For a while, many of us have had theories of how Arnold Mugisha the Hickory bar boss’ demise acted out. However, some of his brothers where at the scene and they narrated the tale that many of us didn’t know to one of their friends, Benezeri, a renowned musician.
Here is the tale;
My name is Wanjala. My two slightly younger brothers, Higenyi and Duallo, get into a Toyota car and drive to a nearby gym. Duallo is still at university, and Higenyi has just completed. We are very close, because we are all we have. No one can love us unconditionally, except our parents of course. Speaking of our parents, mum and dad are very proud of us.
We have grown into three handsome young men. We have excelled through school and we have remained humble and simple. Our parents’ hearts are full. How sure am I of this? Well, our mother keeps posting pictures of us on social media, telling us how she loves us. Our dad doesn’t post as often but in the pictures (and in real life of course) everyone can see the love. We are a unit. Everyone that truly knows us keeps gushing about how “down to earth” and nice we are.
Well, Duallo has been studying and he’s back and we are all so happy to be in each other’s company again. We are all we have. We complete our work out and we are in a great mood. We stop by at a nearby outlet to buy some water. Some of the details are hazy. I can’t remember whether I stayed in the car or not. I just remember that as we got back into the car, the (now empty) trolley we were using to carry our items rolled and hit another Toyota car.
I go to the car to establish whether it’s been damaged, but I can’t see a scratch or dent. So I head back to our car so that we go home.
On my way to the car, a security guard approaches and informs me that I can’t leave before the owner of the car comes to assess the situation of his/ her car. I try to explain that as far as I can see there is no scratch or dent but the security guard isn’t relenting. I offer to give him my numbers and (I can’t remember this part clearly) probably some money. However, he doesn’t accept. He insists that I must remain. I decide to head back to the car and my bros and I get in. We are getting ready to leave and then to my surprise the guard picks the key from the ignition.
We get out of the car and try to get back our key. A scuffle ensues, in which my youngest brother (b. 1999) gets bruised on the hand and his jaw gets swollen as well in the fracas. We succeed in getting the key back. We get back into the car. How can a simple thing like a trolley lead to all this? We can’t wait to share the story with mum when we get back home.
The security guard doesn’t concede. He stands behind the car and says to us that we aren’t going anywhere. As we reverse the car, we hear a loud scream. The security guard is saying that we’ve rolled over his foot. As we are trying to debate whether or not he is telling the truth, he starts shouting to his colleague to “bring the gun”. The colleague brings the gun and takes aim.
Our windows are closed; we were on our way out after all. Our youngest brother Duallo is seated at the back and so we ask him to put his head down. During the scuffle the security guard had said he can kill us, and he looked serious. After some time, Duallo decides that he is going to run and tell the manager. So he heads towards the entrance of the mall. He doesn’t make it. Halfway, he hears a gunshot.
He rushes to the car. I’ve been shot in the jaw, from the back. My two brothers, all I have, who my parents love, who are each an important part of our unit as a family, who inevitably look up to me because I’m the oldest; they decide to rush me to the hospital. They pray that I survive. I don’t.
My name is Arnold. My brothers are Andrew and Aaron.
As a Christian it’s hard to wrap my head around things like these. Could this also have been part of the plan of our God that loves us? I can’t answer that. One day, it shall all make sense. We shall all be united in the afterlife.
However, there is something even more difficult to understand. When did we lose our humanity to the point where we can say things like “he deserved to die”? I am in multiple Whatsapp groups and yesterday I was brought to tears. I also some screenshots of Facebook comments. What does this say about us? We can side with a killer and even applaud his actions when he shoots an unarmed civilian point blank? We are human beings first of all, we are Africans, and we are Ugandans. We are supposed to be one.
Some might say, it doesn’t matter now, does it? He is dead and gone. Let me tell you why it matters.
Two reasons; One, the deceased doesn’t feel anything right now. He isn’t here to see the inhumanity and the cruel hearts of his fellow countrymen. However, his family and friends see it. It’s extremely painful because they are already trying to go through this hard time, and people’s comments are making it harder. I had the privilege of meeting him. I was introduced to him by his brother Andrew. Everyone that has interacted with him and his brothers will tell you how humble and simple and kind they are.
However, tribal stereotypes have caused people to draw wrong conclusions. I was particularly disappointed in a publication that led their front page story with this headline “The Price of Pride”. I didn’t read the story but that isn’t the way to craft a headline.
The second thing is; what precedent does this set? Is it excusable for any security guard to kill anybody they encounter because “they (security guards) go through a lot, they earn very little, they have many problems, so be careful when you encounter them”? I am the oldest of three boys in my family. This incident hit me so hard because I realised it could have been me, and nobody would bother to get the other side of the story from my young brothers. It could be any of us.
Yesterday it was Arnold, tomorrow it could be you.
Personally, I believe that the arrogant ones are the security guard that shot Arnold, and the Ugandans that are unashamedly in support. It’s regrettable that the security guard was beaten up badly afterwards. I hope he recovers to full health, and gets prosecuted so that he can reflect on what he has done, in prison. That’s sufficient punishment. In fact there is no punishment greater than that.
It’s all on Musician Benezeri’s Facebook account, a close friend of the deceased.
