Why I won't mourn Soggy but celebrate him

Dearly missed. Robert Seguya cuts a pensive look during a Rugby Cranes match in 2019. The legendary player and coach was praised by the sports fraternity from here and across the boarders for his selfless contribution to the sport. He was buried on Friday in Buikwe after succumbing to Leukemia on Tuesday. Photo | John Batanudde.

What you need to know:

  • So I had to be strong and ready. I got out of bed, panicking to know what was happening. I quickly browsed a number of sports websites to see if there was anything about Soggy. I also checked the many WhatsApp groups that I am part of, but there was nothing.

This is going to be a very long story about my fallen friend Robert ‘Soggy’ Seguya, the rugby bulldozer, the man-made in iron, the man we lost on Tuesday. Painful and sweet, I have tried as much as I can, to put my relationship with Soggy into ink. It’s a long read, I remind you. Here we go.

On June 14, I received a call from Soggy. He had spent a month at the Uganda Cancer Institute, battling Leukaemia. At that time, I was down with Covid-19, but on the road to recovery.

My heart skipped a bit when I saw Soggy’s number on my screen. I refused to pick the call, fearing the worst. The stories that usually come from the Cancer Institute arent for the faint-hearted.

So I had to be strong and ready. I got out of bed, panicking to know what was happening. I quickly browsed a number of sports websites to see if there was anything about Soggy. I also checked the many WhatsApp groups that I am part of, but there was nothing.

So I composed myself and called back. And guess what...Soggy picked. You don't know how happy I was to hear his voice. We greeted each other and straightaway got talking.

He told me he had seen my Facebook posts about my battles with Covid. He thanked me for keeping the world informed about my situation and for sharing a lot of information about the virus.

Later, Soggy shocked me with words that will forever be etched deep in my heart. Soggy, who was in a more dangerous situation than I was, was looking out for me, showing great care. In that phone call, Soggy urged me to go to his home and harvest as many fruits as I could. Imagine!

Because as a Covid-19 patient, I needed to consume lots of fruits; and he had planted them in plenty. "Raul, my house is your home. Go there and harvest as many fruits as possible. Eat as many fruits as you can. Make litres of juice, carry juice to your house, and drink as much as possible..."

For some reason, I recorded the phone call and every day I keep listening to it. I think it’s my way of appreciating him, and trying to find closure, now that he is gone. That’s how deep our friendship was. And that’s how generous and unselfish he was. Unfortunately, that day, I didn't go there because I was still weak. But that's not the point. The point was that the man had opened up his heart for me, to the depths not many can.

Soggy was a religious guy. I am a Muslim, he was a Catholic. But he had told me about many of his relatives who were Muslims, and he loved me for my religion. When talking to me, he always threw in lots of Islamic lines like “Ïn Shaa Allah”, “Alhamdulillah”, etc. Every time we met or parted ways, he would greet or send me off with the Islamic greeting of “Asalaam Aleikum”.

During that very phone call, Soggy asked me to always include him in my prayers. He asked me to dedicate at least two Rakahs to him, every day. That day, I felt free of Covid. Honestly, I knew that someone was out there thinking and caring about me, and our friendship.

When Soggy got discharged, it took me two weeks to go and check on him. I wanted to first be sure that I was Covid-free. In fact, I took two tests in three days to be extra sure. For a man in his situation, the last thing you don’t want is to carry the deadly virus to him.

You see, I am not well versed with Baganda culture. So, my workmate, Twaha Mukisa, told me that in Baganda culture, when a colleague overcomes a very deadly illness, you give them a hen or cock as a sign of celebration. So when I went to see Soggy, I carried a cock for him.

"Coach, eno ssegwanga yiyo giwuutemu kassupu," I said to him. Soggy surprised me with his response.

He told me that he wasn't going to eat it, come rain or shine. Because eating the cock would be the end of it all, and that would make it easy to forget about it all. But keeping it alive would always remind him how a good friend Raul was. This man Soggy...

