Enjoy all the peace, Omujaasi Bashaija Kumaraho Kazoora!
Former Kashaari member of parliament Maj (Rtd) John Bashaija Kazoora, 67, buried on April 24, 2025, was my cousin brother; we grew up together in Rutooma and went to the same school for primary education – Rutooma primary school, later meeting again at Makerere University.
I was older by seven months. A man with a great inerasable memory, humourous, good at storytelling and application of proverbs, and with a stubborn sense of optimism, he also harboured a combative trait that often brought him problems.
I recall his fearless battles with Makerere University administration that led to his imprisonment while still a student. No wonder his wife Naome Kabasharira and his niece Miria Matembe repeatedly mentioned during the funeral that in his last few years, he yearned for peace, eventually announcing that he attained it a year and a half before his death.
Having fought many physical, intellectual, organizational and health battles through Uganda Patriotic Movement (UPM), National Resistance Movement (NRM), Forum for Democratic Change (FDC) and Alliance for National Transformation (ANT), Kazoora eventually called it quits with politics to concentrate on his health which has not been good for the last 22 years, and have peace with himself and his family.
KUMARAHO = FINISH-YOU-OFF
In primary school, Kazoora used to intimidate others with the threat, “Ninkwita ninkumaraho”, literally, “I can kill you and finish you off ”.
So, the pupils nicknamed him Kumaraho, a name he loved proudly. I was surprised when the Makerere University graduation booklet of 1983 came out with Kumaraho as part of his name – John Bashaija Kumaraho Kazoora!
He didn’t attend the graduation, having gone to the bush immedately after his final examinations. At Makerere University, we stayed together in Nkrumah hall where he was chairman.
Though I had been one year ahead of him in school, he was now a year ahead of me because I had lost two years in exile in Zambia. Because of the many revolutionary and humanitarian activities I was carrying out, I applied to stay alone in a room that would house two students.
His hall government granted it. The subsequent hall government too granted me the privilege; so, I stayed alone in Room A9 the whole of my second and third years.
OMUJAASI = SOLDIER
When we were in secondary school, our uncle’s wife Jairesi Mburugushu nicknamed both of us ‘Omujaasi’ which is a Luganda word meaning ‘Soldier’, for our agility and smartness. John indeed became a soldier for 23 years, from May 30, 1982 to January 31, 2005.
Like father, like son; his father Enock Kazoora had served under the 7th Regiment (‘Abaseveni’) of the King’s African Rifles in the Second World War. When he decided to contest for member of parliament for Kashaari in 1996, Kazoora came to our brother-in-law Eriab Kyamushaija and asked him and his wife (our cousin) Merabu to request me to man his campaign office in Bwizibwera town.
Though my home was very close in the same village of Mishenyi, he didn’t reach my home, perhaps still recalling how I had criticized him when he was contesting to join the Constituent Assembly.
In 1993, I told him that he was conducting himself as a crude militarist moving around with a gun, a cane and a boastful language, and that the population I was living in would not love this; indeed he lost the race. He soon learnt that I was supporting Norman Kayonga, also of Rutooma, who died before the election.
As Kayonga’s supporters, we decided to support Urban Tibamanya who eventually won highly. So, in 1996, I was his campaign secretary for two months, with no pay. He confided in me that I would be the effective head of the campaign team, considering my capacity.
Indeed, Eriab Kyamushaija was called chairman, but he himself sought advice and guidance from me every now and then. Our team helped Kazoora win the race although it was obvious that the higher circles of the NRM didn’t want him to win, for some unknown drudges they had with him.
He defeated Tibamanya and our relative and resident of Rutooma, Paul Bakashabaruhanga. Among the innovations our campaign team made, we created an elders’ council with branches in every sub-county and we used a lot of printed propaganda leaflets, some distributed clandestinely in densely populated areas.
We also advised him to counter the campaign slander that he had been dismissed from the army with disgrace for indiscipline and inefficiency to be putting on his military uniform some days as he campaigned.
When Rwanyamahembe sub-county made a victory party for him, the MC Geoffrey Kyatuuka told guest-of-honour Dr Ruhakana Rugunda and the audience, “Without this small man, we would not have earned this victory. Things would get tough and we all run away from the office, but he would remain, and gather us after the storm.”
