...I don't think he ordered all the killings. It is interesting when they say
most of the State Research Bureau boys were Nubians, but they were Banyarwanda.
They were literally mercenaries. And I am not sure they are not back in
[today's] Internal Security Organisation. ...
How former air force boss fled Amin's hatchet squad
Maj. Gen. Zeddy Maruru, a retired air force senior pilot, spoke to Rodney
Muhumuza
for this continuation of the first part of a new series in which senior
citizens tell their story and experiences about the governments under which
they worked. Here he recounts how he managed to escape arrest by Amin's State
Research Bureau agents
Maj. Gen. Zeddy Maruru
One morning in 1977, I decided to go and live in Kamwezi, Kabale, near the
Rwanda border. I stayed there for three days, not knowing that State Research
Bureau operatives would arrive on the day I left.
NARROW ESCAPE: Maruru during the interview. Photo by Uthman Kiyaga
I had told my workers I was going on safari. When I came back after three
days, I drove straight away to my cousin's house as I was still building mine.
As I approached my cousin's home, his wife emerged from the house. She knew the
sound of my car and I noticed there was something strange.
My cousin had gone into hiding after State Research Bureau agents were
advised by local Muslims to arrest my cousin if they wanted to know my
whereabouts. He had walked almost up to Ishaka [about 120kms], got transport to
Kasese, before connecting to Kampala.
I took a panya route [village path] and went to my parents' home, where I
damped the car and went to Kabale town. I had a few friends who advised and
promised to help me sneak into Rwanda, but I knew well enough that State
Research Bureau boys manned the borders.
I decided to come back to Kampala in disguise. I avoided using the taxi park
and fortunately I saw [Lt. Col] William Ndahendekire, who was the chairman of
Uganda Development Corporation. I walked up to him and told him I had a
transport problem.
He took me to his house, went back to town and returned later for lunch. He
then gave me a lift to Kampala, where my wife, who was working in National
Housing, was staying in the Bukoto Flats. She had been chased from our home in
Kololo.
I went to her flat and lay low as I organised myself. I was in that flat for
nine days, and my car had been brought from the village for sale. I wanted to
give it to my brother, but we had to transfer ownership. And it was a
requirement that both buyer and seller must present themselves at the revenue
office. Luckily enough, I found the licensing officer was my old boy at Ntare
School. I quickly told him I couldn't be around any more than I had done. I
signed something quickly and left through the backdoor.
I headed to the railway station, where I took a taxi to Bukoto. There, I
picked only my luggage, a briefcase, and went to the Law Development Centre in
Makerere. When my brother left the licensing office, he found State Research
Bureau boys had surrounded the vehicle.
The car was parked outside. They asked him where the owner of the car was and
he told them he had bought it long ago. But they were so illiterate that they
could not ask for the logbook to see that the transfer had been done that day.
They were confused and they let him go.
They rushed to Bukoto and laid an ambush near my wife's flat. Immediately my
wife entered the flat and switched on the lights, they came. They asked for me,
saying I was not in the village and my car was in town. They looked for me
everywhere and luckily enough they did not harass her. I spent the night at LDC
and at 6 a.m.
I was in the taxi park heading to Jinja and later to Tororo, where I had a
sister who was married to the headmaster of Tororo Girls' School. I told her it
was time to leave the country.
I contacted somebody I knew in Customs who promised to help. I spent the
night in Tororo, my Customs' contact having told me he would pick me at 8.30
a.m. the following morning. We drove up to Malaba border post. He left me in
the car. I could see policemen and State Research Bureau agents moving around,
but I had all sorts of guises. When he came back, we continued from immigration
to police, where he leaned out of the car window and said we were going for a
drink at Malaba Safari Hotel, just across the border. There was no beer in
Uganda anyway.
When we crossed the bridge, we indeed went for a drink at the Safari Hotel. I
left Uganda without an exit visa, but I was given an entry visa on the Kenyan
side, as they understood what was happening in Uganda. Just as I was at the
immigration, a Tanzanian friend who was working at the East African Development
Bank was also going to Nairobi.
He was alone in the car and he gave me a lift to Nakuru, where we had lunch.
We spoke on many issues except why I was leaving Uganda. It was at Nakuru that
he asked me if I was not running away from Uganda. He told me he would not keep
with me once we reached Nairobi, because the Kenyan capital was teeming with
State Research Bureau agents. He dropped me in Westlands.
Having studied from there, I knew my way around. I picked a taxi and went to
the home of Yonasani Kanyomozi. I found there several Ugandans in exile. I met
Akena P'Ojok, Tarsis Kabwegyere, Gad Wilson Toko, Ephraim Kamuntu and many
others, most of whom were teaching at the University of Nairobi.
It is unbelievable, but they had been talking about me how I risked being
killed by not leaving Uganda. "Stupid fellow, we have been talking about you
and now you are here," they said on seeing me.
