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Retelling Kabaka’s birthdays in exile

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A man carries Kabaka (King) Ronald Muwenda Mutebi II on his shoulders during his 30 year coronation at his palace in Mengo, Kampala, on July 31, 2023. PHOTO/AFP

With the pomp and buzz around Kabaka Ronald Muwenda Mutebi’s birthdays — the run that attracts tens of thousands in Buganda and abroad, the merrymaking that draws all the media attention —it’s easy to think that’s the norm. But have you ever wondered what his birthdays were like during the 70s and 80s, when Ronald Mutebi was only a Prince in exile? To those familiar with both times, the contrast is as stark as day and night.

David William Segawa Mukasa, Kabaka’s friend for the last 41 years, said the birthday meant a lot to the prince, no matter the circumstances. While an entertainment journalist and salesman in exile, Crown Prince Mutebi had an enviable financial discipline, regularly saving 30 percent of his modest income. Still, “Even if we were two or three, he ensured that we did something to celebrate his birthday,” said Segawa, who grew up calling the Queen Mother Sarah Nalule Kisosonkole Auntie Sarah before joining Mutebi in London in 1984.

Mutebi and Segawa had seen each other as children in the early 70s when the prince visited Uganda. This was because Segawa’s mother prepared the meals for the prince.

But the two young men never really got to meet, until Segawa also flew into exile in 1982, finally meeting Prince Mutebi at St Martin-in-the-Fields Church, in London’s Trafalgar Square in 1984. Segawa was 21, Mutebi was 29.

Interestingly, St Martin's was christened Ekkanisa ya Kabaka (Kabaka’s Church) because it’s where Kabaka Mutebi’s father, Sir Edward Muteesa II, used to go for services. And when he died in 1969, it was where the main requiem happened. “On his (Mutebi’s) birthdays, we could go out and have a fun time in a nightclub. And the following morning, he would go to church to thank the Lord for the gift of life.” It meant a lot to someone whose life had drastically turned from the comfort of royalty to the discomforts of exile at 11, losing his father at 14—causes reportedly linked to those that had forced them into exile—and his mother at 19.

Fun-tactic in Fulham

Segawa said most of the prince’s birthdays were lonely affairs. Sometimes, a special meal by Mutebi’s favourite aunt Edith Nnakazaana Mukasa or by family friend Maama Mary Nsubuga would be enough. But one birthday stood out as bombastic, thanks to Wasswa Birigwa.

To some, Birigwa is called Rocky, his nickname when he was a musician alongside his brother Geoffrey Nsereko in the 60s, when he moved to the US. “I nicknamed myself Rocky Herbert, so just in case I failed in music, it wouldn’t be Birigwa who had failed,” Birigwa said in an exclusive interview.

Rocky admired legends like Elly Wamala and Fred Masagazi, among others, but his choice of a genre was American. “I loved rock music. And I also listened to Elvis Presley a lot.” Fast forward to the 80s, Birigwa, now a banker, flew from Boston to London. “I think it was one of the many times I flew to London either on my way to Uganda, Kenya or to the world, and I made it a habit to stop by and meet Ronnie,” Birigwa said, referring to Mutebi, his friend for nearly five decades.

“Whenever I was in London, I would call him, and he was always with his best friend Segawa; they were friends who perfectly matched each other.” So, one such visit coincided with the prince’s birthday. “And being a banker (I don’t remember whether I had joined Citibank then), but I was well off and could afford [a huge party]. “Like Segawa told you, their birthdays were dull, but this time, we said: it’s your birthday, c’mon, let’s celebrate. So, the three drove to a club in Fulham and had a fantastic time. The way you would celebrate with a king. We ate well, drank well, had lots of fun, and danced. Wow, it was one hell of a time!” Birigwa recalled, his face glowing with nostalgia. “With Rocky around, you couldn’t just drink and drive home,” Segawa retells. “He was such a great dancer. I wonder whether he still is. We often reminded ourselves about that night. ‘Remember when we had the Kabaka’s birthday just the three of us!’”

