How Nkutu's murder killed the EAC

Charles Etukuri

When soldiers surrounded him on January 11, 1973 and ordered him to come out of his supermarket, former minister Shaban Nkutu made a farewell phone call to a friend, asking her to take care of his family. He then opened the door and was bundled into a waiting car, writes

Early morning on January 25, 1971, Shaban Nkutu, who was the then Minister of Works, Housing, Transport and Communications, was driving into Kampala from Jinja. Unknown to him, the government of Milton Obote had been overthrown.

As he entered Kampala, at Lugogo, soldiers opened fire on him, deflating his tyres. He got out, together with his driver and bodyguard, and took cover. He walked to Jinja Road Police Station to report what he thought was a robbery. There, a Police officer from his con­stituency advised him to go into hiding immediately.

President Apollo Million Obote unveiling a plaque to mark the laying of the foundation stone of the National Housing Corporation flats at Bugolobi, as Nkutu cheers

A few days later, Idi Amin asked all for­mer ministers to come out of hiding and report to his office, saying they would be safe. Nkutu was immediately arrested and detained at Makindye Military Police Barracks for several months. Ambas­sadors of Arab countries used their reli­gious influence to lobby president Amin, who was a Muslim, for Nkutu’s release from prison. Nkutu was a paternal uncle to Amin’s wife, Mama Maryamu and her brother Wanume Kibedi, whom Amin had appointed foreign minister. This could also have put pressure on Amin to release him.

At a reception hosted by the Ministry of Culture and Community Development for Prince Sadrudin Aga Khan, U.N. High Commissioner for Refugees,(L-R) Nkutu Health minister, Vice President, J. Babiha, Prince and C. Katiti, Culture and Community Development Minister.

On leaving Makindye later that year, Nkutu retreated to a quiet life of private business and refused to flee into exile, despite repeated threats and harassment from military and intelligence personnel. The Madhvani family even offered to fly him out of Uganda via their private airfield, but he declined.

In early January 1973, at Baitambogwe (half-way between Jinja and Iganga), Nkutu told a secret meeting of his brothers that if he went into exile, Amin would retaliate by killing his relatives. He argued that he would rather die than endanger any of his relatives. Nkutu, aged 42, was abducted and murdered less than a week later. He was buried at a secret location for the next 31 years, until the incredible opportunity that brought his family in contact with the grave-diggers who buried his body.

Witness’ Account

Nkutu’s nephew, Twaha Magala, ( now an Iganga businessman) breaks down in tears as he recalls the events on January 11, 1973:

I was at uncle’s supermarket on Scind­ia Road in Jinja with my brother Ahmada Basalirwa and uncle’s driver Abdul Mu­loyiva. Uncle had left the supermarket to eat at a nearby restaurant. We realised later that soldiers had been trailing him in a white Peugeot 504 and a blue Volkswagen. There was commotion at the restaurant from which uncle Nkutu emerged struggling desperately with five gun-wielding men, who wanted to put him in the boot of one of their cars.

Abdul, Ahmada and I fought them off while raising an alarm. This at­tracted dozens of passers-by and people from nearby shops. We overpowered the soldiers and uncle dashed into the supermarket and locked himself in. A large crowd gathered, but the soldiers opened fire, sending people scampering for cover.

Abdul and I were arrested by the sol­diers and driven away, while some of the abductors remained behind outside the supermarket with uncle locked inside. One of them suggested killing us but the others decided to take us to Jinja Central Police Station.

The soldiers told the Police officers that they had caught us robbing Shaban Nkutu’s supermarket and ordered them to detain us. Meanwhile, uncle repeated­ly phoned the Police station to report the attempted abduction and to appeal for his rescue as the abductors were waiting at the door. We could hear one side of the conversation, with the policeman claiming they had no vehicle  which was ridiculous considering the short distance to Scindia Road.”

After about half an hour, the soldiers who had arrested us went to Gadaffi Barracks and returned with a larger contingent, commanded by the Military Intelligence Officer, Captain Issa Habib Galungbe, whom we knew. He feigned ignorance of the incident and asked the Police what the commotion was all about. The policemen were afraid to go to the supermarket because civilians had already reported that it involved soldiers. Habib ordered the policemen to follow  him and left for Scindia Road in a convoy of about four vehicles filled with soldiers.

