{UAH} Quite long but worth reading and sharing
Quite long but worth reading and sharing
I saw Kalimuzo Walk Into 'The House of Death,' – Kintu Musoke
By Conrad Nkutu
Daily Monitor
October 2005
Lawyer Alex Rezida's Monday article on the Late Frank Kalimuzo had two newsworthy points. First, a reflection on Kalimuzo's widely acclaimed contribution as a public servant. Second, the announcement by the Kisoro Development Association and Kabale University of a scholarship scheme for poor students from Kisoro in memory of that district's fallen son. A memorial lecture on higher education was held in Kalimuzo's memory yesterday, with Prof David Rubadiri as guest speaker.
But more exposure needs to be done to the serious human rights issues arising from the tragic death of Frank Kalimuzo and the thousands of other Ugandans who met violent deaths at the hand of Idi Amin.
Following the abortive invasion of Uganda in September 1972 by exiled Ugandans based in Tanzania, Amin went on a killing spree of prominent citizens. Amongst these were the Chief Justice, Ben Kiwanuka and Makerere University's Vice Chancellor Frank Kalimuzo.
Also murdered were eight ministers of the first Obote government, including William Kalema (Commerce), John Kakonge (Agriculture), Basil Bataringaya (Internal Affairs), Alex Ojera (Information), Joshua Wakholi (Public Service), James Ochola (Deputy Minister of Local Government) and Ali Kisekka (Minister to the East African Community). These people were abducted by the government and simply "disappeared." Their bodies have never been found by their families.
On reading Rezida's article, I contacted my cousin, Kirunda Kivejinja, who was repeatedly involved in attempts to intervene with contacts in Amin's cabinet to save the lives of friends in danger. I asked him what he knew of Kalimuzo's murder.
"Your best source of information is still alive," said Kivejinja. "[Former Prime Minister] Kintu Musoke was one of the last people to see Kalimuzo alive. He actually saw him walk into the room where he was killed at Makindye Military Police Barracks." I was quickly granted audience by Kintu Musoke, now a Presidential Advisor on HIV-AIDS issues.
Kintu had a moving story to tell. But it was clear that I was starting at the end of the Kalimuzo story. Clearly, that story had to begin with the murdered Vice Chancellor's widow. I tracked down Mrs Esther Kalimuzo, a now elderly beauty of Rwandese origin, to understand the events leading to Kintu Musoke's gruesome revelations.
Answering many potentially traumatizing questions, she remained calm and strong thoughout the interview.
"I met Frank in 1956 in Rwanda. The Bafumbira elite from Kisoro liked to marry girls from Rwanda. We were linked up by a friend called Leonard Nkurunziza. Frank was then an Assistant District Commissioner (ADC) in Mbarara. We got married on October 4, 1958 and had four girls and two boys."
"Frank became an Establishment Officer in Entebbe - mainly handling recruitment of African Ugandans for the independence civil service - and then an ADC in Kitgum before his appointment as Secretary to the Wild Constitutional Commission, which carried out nationwide consultations on the pre-independence Constitution.
At independence, he was appointed Permanent Secretary in the Prime Minister's Office, as well as Head of the Civil Service and Secretary to the Cabinet."
"In 1970, he was appointed Vice Chancellor. On January 25, 1971, we heard gunfire we had never heard before. The government was overthrown. Frank locked himself in a room for the whole day. He said the coup was the worst thing that had happened to Uganda."
"He had had a friendly relationship with Amin but the coup really worried him. He sought an appointment with Amin but was never granted one, which led friends to warn him to be very careful. Later the same year, Amin came to the university to be installed as Chancellor and even had a meal in our house. There was no obvious sign of danger."
"The problems began close to the invasion of September 1972. Frank told me he was receiving anonymous letters threatening him with death. State Research Bureau (intelligence) people came and told him that 'you are number 2 to Ben Kiwanuka, on the list' [of those to be killed]."
"Friends advised him to flee into exile, but he kept saying 'I have done nothing to Amin.'
During that September, just before the invasion, unknown people surrounded our Makerere house at night then rang the bell. We refused to open. They went away. The following day, Frank contacted people in security and reported the incident. He was told: 'we are the ones who sent them. It was a mistake not to have opened for them.'"
