Meet the ref officiating in borrowed uniforms

On Valentine’s Day, the atmosphere in the Old Kampala Futsal Arena was thick with lingering resentment as the betPawa Futsal Super League clash between Park and Kabuusu ended in a fiery 2-2 draw. It was a match indelibly marked by a moment of audacious intervention from the then-second referee, Brice Gashayija.

Senior referee Brian Emmy Nsubuga, a seasoned official who has been appointed to officiate at the 2025 Futsal Women's African Cup of Nations (AFCON) in Morocco, had pointed to the penalty spot in favour of Kabuusu Cloud.

But Gashayija, positioned much closer to the tangle between the Kabuusu attacker and the Park defender, had seen it differently. In a move that stunned everyone, including Nsubuga himself, Gashayija directly contradicted the senior referee's call.

The ensuing uproar was deafening. Kabuusu players and fans erupted in fury, directing a torrent of angry shouts and names at the young official.

“Boy! What do you know about futsal? You ate a bribe from Park," the words, laced with venom directed squarely at Gashayija. His image in the dull lights, unflinching despite the verbal barrage, remained vivid in the minds of many who witnessed it.

He was right, a fact unequivocally confirmed by the referee assessors who reviewed the incident. That single, bold decision, made while wearing a slightly oversized spare purple uniform borrowed from a senior referee – a visual marker of his still-unofficial status – had been a seismic shift in his burgeoning career.

It had showcased not just courage, but an astute reading of the game that belied his 18 years and recent completion of Primary Seven at Nakivubo Blue Primary School, where the school Games Master Kadri Nsaba had first introduced him to the whistle.

"His potential as a student was often overshadowed by lack of school fees. Those difficulties forced him to officiate games from an early stage to cover his school fees," said the school deputy head teacher Nespol Amodoi.

Gashayija knows the significance of his calls. The very clubs that contest in the high-stakes futsal league have demonstrated their belief in him by clearing his outstanding school fees at Nakivubo Blue.

The impending secondary school bursary, a direct consequence of his refereeing talent, serves as a constant reminder of the faith placed in his judgment.

Making his mark

The weight on Gashayija's young shoulders extend far beyond the scrutiny of contentious futsal calls. Born on February 20, 2007 to Frank Kagabo, once a shoes vendor in Kampala City and Agnes Mukadengo, a stay-at-home mother, Gashayija's world had been upended at the close of 2023.

His parents, now homeless, had inadvertently plunged him into a battle against poverty, leaving over Shs300,000 in unpaid school fees at Nakivubo Blue Primary School hanging over his head.

Kagabo, still without a stable place to live, remained unaware of his son's burgeoning career as a referee in Uganda's top futsal league. Yet, Gashayija was already making waves, his whistle commanding attention on the court.

Twice this season, Omarios Ali, the keen-eyed Futsal Association of Uganda (FAU) EXCO Member who had spotted a rare gem in the youngster, invited Gashayija’s father to witness his son in action. It was during these visits that Omarios pieced together the stark reality of Gashayija’s life: a school dropout, no longer living with his family who had relocated to Gangu, but instead seeking precarious shelter with friends in the cramped slums of Katwe. The third-born of four now shares a single room with about five other boys, their nights spent huddled together.

Despite completing Primary Seven the previous year, the upheaval in his family life had extinguished any immediate plans for further education.

"I had given up. I have no source of income and the house I sleep in I'm just a custodian to its owner," said Kagabo, oblivious to the small fortune his son is quietly earning and the impact he’s making.

While a keen football player in his younger years, Gashayija found himself increasingly drawn to the whistle.

"At the school pitch, there are what we call Sunday Special games for older people. That's where I started from," he recalls. "They used to pay me Shs5,000 to officiate their games and they were always encouraging me."

His persistent lack of school fees even led to informal arrangements where he would be called out of class to officiate evening matches, the small earnings a lifeline to keep him in school.

From these humble recreational games, Brice’s talent began to shine. A man known only as Coach Kisitu recognised the spark and took him to the International Futsal Courts (IFCU) in Kisenyi, a hub for the Somali futsal community. Officiating in the often-fiery Tuesday night futsal encounters became his training ground.

 "It was from here that I saw him making very good calls," Omarios later explained, his interest piqued by the young referee's natural aptitude.

Omarios also remembered Gashayija as a junior player at Soccer Stars Academy under coach Isaac Ogogo, a connection that highlighted the boy’s deep-rooted passion. However, the lack of transport refunds often hindered his participation.

Recognising his potential, Omarios connected Gashayija with Erias Kafeero, a referee assessor and the head of the futsal referees' body.

Last year, Brice’s name appeared on the referees' list, his inclusion a testament to the "exceptional decisions and calls" that were already turning heads in the betPawa Futsal League, a world his homeless father couldn't even imagine.

Future prospects

Gashayija's eyes are fixed firmly on a future where his whistle commands respect on an even grander stage. His dream of becoming a renowned referee took a significant step closer last week when he received his PLE certificate with a commendable pass in Division Two with 17 aggregates for a boy who missed classes for most of Primary Seven. This achievement has reignited a dormant desire to resume his education in the coming school term.

"Our basis is education. Sports has an element of transformation," said Omarios. "That's how we can be able to help him achieve his dreams."

Gashayija stands out as one of only five school-going referees within the futsal fraternity, yet his talent shines brighter than the rest. Omarios, while recognising his exceptional potential, offers a realistic assessment, rating him six out of ten.

"His major undoing at the moment is overconfidence. Overconfidence can become a major distraction to learning," Omarios cautions.

To address this and other areas for growth, Gashayija is slated for enrollment in upcoming referees' training programs. In the interim, he is learning from the experienced senior referees he works alongside and absorbing knowledge from online resources, particularly refereeing tutorials on YouTube.

The tangible steps towards acquiring his official referee badges are already underway.

Recognising the financial constraints that have plagued Gashayija’s young life, Omarios has implemented a practical strategy. Of Brice's Shs15,000 matchday transport refund, Shs10,000 is retained by Omarios.

This small saving is dedicated to accumulating the necessary funds to purchase essential refereeing equipment, including the required three sets of uniform that will finally allow him to step away from the borrowed kits.

The dream of a respected career, intertwined with the renewed hope of education, fuels Brice's every whistle blow.