Samuel “Sam” Oumo and Judith Namugenyi on their wedding day. PHOTO/COURTESY
For Samuel “Sam” Oumo and Judith Namugenyi, the week leading up to their wedding was meant to be a joyful whirlwind of final preparations, a time to savour the last moments of their engagement while surrounded by loved ones. Among the flurry of activities were their premarital counseling sessions at St. John’s Church in Nkumba, a quiet suburb near Entebbe.
These sessions, led by Rev. Can. Rocky Sendegeya and Mub. Julius Paul Muyaaka, were more than just a formality; they were spiritual anchors, grounding the couple in the sacredness of the covenant they were about to enter. Yet, after one such session, their carefully laid plans unraveled in a way they could never have anticipated.
The fateful stop
It was a typical Wednesday afternoon when the couple left the church, their hearts light with anticipation. “We realised we had not eaten all day,” Judith recalls. “So we decided to stop at S&S Restaurant in Nkumba for a quick meal before heading to Rubaga Hospital to visit friends who had just welcomed a baby.” What should have been a simple detour turned into a nightmare. Unknown to them, the junction near the restaurant had been declared a “red zone” by traffic police, with an impromptu checkpoint set up to crack down on what officers called “errant drivers.”
Samuel “Sam” Oumo and Judith Namugenyi. Sam shared memories and made fun of how he was sleeping on the floor. PHOTO/COURTESY
The signage, if any existed, was unclear, and many motorists, including Sam, found themselves ensnared in a dragnet of arbitrary arrests. “We took what we believed was a legal turn,” Sam explains. “But as we parked at the restaurant, an officer flagged us down. At first, I thought it would be the usual Ugandan routine, a warning, maybe a small ‘fine’ because we had not broken any real traffic laws.” But this was no ordinary stop.
Arrest and detention
Sam’s attempts to reason with the officers fell on deaf ears. Their demeanor was unyielding, their tone dismissive. Without explanation, a junior officer was ordered to take the wheel of Sam’s car and drive the couple to Entebbe Central Police Station. “Even as we drove there, I still believed it was a misunderstanding,” Sam says. “I thought we would pay a penalty and be released.” But reality inside the station was far harsher. Judith, who had initially stayed in the car, was called in to join Sam. What she saw shook her to the core. “Sam was being processed as a criminal; his belt, shoes, and personal items confiscated.
The cold efficiency of it all was terrifying. I had to remind myself not to panic,” she says, her voice trembling at the memory. For hours, they sat in a crowded waiting area, surrounded by other detainees; some resigned, others protesting their innocence. Each time they inquired about their case, the response was the same: “Be patient.” As evening approached, the officer in charge arrived and reviewed the list of detainees.
Samuel “Sam” Oumo and Judith Namugenyi on their wedding day. PHOTO/COURTESY
Judith’s heart sank when she saw Sam’s name printed among them. “The OC told me point-blank that Sam would spend the night in custody. He advised me to go home,” she recounts.
Breaking the news
Leaving the station that night was one of the hardest things Judith had ever done. “The whole drive home, I kept thinking, How do I explain this to our families? What do I tell the children?” she says. “I cried the entire way.” Their home, already filled with relatives who had travelled for the wedding, was abuzz with final preparations. Some guests had stayed on after the couple’s introduction ceremony just three days earlier. The contrast between the joyous atmosphere and the news she carried was crushing. When Judith finally shared what had happened, the room fell silent. Her father, a man of deep faith, pulled her aside. “This is not normal,” he said firmly. “This is the devil at work. We need to pray.” Without another word, he retreated to his bedroom, rosary in hand, and knelt in fervent prayer.
The fight for freedom
With the wedding just two days away, the family mobilised into action. Phone calls were made, favours called in, lawyers consulted. Sam’s sister, Sarah Kuboi Aguti, took charge, coordinating efforts to secure his release. “We were told this operation had orders from ‘high up,’” Sarah explains. “The message was clear; anyone arrested would be prosecuted and face at least six months in prison. No exceptions.” The financial strain was immediate. “Every meeting, every file request, every ‘facilitation fee’ drained our resources,” Sarah says.