"My husband was immediately arrested and taken to Makindye, where he spent a day being questioned about bad relations he was alleged to have with some university students. He met "the students." They could name neither their academic courses nor their halls of residence. He was told there was no case and he was released the same day."
"The next day, we went to Kisoro to bury a man called Kabahizi. While we were there, the invasion happened and Mbarara and Masaka were attacked. We had no clothes or money and had left our children in Kampala. We had to get back quickly. We feared the roadblocks and some of our friends thought of going through Fort Portal but we feared that we would be asked why we were taking a roundabout route."
"After the invasion was defeated, we decided to return directly via Mbarara and Masaka in a civillian convoy with an army officer friend at the front. All soldiers were on tense alert with some in the bushes on the roadside. Many vehicles were overturned. We never spoke from Kisoro to Kampala."
"The following day, Radio Uganda, UTV and then BBC announced that 'Vice Chancellor Frank Kalimuzo has disappeared to Rwanda with [former Interior Minister] Bataringaya and [Mbarara businessman and UPC activist] Bananuka.' We had already learnt that those two had been murdered by Amin. Frank was shocked to listen to the media saying he had 'disappeared' with them! He looked at me and told me: 'I am finished.' He was killed that week."
"Frank rang the security people to say 'I am here' and they told him 'it is okay.' We spent the whole night awake. Joseph Mulenga (now Justice of the Supreme Court) came and offered to smuggle him to exile but he refused, insisting he was innocent."
"Three State Research agents came home the next morning at 8am. I think it was the first Sunday in October 1972. They were in a small Toyota. They wore long overcoats and very dark sunglasses. The whole family was there. We joined them in the living room.
"They said he was wanted 'to explain a few things' but that they were under orders to await telephone communication before leaving our residence. Terrified, we awaited the phone call in vain for over half an hour, after which my husband said to them 'let us go.'"
"He turned to me and said 'I am gone. Tell others. If there is anything I have done in my life to hurt you, please forgive me. Please look after my mother until she dies. I have not left much money but have a few properties. Be strong…' I was unable to speak. I did not answer him. Those days, they used to put important people in the boot of the car when arresting them. So Frank politely asked them which part of the car they wanted him to enter. They sandwiched him in the back seat. All the children were there watching…"
"I went to my room. The children did not go to school. I do not remember how she found out but Mrs Rhoda Kalema soon came to see me. Her husband, former Commerce Minister William Kalema had been murdered just days before and Frank, totally shaken by Kalema's 'disappearance,' had asked me to go and see her. Rhoda comforted me." (The two ladies are still friends. Mrs Kalema coincidentally called Esther Kalimuzo during our interview on Tuesday).
"My sister Elsa and our friend Ezra Bunyenyezi tried to follow up Frank's whereabouts. Because all his security communication had been with Makindye Barracks, they went there but were chased away. Radio Uganda announced the same day that no civillian should go to Makindye. A few friends gathered at our residence but most feared and would leave their cars a long way away and then walk to our house. Others could only call. Everybody was terrified. The Chief Justice and so many former ministers had been murdered. Acholis and Langis were dying…"
"On Monday, Frank's Secretary, Joy Kwesiga, packed all his personal files and brought them home. She was emotional but feared to talk. We remained in suspense, not knowing if he was dead or alive. After three months, I went to the Minister of Education, Prof Edward Rugumayo, a friend who had been a lecturer under my husband before becoming his boss."
"I asked him 'how long will I wait before I am told if Frank is dead or alive?' We had almost no food. Friends were bringing us rice… some sugar… Rugumayo told me he had been informed by a witness that my husband was killed in Makindye the day he arrived there. 'Don't ask anybody else about him,' he advised me."
"Prof Ali Mazrui came and asked me what had happened. He packed and left Uganda immediately after. The University Secretary wrote to me and told me stay in the house until further notice. After six months, I was asked to vacate it.
"I worked as a Secretary in Sabena Airlines but lost the job because I could not focus on what I was doing. I approached the Late Hon Sam Sebagereka and offered to do domestic work as a maid in his residence. Sebagereka refused and gave me a huge typing job to do, which lasted three months."
