When I picked up the latest literary product of the Uganda People’s Defence Forces (UPDF), The Best Army Doesn’t Wear Kilts, I did not know what to expect. The book’s author, Dr Opiyo Oloya is well known for his writing prowess as a newspaper columnist writing the Letter from Toronto in the New Vision for close to 30 years.
I could not wait to see what he had done with the book. First impressions count. From the hard book cover designed in army greens to the glossy pages and fine print of the book, UPDF clearly picked the finest printers for the job. The book was published by Helion and Company Limited in England. Fittingly, the cover design was done by Paul Lewitt from Battlefield Designs.
If it is nothing else, the book is a piece of fine writing. In the opening, Oloya gives us the imagery of 19 men retiring and suitably recognised as UPDF generals marching from State House Entebbe into the night to the tune of a military band in 2019.
This, he juxtaposes with the picture of the King’s African Rifles in January 1919, returning as enlisted African men, marching into Bombo Military barracks after the First World War, to the tune of a drums and bugle band but playing their part in a victory that did not belong to them because, unlike the UPDF, nobody recognised the efforts of African men in the armies of old.
In this story, the UPDF, originally the Popular Resistance Army (PRA) and later the National Resistance Army (NRA) equates itself—at least in the eyes of its leaders—to any Fortune 500 company such as McDonald's, Amazon, X or Facebook, which started as bold ideas and grew into profitable ventures. The PRA band, the author writes, had a leader with a dream.
The story is about the vision of one man—Yoweri Museveni. This book's foreword is written by the Commander-in-chief of the UPDF, Gen Yoweri K. Museveni. No surprises there. The author acknowledges the key contributions of the Chief of Defence Forces, Gen Muhoozi Kainerugaba and his predecessors. In the book, the story of the men who launched the liberation struggle with 27 guns is retold in colour. The introduction to this episode of the attack on Kabamba Military Barracks in February 1981, is reminiscent of the opening of another finely written book, Dinner with Mugabe, which opens with a dissident having a kind of last supper at the house of a collaborator, before vanishing into the night to launch an armed struggle. The Best Army Doesn’t Wear Kilts has that same pace, only that the events of Kabamba are way more vividly described.
The narration of the story makes it seem like all the UPDF has needed all these years was a good storyteller because there was no shortage of stories to tell.
Oloya brings the armed struggle to life in his very descriptive accounts that you cannot help but picture the formidable obstacles, the jungles, the enemy fire and the efforts to marshal logistics for the ambitious project that the Bush war turned out to be. When Gen Elly Tumwine (RIP) is left behind by colleagues and forced to jog many kilometres alone in the night, the reader cannot help but be there with him every step of the way.
The author uses key characters in the beginning to drive the story home. You will find many names of fighters you recognise. What the book does is to place each fighter in their place—where they were when important events happened and what they did at that material time.
The book is built around the UPDF’s 10 lessons for building a successful organisation. Each chapter in the book is based on one of those lessons; The Present Leader; Drink from the Well of History; Success recruits Success; Discipline is the Difference; Brand for Success; Stay Principled in War; Own Mistakes and Make Over; Honour the three Es—Education, Education, Education’; Empower Field Officers and Showcase Your Best.
Fittingly, the first chapter is about the ever-present leader, and the story comes alive with the planning and execution of the raid on the Kabamba military barracks. The role of this guy, mostly referred to as ‘The Leader’, is well illustrated in the elaborate planning, the missteps and the small victories of that February day in 1981.
If you read the book, you will discover that there was a kind of Trojan horse trick involved in the strategy of the Popular Resistance Army—as they were first known—during the move to capture Kabamba military barracks. You will also learn exactly what Gen Jeje Odong was doing at Kabamba that morning.
Rich in history
In subsequent chapters, the author keeps switching gears, at one point delving into historical wrongs committed by Uganda’s colonial governors who discriminated against native fighters in the King’s African Rifles, neglecting to promote them, underpaying them and keeping them divided according to ethnicity, among other things. When it comes to research, Dr Oloya has outdone himself by delving into historical records—letters exchanged between colonial administrators, troops, local leaders and more. The book is rich with oft-unseen archives.
While we are often told of the Ugandan and East African fighters who set off to fight on behalf of their colonial masters, not much is said of those who did not make it back from the overseas battles in the Second World War. The author goes on to bring us familiar local names of fallen soldiers. It feels as fresh as if it were yesterday.
