{UAH} Meet Prof Samuel Ssejjaaka who believes he has conned Uganda
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Meet Prof Samuel Ssejjaaka who believes he has conned Uganda
Written by Simon Kasyate
- Created: 01 August 2016
Professor Samuel Ssejjaaka is the chairperson of the Uganda Development Bank and proprietor of Abacus Business School. He talked to Simon Kasyate on Capital FM's Desert Island Discs programme about his life story.
Good evening and welcome to Desert Island Discs.
Good evening, Simon and good evening, listeners.
Who is Samuel Ssejjaaka?
Samuel Ssejjaaka was born on January 10, 1964. I was born in Mulago hospital. My father was called George William Ssemakula and he was a public servant. He was a cartographer in the ministry of lands.
What is a cartographer?
A cartographer is a surveyor. What in Luganda we call omupunta. My father worked in the ministry of lands and surveying in Entebbe and that is where I lived most of my early days. My mother is still alive and lives in Najjanankumbi. She just turned 70; she is called Harriet Nakibuule Ssemakula.
Don't you have siblings?
I am the eldest boy but I have a sister who is older than me. I have three sisters, one of them lives in London, two live here with me. I have four brothers, who live here in Uganda and three other brothers who live in the United States.
That was quite a big household!
Truth be told, African families were really polygamous. So, that makes a total 12 of us, from three mothers. My mother had the most children.
What are your best recollections of your childhood?
I think the most treasured memory of that time was growing up in a very scenic town – Entebbe. It was quite clean and organised. You never realize some of these things until you grow up. But we grew up in the African quarters. I think segregation is not one of the things that only the South Africans witnessed.
So, over the weekends and during the holidays, I lived in what was called the African quarters. But my father was foresighted; he took me to what I would call some of the best schools at the time. After two years of nursery school, I moved to a school called St Tereza where I stayed for about two years. Then I moved on to Lake Victoria PS; that was in about 1971.
It was absolutely brilliant. Up to today, I am amazed at the condition of the school. At an early stage, I was exposed to a flashing toilet, I was able to see a piano, library, white teachers, kids playing cricket and football... So, walking back to the African quarters after school, we always walked through the golf course.
I recall our headmaster, Mr Yeti, did not tolerate kids fighting at school; so, at one of the assemblies, he told us that if you wanted to have a fight, you would have to go to the golf course. We had fights there. I got beaten a few times and I beat up a few people. So, that is what makes me tough.
Plays What a Wonderful World by Louis Armstrong
Where else did you go in terms of education?
From Lake Victoria, I was able to pass and was admitted to King's College Budo.
What was the motivation for the choice of Budo instead of Kisubi which was next door?
Growing up, these choices were dictated by parents. So, I suppose given my Anglican background, my father, I think he had gone to Ndejje but he had always looked up to Budo as the place to go. So, why would his son not go to Budo? So, when he said you pick Budo as your first choice, I naturally obeyed.
Did that dictatorship turn out to be a blessing?
Actually my father even dictated what I studied at university. But I think I do not regret the choices he made for me. Yes, he did decide that I go to Budo and that was a lovely six years.
Six years?
Yes. Coming from Lake Victoria, I was not the only person who left that school to go to Budo. So, there were a number of my compatriots. So, it was very exciting. Budo had all shades of people.
There were those who were extremely saved; naturally as a newcomer to Budo, there was a tendency to gravitate towards the church and be saved. For a moment, we were all saved in S1. But as we grew wiser and older, maybe we discovered the joys of living. So, we broke a few of the rules; we drank a bit of the local brew around the village, we smoked the old cigarettes and kissed a few girls. So, we had fun.
Did you then have an idea of what you actually wanted to be in life?
Looking back, the decisions we made were not necessarily the wisest, but were dictated by what the older boys and girls did or what we thought was the best. So, the point is that everybody aspired to be a doctor or an engineer or a lawyer. Actually very few people talked about being an accountant.
Or a journalist?
Yes. For instance, my son today tells me when he grows up, he wants to be a rap musician. And living in a liberal age, I have no problem with that.
But what would have happened if you told your dad you wanted to join say Crane band…
We even had a band at Budo. I didn't even get to carry the drums [I am not good at music]. I always had this aspiration that I would be a doctor. [But] I didn't work so hard. I don't think my O-level results were that good.
But at least they took you back to Budo?
Yes. And I was offered Arts. So, there is a sense in which you think that you have missed out. Maybe I should have been an engineer [or] doctor. But that is now with hindsight again.
Plays It's My House by Diana Ross
So, you return to Budo.
Yes, I return to do arts. I think in my A-level I realised that I had flanked my O-levels. Competition was such that you always knew you were smarter than the next kid.