So we talked until sunset. He was in the company of his lovely wife, Dorah. That day, the things Soggy and Dorah told me about their experience shook me to the bone. I tell you what...Soggy was a very strong man, a machine. Not only on the rugby pitch but even in these tough moments. That day, we talked, laughed, cried, and talked more again. We talked everything about life... We talked about family, friendships, we talked about rugby, about each and everything.

As the darkness covered the skies, I said my goodbyes. But truth is, I didn't want to leave. I still wanted to be around Soggy. When I reached home, he called me and thanked me for checking on him. He asked me to greet everyone for him, which I did through Facebook posts and many WhatsApp messages to the groups we share(d) in common.

How I met and worked with Soggy

As a young man with an interest in every sport, I used to read about everything. Football, rugby, cricket, golf, athletics, etc. So it is only correct to say that "I knew many sportsmen way before I got to know them on personal levels... "

So, in rugby, it’s no surprise that I got to know the likes of Soggy, Stone Luggya, Timothy and Fred Mudoola, Scott Oluoch, Mathias Ochwo, Denis Etuket, Allan Musoke, Brian Tabaruka, Victor Wadia, Helen Buteme, Christine Mudoola and Charlotte Mudoola way before I ever set my eyes on them.

The things that the newspapers used to write about Soggy, the things that journalists like Ismail Dhakaba Kigongo and Kalungi Kabuye used to say about Soggy, and that 2007 Rugby team that conquered Africa made me fall in love with this dark-skinned guy. He was a fiercely competitive animal on the pitch, they used to say.

In that line, I found myself falling in love with Heathens Rugby Club even before I ever got to watch them in action.

Robert Seguya (R) looks to close the gap on a Zimbabwean player during a continental encounter in 2010. Photo | John Batanudde

In 2015, Buteme convinced me to play rugby and I never looked back. After all, I had quit soccer some years ago. I chose Kyadondo as my base, and Stallions as my team. Kizito was the coach. Soggy was coaching Heathens.

Somehow, Soggy got to learn about my newly-found love for rugby and looked for me. He found me training with Stallions one Tuesday afternoon. Soggy came and picked me out of the team. We were using the pitch behind the Kyadondo Club bar, and Soggy literally dragged me across to the main pitch where Heathens were training from.

He was fuming: "You can't be here playing with these kids. Yes, they know a lot about rugby but they won't help you. They will be respecting you. Let me take to the guys of your age..."

The Heathens team had real machines in the form of Asuman Mugerwa, Ochwo, Alex Mubiru, Charles Uhuru, Santos Senteza, Brian Kikawa, Michael Wokorach, Arthur Mukama, Evans Kingásia, Phillip Wokorach and many others.

The first training session went well for me. I didn't do much, I was more of a spectator. I didn't get stuck into the real stuff. The following day, I went to Stallions and the young boys were happy for me. They told me that Soggy was going to turn me into a serious rugby player in no time.

Then on the Thursday of that week, Soggy again called me over to train with Heathens. The thing about Soggy is that he'll just take you and not even introduce you to the other guys.

He assumes that there and then, you've become part of the family. So I could see that some guys were happy for me, while others looked at me like I was the coach's pet, a spoiled bastard.

That Thursday's session began with tackle pads. Guys were banging those pads and bags like crazy. Soggy saw that I was a bit scared and made a plan with Asuman Mugerwa to get me into the line of fire. I was supposed to run behind Philip Wokorach in a movie called 'Rhino', so Mugerwa was to come and smash me real hard. Lucky enough, a player whose name I won't mention did some Lugambo and alerted me that Asuman, the strongest, hard-hitting prop of those days, was coming for me.

So when 'Suma came, I took a step back and he missed hitting me. Everybody laughed. Otherwise, it was going to become bloody. Soggy went hard on me, fuming that what if I was the last man to defend, would I have let ‘Suma score? Soggy was really mad and angry at me. I was shaking, literally.

As I was still taking everything into account, Soggy called for a rucking session and in this, I was also fully involved. I remember me rucking over Kenneth Okongo (better known as Limbo) and I don't know where Kikawa came from.