Kazoora put on a smile that betrayed a treasured conspiracy! Rugunda told Kazoora and the audience how he knew my capability, having known me in exile in Zambia. Later, when Rubaya sub-county made their victory celebrations, guest-of-honour minister David Pulkol lifted me like a brother in public to the surprise of many.
Pulkol then whispered to Kazoora how I had been his political and emotional mentor at Makerere. Similarly, although I had left peasant life in Kashaari and relocated to Mbarara town as a small trader, when Kazoora contested in Kashaari in 2006 on FDC card, I got chance to talk to him.
I told him that no matter how good he may be as a person, an FDC candidate could not win in Kashaari; and so, he lost. He could not buy my proposal that he, instead, stands as an independent. John’s overconfidence in himself would at times border on naivety concerning the involvement of multitudes.
Sadly, after losing on FDC card twice in Mbarara municipality in 2011 and 2016, he returned to Kashaari South as an independent in 2021 and lost again. Though he knew I had become a permanent voter in Mbarara town, he never contacted me for a vote or advice during his two attempts in Mbarara municipality.
When his memoir book, Betrayed by My Leader, was published in 2012, I thanked him for the bravery of writing it, but I pointed out that it contained a lot of unnecessary anger and many typos that I could have edited out, even for free.
The book also had many Runyankore sentences and phrases that were left untranslated! A bit rude to his readers, I pointed it out to him.
BASHAIJA = MORE-THAN-ONE-MAN
The name Bashaija translates as ‘Men’; indeed, John was ‘a man-and-a-half ’ or ‘a more-than-one-man’, with his gigantic stature inherited from his mother Manjeri, great proselytizing (mobilization) capabilities and an indomitable fighting spirit.
He also loved to make merry – drinking the bitter stuff, music, sports and outings. Tall, dark-skinned, handsome and very intelligent, many ladies admired him like ‘a diamond in the sky’.
John, thank you for being ‘a more-than- one-man’!
By your funeral occupying the national and international media for many days, you have surely joined the many departed great souls of Rutooma that include Rev Canon Yoweri Buningwire, the first ordained clergyman in Ankole (1916); Omugabe (King) Charles Godfrey Gasyonga II and Prince John Barigye; two ministers in Milton Obote’s first government – Grace Ibingira and Wilson Rwetsiba; three victims of Obote’s 1966 political jailing outburst – Grace Ibingira, Maj Katabarwa Rutaasyangabo and Capt Levi Ibabaza Mugarura; Prof Samwiri Rubaraza Karugire; and NRA commander Lt. Col Sam Magara, among others.
As 100-year-old Mzee Tom Kayangire testified at your burial, Rutooma area perhaps contributed a larger number of fighters in the first two years of the Luweero bush war than any other small area in Uganda.
Yes, he meant our little Rutooma with an incredible concentration of the early beneficiaries of the great East African Christian Revival movement, our mere parish-size area that became so mystical that it swallowed neighbouring sub-counties in the psyche of greater Ankole, always endeavouring to tag the name Rutooma onto their own.
UNCLE JOHN = GRANDPA MODERN
Namesake, you identified, mentored and protected many talents, earning you the prestigious ‘Uncle John’ and ‘Grandpa Modern’ monikers. You designed, repaired and drove many human and social machines by remote control.
You never lacked possessions or human company, and never ceased advancing under adversity. You were and still are an inspiration to many. I am seeing hundreds of people sharing your memoir book in soft form, anxious to listen to your intelligence, courage, frustrations and hope.
Unlike many politicians, you respected media people, and they loved you back as a benevolent ‘uncle’. But you have left owing me something; when I last met you at Kampala Club with political science professor and newspaper columnist Moses Khisa, you said you were longing for a lengthy tête-à-tête and sharing of ideas with me
. You promised to invite me for the same. Too late now! John, enjoy all the peace you eventually encountered on your visit to Israel! You didn’t have to go around singing Jesus Christ or Halleluiah like our balokole mothers, but you have surely rested with peace in hand, heart, head and bone.
You managed to put down the ugly and heavy burden of political hurts (such as losing four consecutive elections) and bodily pain. Indeed, you have kumarahoed! I bid you adieu!
The author is one of the editors at The Observer newspaper.
johnmoriginal@yahoo.com
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