So, it was a bit of egg on my face that I embarked on my A-levels. I said okay, it's arts; I will take it. I studied Literature, Economics and Geography and I think I did very well. I think that is how my education has been, blowing hot and cold.
When you came to university, what course were you offered?
Now going to university, I thought I would become a lawyer. But again I asked my father and he advised me to study B-Com and become an accountant. Again I agreed.
Why an accountant?
I don't know. Maybe he had a bad experience with lawyers. I always listened to my father. Every boy thinks his father is the greatest. So, my father asked me to study B-Com and I chose to study it. So, I went and studied accounting and graduated with a Bachelor of Commerce. That was at Makerere University.
At university, there is freedom unfettered: how did you receive that?
I think the university is a terrible place to be. Because here I was, just 18, I had a key in my pocket to my room. I had some pocket money and there were no rules. I think what we didn't talk about is the fact that when I joined Budo, my parents moved from Entebbe to Najjanankumbi.
And in all of this, my mother is a key figure because she was very foresighted. She always thought that because the family was growing larger, it was not prudent for us to stay in the African quarters. And my father had built a house in Najjanankubi where my mother still lives.
A rare feat for public servants!
My father was not a confortable civil servant. He was really a middle-cadre civil servant. I think he rose to the level of senior cartographer based on his education; he could not have risen any further.
But this is really the foresight of my mother. She thought that we would move. And when we moved to Najjanankumbi, the house was not finished. But my mother had put a foot down, and said no. This was around 1977.
I can't imagine what was at Najjanankumbi at that time.
There were very few families there. One of my aunties had found this property for us and she lived nearby. She kind of was a mentor to my father. She also passed on. She was called Enid Kabanda. She always guided my father on what to do…so, in 1977, we moved there. So, town was always close…
Back at the free university…
Books took some freedom and then we went out and partied at the freshers' party. There was the book allowance which maybe we didn't spend on books. But I think back then, looking at the kind of people we became, it's a pity that the issue of going to the university was based on the model where the government paid everything for you.
So, we grew up expecting that government must do everything for us…These things were not sustainable and they made some of us become the worst employees that ever worked for the government of Uganda because we had a sense of entitlement; we were more parasitic than useful to this country and we have largely remained so, which is unfortunate.
What a brutal honesty you have!
Apart from that sense of entitlement, I think what this entitlement did was to divide us into two groups. Even when I say I was not as privileged as some of the people I knew, maybe that is because I knew about privilege. But there were others who came and coming to university was the first time they were putting on shoes.
So, for us who were more like the second generation, many of us developed into a cohort of losers because we didn't stand and fight and do what it important for this country. And most of the development burdens had to be carried by those who had had a [worse] life than us. So, when the going got tough, most of my peers left the country.
I, too, could have left going to welfare states because of that sense of entitlement. I don't think we have done for this country what we ought to have done. When you think of it in terms of politics, business. But you have to remember that we also grew up in hard times. Because when I was in P3, in 1971, Idi Amin took power.
I recall very well Amin's kids being brought to Lake Victoria PS and they had this case of soda. I remember Mr Yeti saying that parents should not give their kids sugary drinks and I just couldn't make the connection. Anyway, going to King's College Budo through the Amin years, Obote II years, the Bakombozi who camped at the hill.
Those were terrible years, up to 1986 when we left the university. When I left the university is when there was change of guard; that was when the so-called fundamental change is supposed to have started. So, our schooling times were really tumultuous.
Plays Thriller by Micheal Jackson
At university is the time when you start to relate with people of the opposite sex: how were you faring in that field? Were you a vege or a cannibal?
I am very carnivorous. I have always remained like that. But that is why I say those were heady days. It wasn't until around 1987 that we begin talking about HIV. And that is thanks to the current president; he put his foot down and said we are not going to hide.
But in the heady days, everything went. You set aside the Judeo-Christian hypocrisy of people; basically this is a promiscuous society and there is a lot of tolerance of promiscuity. So, that is a life we lived and there is no way one would want to put a puritanical bend on it.
But did you manage to leave the university with your degree?
Going through university was really an accidental process because it never occurred to me that I was here to read and pass. Despite the fact that I had gone to the university with very good grades, I didn't leave with good grades, despite my capacity. And knowing what I was capable of, I still think I didn't work as hard as I should.
And that is the problem of the university…I think we managed to go through school because, what else would you do? We knew that if you left school, you would then go for a public service interview and go into civil service. So, we went through school, got the grades we got and went to public service. You got a job and you thought you would continue to be entitled.
[Ugandans] would pay taxes and you would get paid! I was interviewed for a job at Uganda Management Institute which I did not get. So, I had to wait a while. As I waited, I worked at a place known as Sapoba bookshop. But then I got a job in early 1987 in the ministry of finance... That is when my public service career kicked off.