I first stayed with Kanyomozi for a while in 1977, but soon Amin's agents
learnt of my arrival. They saw me in town, reported to Kampala and my wife was
dismissed from her job in National Housing. She also travelled by Akamba bus
and joined me in Nairobi. I later found somewhere else to stay and besides many
people were willing to help. Later, my brother brought our car to Nairobi,
ostensibly for repairs. It was a Mercedes Benz and we immediately sold it. I
used the money to rent a flat. Nairobi was very expensive at the time. But the
money sustained us for a year.
I got in touch with Ateker Ejalu in Arusha. He was, I think, an information
officer with the EAC. I moved to Arusha in 1978, and the anti-Amin struggle had
already started. Mr Ejalu, having stayed in Arusha for some time, was well
connected. He told those that mattered that I was a colonel from Uganda, and
Tanzanian intelligence seemed to be interested in getting the latest
information from me.
I was given a house and my wife was given a job somewhere. So when Tanzanians
started mobilising Ugandans to participate in the anti-Amin war, I was part of
that process. I joined the war as part of David Oyite-Ojok's Kikosi Maalum, and
we were here in 1979. We came all the way through Mutukula and Masaka up to
Kampala.
In terms of politics, I subscribed to the Save Uganda Movement. After the
fall of Kampala, the Tanzanians wanted me to stay with them at their
headquarters, so I didn't continue beyond Kampala.
When the war reached Koboko, we went to Mubende and Kabamba to select
qualified fighters to go for a cadet officers' course at Munduli, Tanzania. The
Amin I knew was unpredictable, but he was also a sociable guy. You could ask
for anything from Amin. And he could listen. But unfortunately, most people
feared him. Theres the case of the British professor, [Dennis Cecil], who was
charged and sentenced to death for treason after he called Amin a village
tyrant in his book.
That is when a senior British officer, Gen. Blair, was sent by the Queen to
plead for him. Amin called us to the Command Post for a meeting with him before
Gen. Blair arrived with the British High Commissioner. Amin asked what he
should do to Cecil, but unfortunately everybody was inflaming Amin, reminding
him how he had been insulted by the professor. Amin was asking individual
officers and nobody was trying to challenge what he had already decided on.
Then, asking me, he said, "You air force, ona sema nini [air force officer,
what do you think]?" I told him that a court was a court, but that we had to
look at the issue objectively. I reminded him that our army ran on British
equipment, that all our vehicles were Land Rovers and Bed Fords, etc.
I told him that our armoured vehicles, the so-called Saladins, were
British-made, and that we had been in the process of negotiating with Britain
for Harrier jets. I asked him if, after killing the man, he thought the British
would give him spares for what he had already purchased or even what he had
already paid for.
I said, "This character is about to die of old age. If you kill him and lose
all these privileges, will it be worth it?" He kept quiet, started sweating,
and just wiped sweat off his brow with his [bare] hand.
Then, Blair came and told Amin almost exactly what I had told him. So after
that, there must have been a question mark about me. How did I dare talk like
that and, two, how come General Blair spoke exactly what I had said? I was
under surveillance after that and it was not surprising in 1975 that he
dismissed me.
I wouldn't blame Amin for all the deaths that occurred, because his henchmen
would take it upon themselves to kill well knowing that nobody would care to
crosscheck if Amin had given the order. Secondly, the henchmen were too close
to Amin that even if the facts came up, it was believed that getting them
prosecuted was not possible.
I don't think he ordered all the killings. It is interesting when they say
most of the State Research Bureau boys were Nubians, but they were Banyarwanda.
They were literally mercenaries. And I am not sure they are not back in
[today's] Internal Security Organisation.
After the fall of Amin, I joined the Uganda National Liberation Army and
stayed at the headquarters at Republic House until 1981 when there was some
reorganisation. They formed three Brigades and I was to be in charge of the
Northern Brigade in Gulu for one year.
I was later transferred to the Western Brigade in Mbarara where I was removed
in 1983. I had had a few problems with UPC functionaries in Mbarara especially
the youth wingers. [Yoweri] Museveni was already in the bush at the time.
These youth wingers would go out- maybe they had good reason--and pick a few
Bahima [Museveni's tribe-mates] from Nyabushozi in Mbarara and dump them in
jail. There would be no statements to explain why the men had been arrested. I
was getting reports that civilians were being locked up by military police.
I ordered that those men be sent to the police, which had the capacity to
investigate. But they would be released, as there were no statements from the
arresting officers. So reports came to Uganda House [UPC headquarters] that I
was releasing Museveni's guerrillas. I was recalled to the army headquarters on
special duties but I had no appointment and no office until [Tito Okello]
Lutwa's coup [in January 1985].
During the Obote government, we were in the National Consultative Council. So
I was one of the MPs representing the Army in Parliament, but we hardly
attended. I was in Gulu and the war [against Obote II] had already started. I
said no to politics, but technically the ten of us were MPs. There was
Oyite-Ojok, Sam Nanyumba, Anthony Bazalaki, Francis Agwar etc.
So in 1983 I was on katebe [without deployment], but I would give advice on
military issues. William Omaria and Peter Otai were registering militias in
Teso, Tito Okello and Bazilio Okello had theirs in Kitgum, and Oyite-Ojok had
his in Soroti. So they would send me there to solve some problems. Many things
were happening; there was no discipline, and Obote's soldiers were looting
villages.
