Based on extensive interviews with relatives and friends who lost people in the two-day protests last November, triggered by the arrest of presidential candidate Robert Kyagulanyi Ssentamu, The Observer offers a comprehensive look at how two bullets fatally ended two lives of happy breadwinners and destroyed their families.
At about 5pm on a chilly, mildly cloudy evening of November 18, Peter Kintu, 40, had a very late lunch. After the meal, Kintu remained in the living room of his two-room house in Nansana, a Kampala suburb, in a zone commonly known as Kibulooka.
Kintu was playing with his nine-year-old son Oscar and chatting up his wife, Maureen Nakazibwe, who was outside on the veranda. Soon, Kintu decided to take a 10-metre walk to the roadside, to enjoy the quiet calm after protests, triggered earlier by the arrest of the National Unity Platform Presidential aspirant, Robert Kyagulanyi Ssentamu (Bobi Wine), were violently put down by police and the army.
Kintu walked straight to a welding workshop, which showcases an array of its finely made metal works; gates, windows and doors. Kintu leaned on the finished metal items and watched people walk past him. The chaos appeared to have subsided. Then two armed Local Defense Unit (LDU) officers walked towards him; Kintu did not mind them, until one of them kicked him.
Robinah Nankya (not real name), Kintu's neighbour, said; "I was standing by, when I saw this LDU kick him. There were other men, who work at the metal workshop, who were just a few steps from Kintu. The LDU shouted at them, asking why they were standing there. They replied that it was their workplace."
But the LDU man, who appeared angry for some reason, ordered them to leave the place. No sooner had he shouted at them, than he shot in the air. Everyone scampered in panic. Nankya, however, told The Observer, that the LDU officer pursued Kintu, who was walking slowly back to his house just around the corner.
Nankya said she was shocked to see the LDU officer walk hurriedly towards Kintu, point the gun at his cheekbone and fire instantly. The LDU officer quickly returned to the roadside and his partner asked him why he had fired. The killer, according to Nankya, simply told his colleague: "Let us go!"
Meanwhile, Kintu had fallen by his doorstep while holding his gunshot wound, silent, although he was jerking, as he bled profusely.
At the time, his wife was screaming for help while the son was calling on his father: "Daddy talk. Daddy do not die. Daddy say something."
Kintu's wife and son ran with his body to the middle of the road and waved down a JJ Medical centre ambulance, hoping to get him to Mulago hospital. Ironically, just moments earlier, Kintu had seen the sunset for the final time. Kintu was driven to Mulago but he had already died, according to his friend Musa Mivule (not real name).
The deceased's wife Nakazibwe said they were momentarily startled when Nansana Police stopped them from receiving Kintu's body the following day from the mortuary.
"They instead took his body to the Nansana police station, something I found odd," Nakazibwe said.
Nakazibwe suspects that the police probably took her late husband's body to remove the bullet in order to eliminate any evidence of culpability. Police roundly disputed all public accounts of the circumstances leading to Kintu's death.
Getting justice for Kintu's death is high on Nakazibwe's agenda but she doubts she will be successful since she believes police is bent on covering up.
Yet, nothing fills Nakazibwe with more despair than the fact that whoever killed Kintu, has robbed her son Oscar of his future: "My son is suffering horribly. He is haunted by the death of his father; they were close friends. Every evening, he cries, recalling the moments he shared with his father, reflecting on the times he returned home and gave him a ride on the motorcycle."
Besides that, Kintu left behind ten other children with different mothers, and all will need care. Nakazibwe told The Observer, that although her hubby did not have a lot to o er, he was a wonderful man who shouldered his responsibilities in his own simple way.
Kintu, apparently, provided the basics for the well-being of his family. In fact, according to Nakazibwe, plans were already underway for Kintu to build a home and get all his 11 children under one roof. Now, that has hit a dead end. First of all, Nakazibwe has no substantive job. The liquid soap she makes was distributed by her slain husband.
Nakazibwe is not only distraught, but also disoriented. The house rent and her son's school fees are all her responsibilities now. In addition, the boda boda Kintu used to ride was not his.
The owner actually took it. She said: "When I look at the forthcoming elections, I am not interested. True, I am NRM, but my life and that of my son have been messed up now."
All that is left is keeping Kintu's memory alive. Incidentally, Kintu's favourite musician was the late Lucky Dube, also killed in a street shooting. And Kintu's Lucky Dube favourite song, which he played every time he returned home was, Remember Me, according to his son. It is a song with a litany of emotion. The opening stanza goes: Daddy wherever you are, remember me.
WILLY KAYONDO SHOT IN THE HEAD
Unlike Oscar, who is a troubled child now, Willy Kayondo's four-month-old child doesn't even know that his father died. Yet, what cannot be disputed is the fact that their future has been robbed from them.
Their father Kayondo was reportedly shot dead in Wandegeya (Ku Bbiri), as he returned home. Kayondo used to work in a carpentry workshop at Ku Bbiri.
And after the protests ended, Kayondo, 28, told his colleagues, including John Musoke (not real name), that if you have loved ones at home, you are better o going to them. Kayondo crossed the road to head home. But as he walked, eyewitnesses said an army patrol pickup from Wandegeya driving on the wrong side of the road carried soldiers shooting indiscriminately.
Kayondo was shot in the head and fell in front of a small Muslem prayer space, called Mazigidi Bitamizi. He did not reach his home in Kazo. His was an instant death. The bullet hit the back of the head and went through his forehead. And a bright light was ended.
His younger brother, Allan Mawanda, 20, who he had introduced to carpentry work three months ago told The Observer, "In February, we lost our mother. But by and large, Kayondo was the benefactor of his father's entire household, including his siblings. He has been building a home in the village (Mawokota) for the family, so that the old house does not collapse on us."
Yet, as things stand, Mawanda feels their lives have caved in, now that Kayondo is gone. His workmates said, Kayondo was such a resourceful character, and a born survivor. He beat the odds to make a living. He left behind two wives: one with a baby, and the other eight months pregnant.
jovi@observer.ug
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