The sense of entitlement then continued because I got government accommodation, I lived at Nkrumah road and I had this whole flat to myself with another colleague. There was a car provided by government. So, you see that misguided sense of entitlement, absolutely crooked. This is a problem that persists up to today.
Why don't we pay a living wage? So, you find yourself writing fuel bills which don't exist; ferrying matooke and charcoal on a double cabin which is supposed to carry files! So, this problem has not gone away from public service and I think public service can pay a living wage. But this is the story of Uganda.
I had a good job, it was very hectic, my boss, who is at the World Bank now Justin Zzaake, and former minister of Defence Chrispus Kiyonga were really workaholics. Luckily, I imbibed this culture of working hard, and I realized they were also Budonians.
I reported for work at 7am and left at night. But I could see the rest of civil service. I was asking: is this for me? So, at the earliest moment that I got a scholarship, I took off for further studies in 1989…I had first done a diploma in computer science at Makerere University in 1988. I went to the UK for a master's in Financial Studies.
Plays Nantongo by Afrigo
You sound simple but those who know you will tell that you hold many titles: take us through who you are right now.
I am a certified public accountant. I work with a firm called Ssejjaaka, Kawaase and company. This firm is actually in the process of transformation to become SNG Africa, which is an Africa-wide group; maybe we will have a name change.
Since retirement from Makerere University in 2014, I have been working to set up Abacus Business School. We are focusing on executive education. In my business life, I have always done some real estate but I think since about 2012, it has not been good, and we have been losing money. We have not had a recovery in this period.
So, I survive off the accounting firm and Abacus Business School. I think that being a member of boards is more of recognition of your capacities. Boards in Africa do not pay as much as people want to make them look... The average director in the United States in a fortune 500 company earns about 250,000 (Shs 825m) per annum.
The average director in Kampala, if he earns $20,000 (Shs 66m) a year is a top-north director. So, let's not put so much about being a director. And it comes with its risks. You can ask those who have been on the past boards of organisations such as NSSF.
From the UK, what next?
I went back to my government job, but it was dull and slow. I opted to join the university. There was a shortage of lecturers. I joined Makerere in the faculty of commerce then. That was around 1992.
Had you met somebody then?
I was in a relationship when I was working at the university. But my partner was posted to the World Bank. They say distance does what…? The relationship didn't work out and we each moved on.
But we are still in touch. We had two beautiful kids who are now adults. My son is a lawyer and my daughter is an assistant professor at the University of Maryland. So, I guess I can't complain about the results.
Is that all you have in terms of children?
No, I have more children.
What gets you angry Sam?
I don't know. I have been asked that question. I am the kind of person who is obsessive. I think I get irritated. When I get irritated, I tell you, I say it.
I think that is a weakness because small things such as not keeping time, being disorganized…some people say I am arrogant because I speak my mind but people who know me realize that I don't carry extra baggage because when I tell you off, I forget in the next 30 minutes.
What gives you a good laugh?
I play golf. I go to the gym. Life is a lesson, the failure, the experiences, the successes, they all make for one learning tool to the best of life. It is a finite period; it's better to be optimistic and enjoy the finite moment.
What would make for a good meal?
My wife is a good cook…When my first relationship broke up, I met my current wife. That was around 1992. We got married and we have a lovely family. She is such a good cook. She is Tanzanian.
She would always cook me this pilau and chapatti. But she is also a disciplinarian in terms of health. If it's not my wife's food, it is the other woman in my life – my mother. She cooks the real, real local food. I prefer the local food though.
How do you prefer to wash it down?
I don't want to live a choosy life; I will take what is there. If you start from the lowest common denominator, if I have a beer, I will have it. If you have tonto, I will drink it. But sometimes you talk of the finer things in life; in that case, a glass of champagne will do nicely.
Where will we see Sam five or ten years from today?
I am passionate about education. I am passionate about Uganda. I can see that we need to do a lot more; despite my humble beginnings, I have had quite a privileged life. I think I am at that point where I have to contribute, to give back.
I have started writing regularly in newspapers; I am taking the idea of Abacus school seriously; I think there is a serious shortage of managers. I think the unfortunate bit is that Ugandans do not believe in Ugandans, but we, at Abacus, promise to be successful, to build leaders who can build a better corporate world and industrial revolution in this world. I also need to write about my experiences, not an autobiography, but experiences in economics, politics of this country.
What about joining politics directly?
It is going to come. If you look at the people in our parliament, half of them shouldn't be there. They have never done a decent day's work. You can't walk from school to parliament! This is very unfortunate. So, I think in five years' time, I could also be ready to go to parliament…
If you were marooned on a desert island and allowed to take one person or thing, who or what would you take?
A library.
Plays Sorry by Justin Bieber
TRANSCRIPT: JOSEPH KIMBOWA
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