NRM BUSH WAR MEMORIES: Risking all to avenge a brother's death - Col. Ggwanga

Col. Kasirye-Ggwanga’s recollection of the 1981-’86 war continues our Bush War Memories series. From his house in Makindye, Kampala, the former LC-V chairman of Mubende told his story to Bernard Tabaire & David Kibirige on May 25: -

I joined the bush war out of anger. After 1979, they took us [Amin soldiers] as prisoners of war. We were surprised because those exiled [Ugandans] who were with the Tanzanian army had sent messages that we shouldn’t run away because they needed us to start a new army. So we never ran away.

We surrendered our weapons here in Kampala after fighting a heavy fight. I was in Chui Battalion. I was commanding heavy mortars. I fought against Kikosi Maalum in Lukaya and we chased them up to Mpugwe – about 9 miles from Masaka. Then the Tanzanians again came – [with] Saba Saba. Most of our boys were not used to it.

[Anyway] I had already read about the Geneva Conventions. I knew when you were a POW there is nothing that can happen to you. So we surrendered. They told us that they were taking us for training. But we got suspicious when we got to Kyotera. That’s when they started undressing us. We had good shoes. They took them. We said, ‘Okay, if we are going for training why are they doing this to us?’

When we got to a prison in Bukoba [in Tanzania], we found some of our friends who had gone in first. After three days they shackled us – legs and arms. I told my friends we were in trouble. Most were so naïve. They said, no, no, no they are just shackling us for security. Security, my a***! They [the Tanzanians] drove us to the Indian Ocean into a prison called Maweni. We spent there one year and some 42 days.

Then in June 1980 they brought us back to Uganda. I was transferred to Kirinya (we were more than 1,600. From Tanzania we returned about 2,900. Only one person died there).

In Tanzania we were treated good. But when we got here, we used to eat maybe twice a week and people started dying. Everyday an average of nine people died. We said, ‘They are killing us. Why are they putting us here?’ We were young. I went to prison when I was 27 years old. [Yet] we were growing old, sick. We started getting really mad. We said this was unfair. We were just serving – like any other person in the army.

I joined the army in 1972 and trained in Bombo. I was posted to Kifaru Mechanised in Bondo, Arua. I never worked in central region. We in upcountry battalions never knew what was happening here – people being put in the boot. So we were asking people with us in prison, those who were in State Research, in the marines, ‘what were you doing here for Gods sake? Why do they hate us?’

It started after losing the [1979] war. People were shouting, agasajja ago bagatte. Then we started dying one by one. I don’t have friends here. All my friends died. They were not tough like me. I told them you got to work out every morning. That little food you eat should be assimilated. If you don’t work out, you just s*** it. They didn’t believe me. Like people say Kasirye is a mad person, is what happened – and they died! And I got out. We were released on October 7, 1981.

So here we were released with one trouser. I had a t-shirt with a cap given to me by the Red Cross and canvass shoes. Releasing us to where? To the wilderness! Like me I was working in the north (West Nile) when I went to war. All my property remained there. I never got nothing back. They gave us Shs 100.

They were taking us to district headquarters. I come from Mubende so they took me to Mubende. The next morning I arrived home in Katakala in Mityana. My parents made a party – slaughtered a bull and invited people. The UNLA soldiers came and ate most of the meat. I was there. Amin’s soldier. I couldn’t say anything!

Then I told my dad, ‘Look here father, I can’t stay here. I feel uncomfortable. These guys have known there is an Amin man who has been released from prison. Suppose they come back at night and pick me up? Let me go to Kampala.’

All the relatives were uncomfortable with us – having an Amin man in the house. When I got to Kampala a friend called Dan Kasule – he died recently – took me in at his home in Lungujja.

A brother is killed

I didn’t have any profession at training. Then a brother-in-law suggested that I go into maize milling. Being a smart person I had to do some research about maize milling. I came to Katwe. I talked to the people who were all looking white because of this unga thing. I stood and said, Oh Lord, from soldiering to maize milling! Why are you doing this to me?