You have heard by now of the incredible new book about Kizza Besigye authored by my old friend on whom I tie every time he achieves something, Daniel Kalinaki. The book is called Kizza Besigye, And Uganda’s Unfinished Revolution and is selling bestly.
What you may not have heard of, at least not until I finish this sentence, is the book about Kizza Besigye authored by another veteran journalist, me, yours truly, the self, Ernest Bazanye.
My book chronicles the life and struggle of the controversial opposition figure from birth to the current day.
Not to take away from Kalinaki’s book, which is excellent, but mine goes deeper and uncovers more material, exposes, unearths and reveals more about Besigye.
Chiefly because, unlike Kalinaki, I am not constrained by facts.
Here are some excerpts from Kizza Besigye, The Unnonfictionalised Revelation
As far back as I can remember I have been a freedom fighter. I have always had the drive to fight against oppression and tyranny.
I was born Warren Kifeefe Kizza Besigye in a small hospital in Rukungiri. I remember that day very well. I had just achieved freedom and was ready to celebrate the beginning of my life when it happened. The very first thing that happened to me was oppression by the militaristic aggressors who take advantage of their positions of power to assault the weak and powerless. There, as a newborn, at my weakest moment, I was spanked by the doctor. But I was not a coward. I would not take it in silence. I turned to that doctor and said, “You oppress the weak with your dictatorial spanks and think nothing of it? Don’t you know that we have rights? I will avenge this day!”
Of course because I didn’t know how to speak then, all that came out was an incoherent bawl, which seemed to satisfy him.
I never forgot my promise. Twenty years later, when I was a grown man, I travelled back to that hospital to find the doctor and exact justice. To get in I had to pretend to be a medical student. A ruse I ended up carrying on all the way to my graduation from medical school, but it was worth it. Because it enabled me to locate the doctor and spanked his ass right back.
Oppressors always get what is coming to them.
I had a happy childhood in the village. In those days boys were expected to look after cows. Most boys had to use sticks to whip the cows and order them around. I quickly showed my leadership potential when, even at an early age, I was able to interact with the cows and galvanise them into an organised opposition against the oppressive cattle herders. We expressed our dissatisfaction with the prevailing state of tyranny by walking in protest. It appeared to be a successful protest because the boys whipped the cows much less when they saw that the cows seemed to be walking to the pasture on their own volition. This was my first successful walk to work protest. Unfortunately, to this day, it remains my only successful walk to work protest.
The first time I met Yoweri Museveni was at a football match in the early seventies. Like most football matches, even though everyone else seemed to be enjoying it, I was bored stiff and so was Museveni. He was listening to Kool and The Gang’s hot new single Celebrate Good Times on a shortwave transistor radio. I liked the sound of the song so I got up onto my platform shoes, swirled my bellbottoms around and walked up to where he was sitting so that I could tap the music.
In those days iphones and earbuds had not been invented so it was possible to tap other people’s music.
At that moment, Museveni looked at me and said, “You want to share my music? That is okay, but did you bring your own batteries? Because I don’t like sharing power.”
I should have seen that as a sign.
When the song was over, I suggested that he change the channel to Radio Uganda which was playing the lastest brand new hit from Abba, but he would not do so. “No change,” he said.
I should have taken that, too, as a sign.
And now, what happens when idle people have bundle and youtube channels.