Dear Mr. Odrek Rwabwogo, I have listened to your recent interviews with genuine monkey-amusement. This is now the second time you have emerged from the presidential kraal to explain that Uganda is in trouble. Thank you for the update. Everything you have said has already been said. Dr. Kizza Besigye was saying it when some people in your household still believed Museveni would retire voluntarily. We repeated it. Journalists repeated it. Academics repeated it. I repeated it in books. The reward was prison, torture, exile and criminal charges. You repeat the same things and people organise television interviews as though Moses has just descended from Mount Sinai carrying fresh tablets.
I remember meeting you shortly after I came out of prison in January 2022. You asked to see me. With my consent, you inspected the wounds from mutilation on my back, buttocks, thighs and right arm. You even told me that you had been sent by your boss, who, through one of Uganda's more successful procurement exercises, also became your father-in-law--Museveni.
Recently Timothy Kalyegira revealed that you visited him in prison too. That made me wonder whether you have appointed yourself Inspector General of Political Prisoners. Every time your brother-in-law's government manufactures another inmate, there you are, conducting prison tourism like lice or bedbugs.
Your recent concern for Uganda is curious. It seems to bloom whenever there is family frost around the fireplace. One begins to suspect that you are not opposing impunity. You are scavenging on it. There is a quarrel at home, then suddenly Uganda acquires another patriot. You are a Presidential Advisor. Your father-in-law runs the country. Your brother-in-law behaves as though he inherited it from Queen Victoria. Why are you addressing us? We are the wrong audience.Take your complaints to family dinner. If dinner fails, take them to your wife, Bishop Patience Rwabwogo. She once told the world that she saw Jesus with her naked owl eyes. Excellent. We have a direct line to heaven sitting in your own sitting room. Why waste time with Youtube and Twitter? Draft a memorandum. Hand it to the Bishop. Let her forward it to Jesus. If He agrees that Uganda is collapsing, perhaps He can whisper it into your father-in-law's ear during the next prayer breakfast. If that also fails, ask Him to schedule a meeting with your brother-in-law. I understand miracles are still performed. The rest of us exhausted earthly channels years ago. We wrote books. We filed cases. We organised rallies. We gave interviews. We petitioned Parliament. We spoke to diplomats. We reported torture. The state responded with handcuffs, basements and exile.
You had something we never had. You possessed unlimited access to the source of the problem. Imagine living next to a burning house for twenty years, refusing to tell the owner that it is on fire, then running to the trading centre to announce that there is smoke. That is your political awakening. Forgive us if we do not clap. Ugandans are not interested in hearing recycled opposition speeches from a man who still has a family seat at the high table. We know the script. We wrote parts of it. We bled for it. Some died for it. You are arriving after the credits have started rolling.
Kindly carry your sermons back to the Kaguta family.
Sincerely,
Rukirabachwezi
Mr. Kasumba carries himself like a towering intellectual heavyweight, brimming with superior insight. But when he speaks, what emerges is glorious, unfiltered chaos of malodorous rumpus, brouhaha, and theological-journalistic word salad.
In all my days, I’ve yet to catch a single coherent sentence from the man, be it from his formal theological training or his enthusiastic amateur journalism. When he’s not out here serving public nuisance, he’s off sending his noodles, presumably recharging for the next round of eloquent nonsense. The strands of grey are on a wrong chin and head.
Isn’t it ironical, the dictator’s daughter masquerading as a pastor, invoking the name of Jesus while mocking Christianity itself.
Your family presides over a state of terror. Your father has turned our country into a living hell-forcing citizens into exile, jailing political opponents, and ruling through fear. Your brother tortures and kills innocent people for fun-on this very same platform. And you yourself recently convened bloggers and online influencers, bribing them with 5 billions Ugx of taxpayers’ money to white wash your family’s crimes with lies and propaganda.
No wonder you covered your eyes while invoking Jesus’ name, shame has a way of revealing itself.
If you truly wish to speak as a Christian, then speak the truth. And if you cannot tell the truth, then stop using faith as a costume to mask injustice.