Tribute to Prof ‘Lugubrious’, Ugandan don who practised what he preached

You know that I am fascinated by connections, or even coincidences. They give pattern and poignancy to life, suggesting relationships in the apparently jumbled piles of our experiences.

I was, thus, struck by the fact that the memorial service for Binyavanga Wainaina was held at the National Museums of Kenya, where I first met him.

Even more startling was the emergence of an Instagram post by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie.

I had said that our sisters would tell us about their reciprocal love for Binyavanga Wainaina. Adichie’s post sounded like a direct answer to me.

She wrote: “My beloved ‘Canga’. There is nobody else remotely like you. Nobody. With you, I felt so known, so understood. And there is no gift, in a friendship, more precious than this. I love you. Always. Rest well.”

All I can say is that I wish I could hear someone, even if it was not Adichie, say such beautiful things about me. Maybe my speculations were not idle fancies.

Moving on to another set of connections, I was surprised to learn that the recently departed Ugandan elder statesman, Prof Apolo Robin Nsibambi, earned his doctoral (PhD) degree from the University of Nairobi (UoN).

You may have noted that the first name here is spelt with a single “l” instead of the expected double, as in “Apollo”.

This appears to be a local tradition, as may be seen in “Milton Apolo Obote”, or the unforgettable Sir Apolo Kagwa, who “discovered” Britain, according to the facetious book by Taban Lo Liyong.

Anyway, we were noting that Prof Nsimbambi, eminent political scientist, Ugandan prime minister for over 10 years and the first non-head of state to become chancellor of Makerere, was a doctoral alumnus of UoN.

Graduating from Makerere, like our Mstaafu Kibaki, with a University of London BSc in economics in the early 1960s, Nsibambi proceeded to the University of Chicago, where he earned a master of arts degree in political science.

Then he returned to Makerere and immersed himself in teaching and student welfare administration.

When I joined Makerere as a postgraduate student in 1968, Nsibambi was already rubbing shoulders, though in a junior capacity, with the political science heavyweights, like Yash Tandon, Ahmed Mohiddin and Ali Mazrui.

He was also dean of New Hall, currently Nkrumah, a male students’ hostel that is a twin and neighbour to Ngugi’s (and my) famous “Northcote” Hall.

Two things surprised me about Nsibambi’s UoN PhD, which he must have earned sometime in the early 1980s.

The first is that I do not know of anyone who actually noticed his absence from Makerere or his residence in Nairobi.

In those days however, postgraduate study, including master’s programmes, was a largely private and personal undertaking, with few or no residence or coursework requirements.

Another surprise about Nsibambi’s Kenyan and American connections was that his mannerisms were so suggestively British that most of us assumed that, like Kibaki, he had actually proceeded to London for his higher studies.

His dry, wry humour and his predilection for polysyllabic terminology (meaning his love of long words) made him almost a caricature of the typical British academic.

That is how he earned the nickname “Lugubrious”, although he was generally a jovial and friendly person.

The Anglo-African image had, anyway, been stamped on Nsibambi for most of his life.

From his childhood roots within the Anglican community through the corridors of King’s College Budo (Charles Njonjo’s high school alma mater) to the Makerere of his undergraduate days, the British brand was inescapable.

But Nsibambi’s study and research at UoN in the late 1970s and early 1980s probably inspired him to take his political science out of the lecture room on to the platform of public involvement in his country.

Being a descendant of Baganda aristocracy, he got into the action as a representative of the royalist activists who successfully negotiated with the National Resistance Movement (NRM) revolutionaries the restoration of the Buganda Kingdoms and other traditional institutions abolished by Obote in 1967.

Nsibambi then found himself in the unenviable role of intermediary between the NRM Central Government and the Baganda establishment.

The latter wanted a full-fledged federal system of government, where each region, especially their own, would have nearly full control over their affairs.

The NRM, however, preferred decentralisation (a kind of ugatuzi). When the professor, with his analytical insight, advised the federalists that decentralisation was the best that they could get at the time, they regarded this as an abandonment of the cause, and he had no option but to withdraw from the negotiations.

When Nsibambi was later appointed minister and eventually prime minister by Museveni, the traditional federalists regarded this as the completion of his crossover to the “other side”.

Yet somehow, Nsibambi never seemed to lose his personal respect among both supporters and opponents alike.

His secret probably lay in three traits of his character. One was his own personal honesty, or integrity.

In a field crowded with corrupt, crooked and treacherous characters, there never was a mention or rumour of a dubious deal by Nsibambi all the years he served in government, or the 35 he taught at Makerere.

The second characteristic that stood Nsibambi in very good stead throughout his public service was his excellent and outspoken communication. Whether you agreed or disagreed with him, the man always shared his views and opinions with unmistakable clarity.

Finally, Nsibambi was extremely disciplined and well-organised. The man was a perfectionist, and he accepted nothing less than the best from all those with whom he worked.

He was known as the professor who was never a minute late for any appointment.

Incidentally, the professor was a relative of mine. My maternal great-grandfather, Ramadhan Mukasa, was a great-great uncle of his.

It was Ramadhan who migrated, during the religious troubles in Uganda, and settled at Bagamoyo, where he begat my grandmother, Hajara Nakku.

Speaking of Ramadhan, our Muslim relatives deserve warm congratulations on completing the fast and the holy month.