Angry response to fire at Kasubi

A man wearing a rosary was seen praying against one of the pillars inside the concrete skeleton, while another was seen sobbing as he cited the names of some of Buganda’s greatest kings. The idea that Mr Museveni, whose relationship with Buganda has suffered terribly in recent times, planned to visit the place seemed to get the protesters even more upset.

Gunfire rocked Kasubi on Wednesday when protestors attempted to block President Museveni’s entry. But there was no clear winner, reports Rodney Muhumuza.

Thousands of people climbed Kasubi hill to view what remained of Buganda’s royal tombs the morning after a mysterious fire destroyed the historic structure. Most of them did not like what they saw. Yet they also could not stop looking at it.
The scene was unmistakable.
Gone was the dome-shaped edifice that housed the remains of four of Buganda’s kings. In its place was a concrete skeleton, the metallic girdles that once supported the glorious hut bending painfully into it. A smoky scent still dominated the air, now cursed by the cries of grandmothers and the rants of men bitter that something so tragic could happen to the tombs.

Taking cover
Clutching a pitchfork, the tool he was using to clear the debris from last night, Muhammad Kasumba, 68, rushed for cover when gunfire suddenly rocked the precincts of the tombs as security personnel battled protesters to pave way for the arrival of President Museveni.
“Let us go somewhere in that house,” he said, pointing to a decrepit house not too far from the site of the royal tombs. “We have nothing to do. We are powerless to do anything. We don‘t have guns.”

Mr Kasumba seemed to speak for all the angry people at the tombs yesterday, men and women who had decided they were now in a kind of war. Most of them would duck when they heard the menacing sound of gunfire, but they would stand tall when it stopped, ready to say something tough. Then, after the gunfire seemed to subside, news spread that at least three people had been shot, one of them taking a bullet in the stomach.

Among the mourners, including young boys and their fathers, there was a sense of disbelief that the royal tombs, the pride of Buganda and a reliable source of income for the kingdom, were no more. More disturbing than the loss of the tombs was the loss of what they really represented: the endurance of a culture that puts incredibly high premium on the adoration of its forbears. “You can replace the building but you cannot replace the artifacts,” said Judith Nambasa, 36, who had joined Mr Kasumba inside the abandoned house.

Richard Kasimbazi, 32, was resting on a thick stick pinned firmly into the ground when Daily Monitor approached him to ask what the loss meant to him. His hands dirty, after hours spent cleaning the mess from the night of the inferno, Mr Kasimbazi hesitated, perhaps to think through his response, and then said: “This is Buganda.” In his view, it was as if the whole of Buganda had been lost in an instant, gone with the smoke, and its children now left to hang onto burnt mats carried from inside the tombs, the ugly remnants of the devastation. “This is hate,” the man said. “I have never seen anything quite like this. Why did they have to burn the dead?”

Even as the authorities said investigations into the fire were only starting, most of these men and women seemed to have decided they did not need anyone to tell them what happened. In any case, what should have been a crime scene was now the home of grief punctuated by chaos. It was impossible to underestimate their fury. The fire was the work of an arsonist, someone who hated Buganda so much, they said.

A man wearing a rosary was seen praying against one of the pillars inside the concrete skeleton, while another was seen sobbing as he cited the names of some of Buganda’s greatest kings. The idea that Mr Museveni, whose relationship with Buganda has suffered terribly in recent times, planned to visit the place seemed to get the protesters even more upset.

Final act
When they could not stop his arrival, which happened around noon, they contrived one last act of defiance that was as spectacular as it was revealing. The men rushed inside the structure and planted bamboo shoots around it, enough so that the only thing Mr Museveni could do was tour the structure from outside. When one of the loud protestors hurled insults at Mr Museveni from close range, a man in army regalia backed the offender down and beat him up. In protest, another man suddenly hurled his body into the ground, kicked the mud like a possessed man, and cried hysterically. He was ignored.

Mr Museveni’s short tour over, he walked quickly out of the precincts as security officials fought off reporters and everyone else. The first son, Kainerugaba Muhoozi, walked a respectable distance behind his father. In full military attire, Lt. Col. Muhoozi had a pistol on his hip and an AK-47 in his hand.