Secret mission

Doubtless, the fun at Fulham was a big deal. But to Birigwa, it was just a footnote in his secret mission to lead the prince from exile back home, a job he first found strange but executed with the utmost secrecy, pride, and precision. Having grown up among royalty, having had his early education inside the palace, having played with princes and princesses, physically seeing Kabaka Muteesa II, for Birigwa, a boy born in the ghettos of Katwe, being assigned such a delicate mission by royalty couldn’t be more flattering. “It was meaningful to me in a very special way, even though it was a huge risk,” he said, pausing and then: “For example, how do you keep the prince safe in Nairobi amid the anarchy raging in Uganda?” Those were times of intense speculation and suspicion. “That’s why I requested my father to send my mother to take care of our meals in Nairobi. I mean, who else could I have trusted with the prince’s meals?” Before this, Birigwa was in the middle of a career transition in the US—now a father and no longer doing music—when he received a call from London. It was around 1980. “Hello! Are you Wasswa Birigwa? We need you in London,” the voice from the other end said tersely. Birigwa wanted to know more. “You’ll know the details when you come,” said Prince Henry Kimera, brother to the late Sir Edward Muteesa II.

The following week, Birigwa had to start working with Mellon Bank in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. He needed some time to think about the London trip. “But we need you urgently,” the London caller emphasised. Anyway, Birigwa flew to London and met Uncle Henry (as Kimera was mostly known) and Prince Mutebi. And guess why Birigwa was needed: “We assigned you to pave the way for the prince’s [Mutebi] safe return home,” Kimera told him. “I laughed. Even Ronnie laughed; it was funny,” Birigwa said. But what sounded like a big joke then was a remarkable step into a grander scheme that culminated in the restoration of the most famous monarch in Uganda, whose birthdays and other initiatives are almost of national importance. As if by design, around the same time, Citibank, the leading bank in the world, then offered Birigwa to manage the Africa and Middle East office, based in Nairobi. That eased his worries about how he could juggle his job and the royal mission. To set the ball rolling, Birigwa invited the prince (Mutebi) to Boston “so that I could know him better, and also for him to get away from London and meet some of his other relatives and friends.”

There was instant chemistry between Birigwa and Mutebi. “We instantly became friends, had a lot in common. We had a good time in Boston.” What’s more, “Ronnie also knew many Ugandans in Birigwa’s Boston circles, most notably the Ssenteza Kajubi family. Some had been his schoolmates.” From his deep pockets while working with Citibank in Nairobi, Birigwa bought a mansion in Lower Kabeta in the Kenyan capital and set up a palace for the prince, family, and friends. Birigwa found working with the prince easy. “I would say the hardships he had endured had prepared him to eventually assume the responsibility to lead the monarchy,” Birigwa said. Also, Segawa said, keeping close ties with his late father’s friends and confidants was important. “He learnt a lot from Captain Richard Carr-Gomm, Ronnie Owen, Mark Amory, who was the prince’s tutor in Bunyoro, Cardinal Emmanuel Nsubuga, and the likes.” Mark Amory assisted Kabaka Muteesa II in writing the Desecration of My Kingdom in 1967. Birigwa added: “Ronnie was intelligent and very concerned...And most importantly, just like me, he was very hopeful about going home. We had no doubts about that. The question was, 'how do we go home?”

70, a big deal

Birigwa, 77, said 70 years is such a precious gift to the Kabaka. “The other day we were with the Kabaka reminiscing the souls we have lost; quite many,” Birigwa said, mentioning Uncle Henry (Kimera), who died before the Kabaka’s Coronation in 1993, Princess Alice Zaalwango, Kabaka’s little sister, who died in 2005, Edward Nsubuga, who offered to share his office space with the Prince to speed up the kingdom’s restoration process, friends like John Nagenda, Maj Gen Kasirye Ggwanga, Prince John Barigye, Omukama Patrick Kaboyo, and many others. “And the past five years have been quite challenging for Kabaka and the kingdom. But I congratulate him on this milestone of 70 years. ‘‘I also commend him for accomplishing most of the things we set out to do for the kingdom's good,” Birigwa said. Equally, Segawa is proud of having been close to the prince-turned-king for 41 years, a process shaped by friendship, lessons, and service. “I wish the Kabaka many more years of good life. Wangaala Ayi Ssaabasajja!”