Uncle later told us that on arrival, the Police commander knocked on the door, identi­fied himself and asked him to open it. The crowd was shout­ing to him that his abductors had returned with the Police and he remained in a dilemma for a while but realised he could not remain locked inside indefinitely.

He made a farewell call to a family friend, Sarah Kisukye, then working at the Bank of Uganda and informed her that he was headed for his death and asked her to assist auntie Christine Nkutu and their children. He then opened the door and was taken to the Police station, where he found us under arrest. He pleaded for our release in vain.

Captain Habib told the Police they could not secure Shaban Nkutu from the people who had tried to abduct him and that uncle should be re­leased to the army for custody at Gadaffi Barracks. Uncle thanked us for fighting for his life, but we all agreed we now faced imminent death.

At the barracks, uncle was interrogated and asked, ironi­cally, why he had not reported the gunfire at his supermarket to the army! Meanwhile, after being tortured, orders were given for us to be taken to the barracks dispensary for medical treatment. We last saw uncle alive in the office of the commanding officer. I cannot recall his name, but Capt. Habib was there with him. We were the last family members to see him alive.

We were later dumped at the roundabout near the po­lice station and ordered to go home. We returned to uncle’s Jinja home at Rippon Gardens, where we found his brother, Haji Musufulu Dhakaba, whom we briefed about our fears that uncle faced death. He told us that our cousin, Kirunda Kivejinja, had made frantic efforts to phone his cousin, foreign minister Wanume Kibedi, to intervene but had failed to get hold of him. Kibedi was reportedly abroad at the time.

The entire household stayed up all night in a state of fear. At dawn, we went to uncle’s Busesa home in Iganga and informed Mama Norah Nkutu about our fear. Together with auntie Norah, we came back to Jinja immediately and met the district commissioner, Mr Kakuyo, whom we asked for help. He rang Gadaffi Bar­racks, but failed to get in touch with the commanding officer.

We later met the command­er at Crested Crane Hotel, but he quickly claimed he had freed uncle the previous night. At 1:00pm that day, Radio Uganda announced that for­mer cabinet minister, Shaban Nkutu, had been found with documents implicating him in guerrilla activity and that he had fled to Tanzania to join Obote, and that anybody with information leading to his ar­rest would be rewarded.

About two days later, we heard that uncle’s body had been found floating at the Source of River Nile. I arrived there before a crowd formed. I found his body floating face-down by the river bank and confirmed his clothing and identity. I saw his face.

Word spread very fast, causing the Police and army to swing into action. They blocked civilians from coming close to the body, which they took away under heavy armed escort.

I was informed that I was now a wanted person and was being hunted for by security operatives as a witness who could identify the killers. I fled to Kampala and went into hiding. Auntie Christine was in Nairobi when uncle was murdered, but she came back after things cooled down a little. I was only 19 years old and totally terrified. Uncle was a very important person in the country and I could not believe that he had been abducted, murdered and dumped in River Nile.

As a family, we were terri­fied and not a single funeral rite could be held for uncle Shaban. Shops closed in Jinja town when word about what had happened spread. A few of us went to uncle’s ancestral home village at Nakibembe and informed his father, Ausi Kirunda, father to my mum. He went to his bedroom and wept alone in hiding.

He quickly went to the State Lodge in Nakasero to ask president Amin for his son’s body. In Dar es Salaam, former president Milton Obote reported Nkutu’s murder to all African heads of state in writ­ing and the killing was widely reported in the international media. Tanzania’s president Julius Nyerere, whose govern­ment had worked with Nkutu on many East African transport and infrastructure projects, vowed never to acknowledge Amin in summit meetings of the East African Commu­nity. Later, the East African Community collapsed due to tensions between Amin and Nyerere.

As pressure mounted, Amin gave orders for the secret disposal of the body. Nkutu was buried and registered in the cemetery records as “an unknown person” without the knowledge of his family. The grave-diggers conducted the burial at gun-point and were threatened with death if they revealed what they knew. They held their secret for 31 years.

At the time of the murder, Kibedi was in Ghana and when he confirmed the killing, he resigned as foreign minister and went into exile. The murder of Nkutu also took its toll on the marriage between Amin and the First Lady, Mama Maryamu, who fled the country.