"I later went into business with my sister, who knew some Nubians (Southern Sudanese who now dominated the security services). We survived by getting allocation chits for scarce commodities from industries taken over by the government. Then we would sell the chits at the gate and get something… I later got a Pepsi Cola agency…"
At this stage of the interview, I informed Mrs Kalimuzo that the witness who confirmed her husband's death to Minister Rugumayo (I confirmed with Rugumayo) was the Rt Hon Kintu Musoke, a journalist-politician who was then a Director of Sapoba Printers.
This is Kintu's story.
"I knew Frank Kalimuzo very well. In September 1972, Chief Justice Ben Kiwanuka was abducted and murdered by Amin. It happened between the 11th and the 25th. I lived in Ntinda but had another home in Lungujja. Early in the morning, my wife wakes me and says 'there are people who want you.' I joked saying 'who are they? These days there are people who abduct people!' It was not a joke. They were wearing dark sunglasses and said they were from State Research.
"I asked them if they were sure it was me they wanted. They replied: "it is you we want!" I was in a gown. They had come in several cars. The house was searched. I told my wife: 'tell my friends I have been taken.' I was put into their car and taken to State Research headquarters in Nakasero (the current seat of the Internal Security Organisation). I was thrown into a room with blood-stained walls."
"I was terrified. William Kalema had just been killed by Amin's agents. After three hours, they took me into another room and interrogated me. They asked me whether I knew former Obote minster Ali Kisekka and other prominent politicians. I said I did."
"They were getting the questions to ask me from another officer concealing himself behind a half closed doorway. I saw his face and recognized him. His name was Mustafa. He had worked at The People newspaper. I called out his name. He immediately closed the door. The interrogators asked me if I knew him then led me back to the car. They wanted to search my Lungujja residence. Mustafa joined us in the car."
"During the search, he asked me: 'Kintu, why did you enter these things? The situation is very bad.' 'Which things?' I asked him. I was honestly innocent. They found nothing in the house. On the way to town, along Rubaga Road, Mustafa looked very worried about my fate. I knew I was going to die. They took me to the State Research Officers Mess at YWCA."
"To buy me some time, Mustafa told them to go and search my Ntinda residence again. Meantime, he asked me if I knew anybody in government who could save me. I mentioned Education Minister Edward Rugumayo and Foreign Minister Wanume Kibedi. Mustafa then called Sapoba Printers and told my other colleague Bidandi Ssali that my situation was bad and Bidandi should look for help for me. We then set off for Makindye Barracks."
"To impress the seriousness of the situation on Bidandi, Mustafa took us via Sapoba so that Bidandi could see I was in custody of State Research. He wanted to know if Bidandi had made any progress with the Rugumayos but Bidandi had not yet made progress. I later learnt that Kirunda Kivejinja had managed to get his cousin Wanume Kibedi out of a cabinet meeting and pleaded with him to save my life."
"At Makindye, they started roughing me up. The cell was a room in the former house of an army officer. There were about 20 of us in there, including Kayondo, a senior CID officer, and a royal prince of Bunyoro Kingdom called Jimmy Bikaju."
"It was the time of the invasion and the soldiers were tense and drinking heavily. They would drink a truck of beer a day and our work was to collect all the bottles the next day and load them onto a truck. We would go to town to load booze again. Civillians used to come to the chain link fence of the barracks to see if their relatives were there and alive and when allowed out of the cell, we would walk to within their eyesight to be seen and speak loudly to be heard."
"In the next room was former Information Minister Alex Ojera who was captured fighting Amin's army during the invasion, together with Picho Ali. They had been caught at Mutukula and were exhibited on TV by Amin, chained together and half-dressed. We used to throw food at them. Nearby was a building named 'Block C.' We called it Singapore, 'the House of Death.' No prisoner who went into that house came out alive."
"On a Friday evening, 45 people were brought into our cell, mostly Acholis and Langis. They were all Officers-in-Charge of upcountry police and prisons units. Their rank ensignia were ripped off their shoulders as they were marched into the room."
