The enigmatic Uncle Chimps

Benjamin Musinguzi, fondly known as, Kitono or Uncle Chimps, was born on Christmas day in 1962 to Benjamin and Aurelia Kahonda Mugisha in Ibanda. He was the couple’s first son and as African sentiments go, being a son, he must have brought them a lot of joy.

From old photos,  Kitono bore a keen resemblance to his father which must have been a bonus for the couple. So it was no surprise that at baptism he was named Benjamin after his father and given the surname Musinguzi (victor).

 He had two brothers but this euphoria was soon shattered by the death of Kahonda in 1971. Aurelia opted to return to her parents’ home with the children so her family could help her raise them. And that is how Kitono ended up growing up in Mbarara raised by his dotting maternal uncle, the famous and stalwart educationist turned politician Sarapio Karashani and his wife Donnah.

The Karashanis played the role of guardians well. They took Kitono to the best schools within their means; he attended Mbarara High School and Busoga College Mwiri. They put up with his teenage shenanigans for as his age mates testify, Kitono was no altar boy.

Fun lover
Kitono was blessed with intellect and his peers highly praise his academic excellence both in arts and sciences. From childhood, he mastered the art of working hard and playing hard; his adventures are legendary. Wherever he went Kitono left a story to tell. For example, he earned his nickname Chimpanzee on his trip to the UK.

 Apparently, while there a White boy called him a chimpanzee but instead of being offended, Kitono adopted it and became known as Uncle Chimps to all.
His second trip to Amsterdam for a scouts’  Jamboree, however, did not end as smoothly. Kitono was the troop leader but binged irresponsibly on the long flight.

 By the time the group landed at Gatwick Airport, he was too inebriated to answer the immigration officers’ questions about who they were and where they were going. They were summarily deported back to Uganda to the shock and disappointment of his friends.
 Today, this story elicits wild guffaws but it must have been embarrassing and painful back in 1983.

Tragedy
Kitono’s life I believe would have been like that of his peers, making mistakes, learning from them and continuing to grow had it not been for the tragic incident in 1987. The devastating tragedy tore through the peaceful Karashani household and swept away two sons; one physically and the other emotionally. After this incident, life was never the same for Kitono.

The pain of losing his cousin consumed and ultimately paralysed him. He left home never to return. He drunk excessively, became rootless, halted his formal education and made no effort to find a permanent place of abode or job. He seemed to have lost interest in conventional life and decided to live his life on his terms. As his 20s gave way to his 30s and then 40s, he tried as much as possible to extend his youth. He partied continuously and travelled continuously perhaps to assuage his pain.

The loner
As his friends got married and settled into parental domesticity while others passed on, invariably the playgrounds became occupied by younger players with whom he could not relate and often cut a lonely figure on the sidelines of his former playing fields. Society looked on disapprovingly wondering why a man of such potential could not settle down, start a family or get employment.

His circle of friends became smaller, his jokes were ignored and antics condemned. But still he refused to yield to convention and play by the set rules.

The extremes
 In his late 40s and early 50s, his health began paying for the excesses of his youth. His strength and vigour waned, he became quieter and more contemplative. He came to rely on the kindnesses of his few remaining friends. He fought valiantly to preserve his life. He endured several operations and tried as much as possible to adhere to doctors’ advice and we can say that battle was won, because he died of other causes.

Appearance mattered
As we mourn him, it is important that those of us who knew him draw lessons from his life as a way of celebrating and acknowledging his humanness. Kitono  was an enigma; a mix of what was truly noble but also deeply flawed. In a country where most do not know the use of ear buds, Kitono used several daily, trimmed his nails, and plucked his nasal hairs, shaved ritually every day for an hour.

His clothes were neat and practical and he always wore an expensive cologne. If cleanness is next to godliness, then Kitono was a saint.  And yet he did not believe in all that drink water and eat vegetable fuss; he preferred his alcohol and meat. He could be inconsiderate, harsh and in his younger days he would not shy away from  fist fights.

Compassionate
Kitono was never far if he knew a friend was in trouble. He did more hospital visits than some doctors, attended burials, visited prisoners, went on school visitations, sought employment opportunities from important people for his friends or their children. He rescued many from police cells. In the late 1980s and early 1990s he patiently nursed several friends who succumbed to HIV/Aids. Often, Kitono’s face was the last face they gazed upon as they breathed their last all others having long disappeared.

Kitono was a problem solver, a keen listener and reliable. He despised arrogance and self-importance and was never one to aimlessly name drop even if it was true he was known to some important people around. Kitono preferred to live his life simply and was comfortable working in the shadows. He was sought after in his circles for his encyclopedic knowledge of events and people’s histories.

Lived in the moment
In a world where money spins the universe, Kitono had no use for it, in fact he abhorred avarice. He only took what was absolutely necessary and was content with what he had which by any standards was not much. And even in asking friends for help he only asked for what he needed for that day. Even after realising that he would never achieve what his peers had, he did not become jealous or envious.
He seemed satisfied in who he was and had no desire to be anyone else. He refused to give in to self-pity and did not let other people’s good fortune or relationships come between his relationships with them.

Celebrated others
Kitono taught us how to acknowledge and celebrate each other’s humanness. And where three friends were gathered, he would be in their midst. In fact like a moth to light, he seemed unable to resist other people. His friend Peter Nkurunzinza noted that Kitono’s passing reinforces the lesson that we should judge people by the goodness of their hearts rather than their material possessions.
The world being a stage where each actor appears, plays their part and exits, Kitono played his part formidably  well and now rests in peace. Fare thee well Kitono, till we meet again.

Memorable. His second trip to Amsterdam for a scouts’  Jamboree however, did not end as smoothly. Kitono was the troop leader but binged irresponsibly on the long flight. By the time the group landed at Gatwick Airport, he was too inebriated to answer the immigration officers’ questions about who they were and where they were going. They were summarily deported back to Uganda to the shock and disappointment of his friends.

In brief
Benjamin Musinguzi Kitono, alias, Uncle Chimps was born on Christmas Day in 1962 in Ibanda.

His parents were Benjamin and Aurelia Kahonda Mugisha.

He was raised by his guardians Sarapio (his maternal uncle) and Donnah Karashani.He died of natural causes and was buried in Kitagwenda District.

Author Sylvia Mwesigye