The National Resistance Army rebels were closer to civilians than the UNLA.
The rights and wrongs of that war is not my problem. I am looking at it as a
military man. If you want success in a war, you must be close to civilians.
Otherwise you will have no access to information. From the beginning, Museveni
had the upper hand because he had the support of the masses, although he later
experienced some logistical problems.
Then they needed a lot of improvement on the command structure so that by the
time Ojok died, Luwero had become almost impossible for NRA guerrillas. Then
wrangles, especially between the Langi and the Acholi officers, developed
within the UNLA. They literally joined the NRA at a time when Museveni was
withdrawing to make Mount Rwenzori his operational base.
I was still here on katebe and I got wind of an imminent coup through my own
sources. Although I was a senior officer, I got information from some of the
younger officers who could read messages passing through. It all started in
Kitgum and when it came to Kampala it was a misunderstanding between [army
chief of staff] Smith Opon-Acak and the Okellos.
Opon-Acak was a Langi and couldn't stand the fact that the man in charge of
tanks and armoured personnel vehicles was an Acholi and moreover a major.
Opon-Acak ordered that the vehicles, which were in Lubiri, be taken to Makindye
barracks where a Langi officer was in charge. The Langi refused, and there were
some clashes in Mbuya.
Then there was the so-called uncoordinated movement of troops, as [Paulo]
Muwanga announced. When the coup plotters started moving from Acholi, even the
other tribes joined. There was a lot of frustration; there was a shortage of
goods in the army, even uniforms. I was staying in Hotel Diplomat Muyenga
because when I left Mbarara I was not given a house in Kampala. I was told to
stay in a hotel. Someone came and told me that the coup plotters had come from
the north and were now in Bombo.
I knew the coup would be on the night of January 24, 1985. But I was wrong,
as it really unravelled the following day at 11 a.m. I had never seen a daytime
coup. I was seated at the balcony of Hotel Diplomat when I saw smoke going up
near the Post Office. They came all the way to Muyenga, some of them to loot. I
told [hotelier Bonny] Katatumba to give them a crate of beer to make peace
because they could have taken anything they wanted.
Announcements were being made that all officers should report. I said I would
not report with all the bullets flying around. They sent officers to take me to
Kampala Club. I asked them, "You think you have captured the whole of Kampala
to sit and call officers here, a targeted place?"
Obote had artillery on Summit View, putting Kampala Club well within target.
I told them I wouldn't sit there and we relocated to Kololo. I asked those who
had been involved in the coup plot, especially Bazilio Okello, to tell us what
was happening. Eventually Bosco Oryem, who was the chairman of Gulu, came with
a statement from Bazilio.
I could tell from its tone that the statement- in English- had not been
written by Bazilio. It was a statement to be aired on radio and it was
different from what Walter Ochola had already announced. Oryem was saying it
was to be read verbatim, that not even a coma was to be added. I told him that
I had been around for a while, and that in all coups the first logical thing to
be done is to suspend the constitution.
Otherwise, if there is a counter-coup, you face treason charges. Then I told
them that since Parliament was still working, we needed to dissolve it and
dismiss the whole cabinet. I told them to close the airport, and to stop all
foreign exchange transactions in the central bank.
Oryem said those bits had been forgotten. They were incorporated in the
statement I read on Radio Uganda. It remained Bazilio's statement, and I came
to read it by default. Eventually, having settled down, they began making
appointments. They appointed the chief of defence forces, the central brigade
commander, the chief of logistics etc. But they hadn't appointed the chief of
staff; there was a fight over who should take it. Tito was the head of state
and Bazilio was the chief of defence forces.
They wanted another Acholi to be the chief of staff. Then they remembered
they had been accusing Obote of tribalism, and that's how I came into the
equation. Tito made me chief of staff. I was a colonel, in fact the
highest-ranking officer from Ankole [available to the Okellos]. I was promoted
to brigadier on appointment, and later to major general, after it was noticed
that Bazilio, the lieutenant general who was my immediate boss, was two ranks
higher than me. I stayed until 1986 when the NRA came in.
I didn't go into exile and Museveni knew me from Tanzania. He sent his chaps
to look for me on the night they entered Kampala [January 25, 1986]. I met him
at Republic House that very night. I told him, "My friend, I have gone through
hell, a lot of bad times...Now that you have arrived, if you want me as
prisoner of war--fine. I was chief of staff of the army you were fighting.
If you want to let me free, let me go now." He said: "You have worked for
everybody, but you can't work for me or with me?" I said it was not the case,
but he insisted: "No, we shall think about it. You sit down and relax." So I
stayed in the army, without any real appointment. I remained in my house in
Kololo and [President Museveni] would give me some money whenever he felt like.
Later, in 1990, I became the general manager of Uganda Air Cargo, a company
with one aircraft. I was in the village when Museveni's boys came looking for
me, saying he had a job for me.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Michael BWambuga wa Balongo
---------------------------------
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