The writer eases us into the rise of Idi Amin Dada, from his early days as a poor, illiterate but highly athletic recruit, through the years, to the dictator he eventually became, and all the history in between.
At this point, we know where the story is going. Illiteracy wins over literacy in the promotion of soldiers from the ranks of the King’s African Rifles; tribalism wins over nationalism and one uneducated soldier from Koboko in Uganda rises as more educated colleagues are passed over.
On the eve of Uganda’s independence in 1962, the illiterate Idi Amin is elevated to deputy commander of the Uganda Rifles, a seemingly mundane development which later determines the course of the country’s history—a descent into decades of economic and political instability, frequent coups, civil war and thousands of deaths, with turmoil escalating from 1966 to 1986.
Building a military archive
If you opt to skip right to the picture pages in the centre of the book, you will find them rich too. After sitting down with the author, I know that the detailed photo captions of all those key figures in UPDF and servicemen in the field did not come easy. You need to see the captions to believe them. That kind of attention to detail is absent even in some media publications.
Many of the photos are listed as derived from UPDF Archives and the plentiful supply from the forces’ archives speaks of a really good record-keeper/librarian. If you want to see a younger version of Gen Caleb Akandwanaho better known as Salim Saleh as a Major General in 1989, you will find it in the glossy album within this book. There are even historic images of the national force (NRA then) marching into Kampala on January 26, 1986, as well as earlier photos of fighters in the bush pre-1986.
The book also features colonial and post-colonial photos, including former President Apollo Milton Obote flanked by then Army Chief General Tito Okello. Credited and well-represented is the entire current leadership of the Ministry of Defence and the Uganda People’s Defence Forces.
Education
As one reads on, one will run into familiar names such as Aronda Nyakairima (May his soul rest in peace), then an intelligence officer in 1984, who got interested in the welfare of a brilliant fighter who had never gone to school and issued instructions forthwith that he should be facilitated to read and write.
In the eighth chapter, or call it Lesson Eight, the stories of how, during the bush war, some uneducated fighters were dispatched to a deserted primary school and handed vernacular reading books for beginners to catch up on their ABCs, are truly heartwarming. The story is an illustration that the army cares about education and has always cared since the days of the NRA.
It was decided then that the question of education and training of officers was too important to be left to chance and the goodwill of a few officers, something which shaped subsequent policy on education in the army, including a new life of learning for child soldiers or kadogos who had joined the ranks of the NRA before the march on Kampala in 1986.
The names of some of more educated recruits in the months prior to the Kampala takeover will be more recognisable to the young people born post-1986.
These include the late Noble Mayombo, David Muhoozi, Wilson Mbadi, James Mugira, Joseph Musanyufu, Apollo Kasiita-Gowa, James Mugira, Richard Karemire, Moses Bukama Rwakitarate, Geoffrey Tumusiime Katsigazi, and Abel Kandiho. It is told how some of these recruits got their first taste of battle under the command of David Tinyefuza on October 30, in Hoima Town.
Proverbs in storytelling
The last chapter aptly shares its title with the book: The Best Army Doesn’t Wear Kilts—it practices being the best. This chapter or lesson also bears hallmarks of the Commander-in-chief’s style of employing proverbs in storytelling.
The book’s last lesson opens with the Cameroonian proverb: “There are no shortcuts to the top of the palm tree.” The UPDF has undertaken several missions over the years, notable among them, leading the African Union Mission to Somalia (AMISOM), where they achieved considerable success.
However, achieving this was not a walk in the park, literally. They say smooth seas do not make skillful sailors and the UPDF credits its success on its adaptability—a concept that we are told is hardwired into the action of every leader, follower and officer.
Again, the book’s author goes on to deliver credit to the fine commanders of the Uganda People’s Defence Forces over the years, namely, Army Chief the late General Aronda Nyakairima, Gen Katumba Wamala, General David Muhoozi and Gen Mbadi, particularly singling them out for cultivating and insisting on adaptability as a major focus of professionalization.
The UPDF has also been a key part of efforts to prevent genocide in South Sudan, with officers such as Brigadier Kayanja Muhanga at the centre of the action. For anyone seeking to explore the army’s foray into this and other war-torn zones, the book is a good explainer and a piece of living history.
In the end, Dr Oloya has pulled off the near-impossible—to summarise the building of an elite army from scratch over more than 40 years, into 256 pages.
Title: The Best Army Doesn’t Wear Kilts
Author: Dr Opiyo Oloya
Pages: 256
Price: Shs111,693 (£23.41)
Availability: Amazon
Published: 2025
