villagemates.
“The beard is mine, the hair is mine. Even Jesus never shaved off his hair,†Lugolobi states.
As he talks, his broad mouth betrays his secret – he has no teeth left; yet, this is the same man who is known to love eating meat, the same way a cat loves feasting on mice.
“Meat is delicious; I know how I eat it,†he says, laughing, showing off the empty gum.
He has to be a lot m
ore careful when eating, lest the beard sweeps into his dish of soup. Unlike other village-mates who hold their plates close to their mouths, Lugolobi makes sure that his is at a distance.
In addition to his beard, Lugolobi is something of an oddity, even socially.
He leads a solitary life and his house is surrounded by many trees and shrubs. his closest neighbour is about 500m away. A sense of despair hangs around his home like a cloud of smoke. There are termite malls in one corner of his two-roomed house and two old mats which act as his beddings. The house is as dark as the night, has one door and no windows. In his compound is a fireplace, which he calls his kitchen.
He has no family, although he believes it’s never too late to marry.
Lugolobi greets every visitor with suspicion. “Are you from Mengo or from the Government?†he asked when we approached his home. “How did you find out about me? who directed you here?â€
It was after we explained that we were from the media that he loosened up, in hope that we would highlight his concerns.
With the land question at hand, Lugolobi fears the central government could be massively buying land in the villages and selling it to the foreign investors, while at the same time the Buganda government feels all land belongs to the Kabaka.
Lugolobi believes the government could easily have its eye on his only piece of land, which makes him suspicious of anyone who tries to get too close. “Look,†he says, pointing to the fenced plots surrounding his home, “I almost have no way to my home. All the little patches have been bought; I don’t know whether they expect me to fly into my house!â€
In fact, Lugolobi is known to be passionate about any issue concerning land. Whether it is a debate in a bar or in a workshop, he will easily find his way there to air his views.
Luckily, he has an old bicycle, which he rides to every corner of the village.
Many people interviewed in Kasangati said Lugolobi grew his beard to protest the downfall of Kabaka Muteesa II, while others say he will grow it until the land wrangles are sorted out by the government. Lugolobi dismisses these allegations as false. “Isn’t this our land? Can land really be grabbed?†he asks.
He is also one informed old man, although, he does not own a radio. However, he is always strolling through the village to catch up on the latest political gossip.
Occasionally, he asks whether it is true that Bukedde (The New Vision’s sister paper)will be launching a radio and the next he is asking why African leaders want to stick to power. “Look at Robert Mugabe, Kenya’s Kibaki and so on. Why don’t they leave?â€
Lugolobi was born in a family of five to Kiiza Kasiruvu and Butijuma Namatovu. His parents and three of his siblings died, leaving two toddlers - Lugolobi and his young sister. Life wasn’t easy. Lugolobi remembers that one time, a mad man set their house ablaze.
“We were sleeping, but we managed to flee before we got burnt. Unfortunately, our bags of cotton, which we had just harvested, were all burnt,†he recalls. His sister married and left him alone on the plot, where he has lived to date. He makes a living by selling a tree or two from his little forest or by the sheer generosity of good samaritans.
He would rather not disclose why he decided to lead a single life, but he believes he will sweep a “miss right†off her feet one day, after he builds a better house. Only, she must be ready to tolerate his beard and his two long toenails. “I cannot cut off what God gave me,†he stresses again.