The guy cleared me and yeah, I felt it. But I held strong and kept playing. Soggy was happy that evening. At the end of the session, he told me that now that I had tasted the real sweet pain of a rugby player, I was good to go. In other words, that was a "welcome to rugby" message.

One day I was doing a kicking and fielding session with Phillip Wokorach. The lights at Kyadondo weren't the best, so I wasn't seeing properly. I tried to field and the ball hit me hard, breaking the middle finger of my left hand. I played through the pain, and later that night, went to Nsambya Hospital for a scan.

Soggy got to learn about it and he almost killed me for being what he termed as a ‘softie’.

"A simple finger injury and you run a scan? Go and look at Wadia's fingers or those of Matayo. Go look at Mudoola's fingers. Yes, the pain is there but if you are going to be running scans every time you get hit, then, my friend, keep away from rugby..."

I walked away from him. That night, he phoned me and we talked about the sacrifices of a rugby player. I've never gone for scans again. Even when Stone Luggya smashed me hard on the ground in late 2019, I dusted myself and played on for the entire game. Rugby is not football, you can't be crying foul and pain all the time. 

Robert Seguya featuring for Buffaloes in the 2012 national league campain where he acted as a coach-player.  Photo by John Batanudde (1)

Sadly, at the end of that season, Heathens and Soggy parted ways. I went to train with Heathens and life was evidently no longer the same for me. I decided to leave and join another team across the road. I think it was down to my friendship and loyalty to Soggy. We kept in touch, talking about rugby and life in general.

One day he called and appreciated me for loving rugby and trying it. He was angry that many journalists have never touched a rugby ball but they're always chirpy about a player failing to ruck, pass or convert. "Raul, you're a special guy. I am happy that we have an active journalist playing rugby. Now that you know the rules, the pain and sweetness of this sport, your outlook towards rugby will never be like those ones waking up to go on air or in newspapers to say things they've never tried..."

The surprise visit that nearly went bad

Did I tell you how I first went to Soggy's home? Okay...I was riding my bike around Mukono one afternoon, around May 2020. Then I decided to look for Soggy. Just like that. I didn't want to call him; I just wanted to surprise him with a visit. So I went to Club One in Mukono.

I had been told that it was his favorite hangout spot in Mukono. He wasn't there, and the guys there didn't want to direct me to his place. But I overheard one saying that ‘Seguya’ lives near Wantoni.

Thank you, I jumped on my bike and in a minute, I was around Wantoni. I asked one boda boda guy who directed me. I reached his gate and knocked. A medium-aged woman, probably a house help, told me that Soggy wasn't there. But I could see that she was lying. So, I told her to go back inside and tell Soggy that a guy called Raul was the one looking for him.

In 10 minutes, Soggy came out and gave me the tightest hug that nobody has ever given me. He was so happy to see me. He even called his wife, Dorah, to come and "see this journalist friend of mine..."

We chatted for like an hour and I rode off, a happy man. That night, Soggy called and thanked me for the surprise. He told me that I was one of the few people in the rugby fraternity to ever look for him. He thanked me a thousand times. Ever since, I've been going to his house and chatting him up for hours on end.

For such a man, you don't just convince me that I can wake up one morning and forget about him or find a replacement. Never. Soggy is gone and I am going to miss him forever. I am going to keep checking on his family. I am going to keep praying for him because indeed, he was a friend. He showed me that he was a friend. He loved me. He believed in me and appreciated my efforts in everything that I ever tried to do.

Soggy was a hard man on the pitch as a player and coach. As a human being, he was one soft lad, albeit hard to show it. He was a lovable guy. He loved genuinely and deeply. He hated laziness. He had no room for nonsense and whenever he set his eyes on something, he always gave it his all...blood and sweat was one of his favorite lines.

I will always cherish the little time that I got to know him. I will always pray for his soul to rest peacefully.

Take it from me, Legends never die. Never. Soggy is an eternal legend. This is to celebrate the man that we got to know in different colors. It’s my celebration of his life. I thank God that He gave us Soggy and by the time of taking him, we still wanted more of him but God is the Greatest. I won't mourn Soggy but celebrate him.  

There Will Never Be Another Soggy.