“Most of our money was already tied up in wedding expenses, so family members stepped in to cover the unexpected costs.”
Samuel “Sam” Oumo and Judith Namugenyi. They kept their joy throughout the ceremony. PHOTO/COURTESY
Despite the chaos, Sarah refused to let the wedding preparations stall. “Service providers started calling, asking if the event was still on. To erase any doubts, I paid them in full. We had to keep moving forward, it was an act of faith.”
Judith’s defiance
As Thursday dragged on with no progress, Judith made a radical decision. If Sam could not leave jail in time, she would bring the wedding to him. She contacted the church and proposed holding the ceremony at the police station. When she shared her plan with the head of traffic, his response was blunt: “My daughter, cancel the wedding. It is too late for him to appear in court.” Judith’s reply was fiercer than she expected. “I told him, ‘This wedding will happen. If you have to bring him in handcuffs, then do it. Remove them long enough for us to say our vows, then take him back. But we will be married.’” The officer’s dismissive retort; “This wedding will not happen. You better cancel it” broke her. “That was the moment my faith wavered,” she admits. “I sobbed uncontrollably, feeling utterly powerless.”
Sam’s trial by fire
For Sam, the 48 hours in detention were a crucible. Stripped of his belongings and dignity, he clung to his faith and the image of Judith waiting for him. “The cell was cold, the floor hard, but I refused to let despair in,” he says. “I replayed our reverend’s words: ‘God does not abandon those He has called together.’” On Friday, he was finally taken to Entebbe Chief Magistrate Court. The proceedings were perfunctory, the outcome uncertain. Yet, at 2 p.m., against all odds, he was released.
A race against time
Sam rushed from the courtroom to the wedding venue, his mind racing. “I had not eaten properly in days. I had not shaved. I had not even held Judith’s hand,” he recalls. “But there was no time to dwell. I got a haircut, cleaned up, and tried to steady my nerves.” That night, as he reviewed his vows, the words took on new weight. “They were not just promises anymore; they were battle-tested truths.”
The wedding: A testament to resilience On Saturday morning, under a sky washed clean by overnight rain, Sam stood at the altar, his heart pounding. When Judith appeared, radiant in her gown, the trials of the past days melted away. “She was not just beautiful; she was strong,” Sam says. “We had faced down a storm and emerged unbroken.” As they exchanged vows, their voices never wavered. “I do” was no longer just a phrase, it was a declaration that love, faith, and divine timing could overcome even the cruelest of obstacles.
Reflections on a broken system
In the aftermath, Sam couldn not ignore the systemic injustice laid bare by his ordeal. “Singer Eddie Kenzo once sang about ‘volongoto’; the rot in our systems. This was it,” he says. “People were arrested over unclear signs, with no recourse. The system protects itself, not the people.” Yet, he also saw a higher purpose. “What felt like the devil’s attack was God’s protection? Maybe He shielded me from something worse.” Damali Asenkye, Sam’s sister, agrees. “At the time, I blamed the devil. Now, I see God’s hand in it all.” Dr John Etomet, Sam’s father, only learnt of the ordeal at the wedding. “My children shielded me to avoid panic,” he says. “As a father, I am proud. As a citizen, I am heartbroken, how many are imprisoned simply because they cannot pay?”
Love unshaken
Months later, the couple’s story remains a beacon of resilience. Their wedding album; filled with smiles, dancing, and unshaken joy betrays no hint of the struggle that preceded it. “The devil tried to steal our day,” Judith says, smiling. “But God rewrote the script.”
Sam and his organizing committee after 48 hours in detention. PHOTO/COURTESY
For Sam and Judith, marriage began not with ease, but with a trial by fire, one that proved no force on earth could keep them apart.
