The down-to-earth King Oyo turns 18 soon

Friends at school greet him with hugs and handshakes, but back home, subjects kiss his feet while sprawled before him on the ground, as if they were doing push ups, writes Faith Karimi–

At first glance, he looks like any other 17-year-old. He bobs his head to rapper Jay-Z, plays video games and reads the Twilight vampire books. When he’s not doing homework, he kicks a soccer ball in his backyard. Yet looks can be deceiving.

People in this corner of western Uganda know the young man as King Oyo, one of the world’s youngest ruling monarchs. The teen king rules over more than two million people in the Tooro kingdom, one of four kingdoms in Uganda that conjure images of pre-colonial Africa.

King Oyo lives for part of the year in a palace perched on a hill in Fort Portal, a place where bicycles stacked with bananas race past ramshackle huts in the shadow of a snow-capped mountain. He also has a palace in the bustling Ugandan capital, Kampala, where he studies at a private school while soldiers stand guard.

“I still find it a little uncomfortable when people bow, especially the older ones,” says the king, “My friends at school could not care less that I’m a king. They like me for who I am, not for what I am.”
King Oyo has worn the crown for as long as he can remember. He ascended to the throne aged three, after his father died in 1995. For his coronation, the toddler sat on a miniature throne and played with toys after a mock battle with a grown-up rebel prince. At one point, his majesty dashed from the throne to climb onto his mother’s lap. He also yanked off a lion-skin crown that was too heavy for his little head.

The next day, King Oyo attended a meeting with Cabinet members who were old enough to be his grandparents. Now he stands nearly six feet tall and looks much more regal. He sits on a throne draped with leopard skin and wears a royal robe of blue and gold, his cropped hair covered by a crown with a fluffy white tail.

“The first few years, I did not know what was going on,” he says. “I think I realised when I was about six that I really was king and my life was going to be different. I was going to have responsibilities toward a lot of people.” In addition to serving as the figurehead for members of the Batooro tribe, the king oversees efforts to raise money for projects involving such things as health and education. He implements programmes to boost cultural pride. He also helps oversee how his kingdom spends tax money that it gets from the Ugandan government.

The king makes major decisions with the help of regents and advisers. His mother, Queen Best Kemigisa, lives in the palace and works closely with him, though King Oyo will become the sole decision-maker when he turns 18 next week.

The job has its perks. Fawning subjects give him livestock and spears. He travels to meet world leaders. And teenage girls and young women flock to his palace for public events, though the king changes subjects like a veteran politician when asked whether he’s dating. “I can’t wait to see the new Twilight movie,” he says with a sly smile.

There are downsides. King Oyo travels with a security detail of military guards who also hover around his school. That makes it hard to blend into a crowd.

“At times, I’ll have things I want to do, but I can’t just get up and do them like ordinary teenagers do,” he says. “I can’t always do what I want because I have obligations.”

The monarchies are based on ethnicities, sparking concerns of a setback in national integration efforts, said Ndebesa Mwambutsya, a history professor at Makerere University in Kampala.

“Ugandans identify themselves first with their tribes and kingdoms, then as citizens,” he says. “This works in most African cultures because people have lost faith in the government, and tribes and kingdoms provide a nucleus around which an identity can be forged.”

Other African countries, such as Lesotho and Swaziland, also have kings. The king of Swaziland is famous for festivals at which scores of virgins dance for him, but King Oyo is sedate by contrast. He presides over a kingdom where time seems to have stopped.

This puts particularly strong pressure on a teenager who likes to hang out with his buddies from school and root for his favourite soccer team – Arsenal. So would he have chosen to be king? He pauses. “I’m not really sure if I can answer that question,” he says. “Being a king is not easy. Sometimes I wish I could just be ordinary.”

Story highlights
• Uganda outlawed kingdoms in 1967 to prevent conflict with central government
• President reinstated four kingdoms in 1990s on condition leaders focus more on culture
• King Oyo ascended to throne at age three after his father died in 1995
• King Oyo will become sole decision-maker when he turns 18 in April