"The Military Police Commanding Officer, Col Hussein Malera, used to have me wash his car and clean up faeces dropped by his goats around his residence in the barracks. Makindye was a terrible place. The Chief Executioner was called Sgt Walugembe, a tall, slender man. He once put a 6-inch nail on my head with a hammer in his hand, and threatened to drive the nail in. One of the prisoners talked about, but whom I never saw, was said to be the brother of then Minister Henry Kyemba He never got out alive."
"That Sunday, we were outside the cell. I saw about 6 State Research officers and soldiers bring in Vice Chancellor Frank Kalimuzo. He was their only prisoner. Frank was barefooted and had no tie or jacket. He never spent a night in a cell. He was taken directly to the slaughter house. I was with Prince Jimmy Bikaju when I saw him."
"I have no doubt it was Kalimuzo. I knew him well on a personal level. Bikaju also knew him well because his sister was married to one Haji Mawejje who owned a petrol station in Wandegeya, near the university. Frank often used to buy fuel there."
"That Sunday afternoon, I was taken to another officer's house to do chores. On returning, I found all my 20 colleagues devastated. The 45 police and prisons officers plus the Ojeras had been taken to the House of Death where Kalimuzo had been taken earlier. Bikaju and the others, who saw the bodies, told me the Kalimuzos suffered death by hammering and battering of their heads."
"My 20 colleagues were ordered to load their bodies onto an army Tata truck. The bodies were never seen again. We were all ordered to clean up the House of Death, which was covered with blood, bones and brain tissue."
"The very next day, on Monday night, we heard a knock on the door. My name was called out. I feared to answer the first time. When they called me again, I said to myself 'it does not make a difference whether you die now or later.' I stood up and answered. The soldiers looked at me then closed the door. Later, I realized they wanted to confirm I was still alive."
"We had heard that the radio had said Minister Wanume Kibedi was in Mogadishu, Somalia, in peace talks with Tanzania – and he was my best hope so I knew I was finished. But a few days later, I was called to Col Malera's office. He had a letter in his hands but he was illiterate and failed to read it to me, choosing instead to throw it at me. It was from the State Research headquarters, naming me as a guerilla suspect and demanding my return to Nakasero."
"Convinced the end had come, I was driven back to Nakasero. It must have been Independence Day because the town was bedecked by flags. I was led to the office of the Director of State Research, Col Farouk Minawa. He spoke English. He asked me if I had been tortured. I said no. To my utter shock, he reached into his drawer, pulled out my passport, which had been seized during the house search, and said 'go!'"
I made it to the exit, located directly between State House and the French Ambassador's residence and walked towards All Saints Church. I had been in the same clothes for over two weeks and was quite a sight. I got a lift to Sapoba and was taken home. I survived because of Kivejinja's efforts through Foreign Minister Wanume Kibedi."
"Kivejinja had gone to my parents' home in Masaka to brief them on my fate and my father had just arrived at my residence when I arrived from Sapoba – a free man! But the joy was short-lived. So many prominent people were murdered in the following weeks and months… Ali Balunywa, Honourable Shaban Nkutu, so many people…" [Kintu's eyes fill with tears at this point].
"I met Rugumayo and Kibedi separately," he continued. "I told them what I had gone through and told them about Kalimuzo. I advised the two ministers that if they could not influence the situation, they should resign from Amin's cabinet and get out of the country. It is good that Kalimuzo is being remembered with honour."
With a brave smile, Mrs Kalimuzo ended the interview saying "We never saw Frank again and we never got his body… somehow, I managed to educate the children… the last word was Rugumayo's… and he too had to flee soon after…"
Editor's note: the writer of this article is a son of the Late Hon Shaban Nkutu, the eighth to die of the eight former Independence Cabinet ministers murdered by Amin. He was abducted by the army in Jinja on January 11, 1973 and murdered at Gadaffi Barracks, following which he was dumped in the River Nile. He was secretly buried in Jinja on Amin's orders. 32 years later on November 27, 2004, Nkutu's body was located and exhumed with the assistance of the grave-diggers who buried him, following a chance encounter between them and a member of the Nkutu family. He was reburied at his home by his family at a state funeral on February 12, 2005.
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