I have never stepped in Mbarara or Kabale towns, for example, and neither have I been to Fort Portal or Lira. However, I have always craved to go to Masaka, a place famed for its folklore stories and conservative cultural norms, never mind the accidents on the road and the stereotypes about its people – the Bannabuddu.
A long-time friend offered me an all-expenses-paid weekend to Masaka just in time for the finale of the annual Royal Regatta, a boat competition among Buganda’s 18 counties, at Nabugabo sand beach.
On the way, an aura of entering new territory strikes the moment one drives into Lwera, a vast lowland with nothing but swamps and large swathes of rice. I noted that on this flat, long stretch, car speeds exceed 100km. There was no time for stopovers until Masaka town, where hordes of revellers were gearing up for the regatta with reckless abandon on the streets.
Almost immediately I felt a sense of rare commonality among the people here, especially in the way they relate with one another. A 20-minute drive to Nabugabo was not without incident, especially at the several royal arches (ebiyitirirwa) where Buganda cultural diehards demanded money from motorists. It was almost abominable to drive on without placing something in the baskets.
At Nabugabo, thousands turned up early but there was hardly any scuffle associated with such huge crowds as it is in Kampala. Beyond the excitement of the regatta and the fanfare associated with it, storylines amongst revellers centred on places of abode as well as the treasured cultural values of Banabuddu.
A security officer who tried to block a heavily-pregnant woman from accessing the venue was called out by the crowd that reminded him that in Buddu culture, pregnant women are given first priority in all walks of life. Many arrived in groups of five to 10 people to support their county Buddu, a cluster that includes other districts such as Lwengo, Bukomansimbi and Kalungu.
Once inside the expansive area, I noted some couples had already booked strategic corners for merrymaking. The Kabaka’s arrival sparked joyous scenes and his security struggled to keep his subjects at bay but their crude methods only angered the surging crowds.
For a moment, I wondered whether Kabaka’s military guards are protecting him or actually endangering him with their reckless dispersal of crowds.
The political undertones
Then came the scramble for visibility among Masaka’s prominent people. Nearly the whole greater Masaka political leadership was in attendance but it is the jostling for the Kabaka’s handshake that sent a few tongues wagging.
I noticed Fred Mukasa Mbidde had already branded the venue by virtue of being one of the sponsors for the event. He is one of Uganda’s representatives in the East African Legislative Assembly, but has expressed interest in the Masaka municipality parliamentary seat currently held by Mathias Mpuuga.
The two politicians sat a few metres from each other and during breaks, event MCs did not shy away from reminding everyone around how Mbidde had sunk a fortune into the event and how he should be rewarded in 2021. The tension was palpable as Mpuuga wore a firm look as Mbidde drew cheers when he knelt to greet the Kabaka, just like the event organiser Ben Misagga, had done.
The Kabaka would later flag off the competition and fittingly, the Buddu team exercised might to win the boat competition with ease, sending the revellers into thunderous celebrations. However, what was supposed to be a joyous celebration for organisers turned gloomy when it emerged the day’s gate collections had allegedly been stolen by one of the organisers popularly known as Abitex.
By the time dusk set in, the Kabaka had already left but the party was just starting for many revellers, some of whom were enjoying a swim in the lake with little care about their lives.
Nightlife
It was time to switch back to Masaka town, where my host initiated me at Caesar’s Palace bar on the outskirts of the town. It is here that several bigwigs returning from the regatta met. I learnt that this is where Masaka’s affluent spend their money and it was evident from the price of drinks, with a beer costing Shs 7,000.
Minutes later, Mbidde arrived and declared an open bar. I expected a stampede at the counter but, to my surprise, the order was maintained; my host and other patrons reminded me: “Banabuddu bakakkamu, tetulina mululu”, meaning that people from Buddu are calm and not greedy.
By 10pm, it was time to hit the Masaka-Mbarara highway and head to Tavern Kick in Kyabakuza, which is a 10-minute drive. I actually found Kyabakuza more vibrant than Masaka and Tavern Kick is quite a nice place, only that their blend of music was almost limited to Buddu artistes.
And the DJs did not shy away from expressing their love for promoting their own such as Geoffrey Lutaaya, Eddy Kenzo and Mathias Walukagga, who got a thunderous reception when he stepped in. By midnight, it was time to hit the road again to Club Ambiance, the so-called number one spot in Masaka.
Here, it was a huge struggle to get parking space but once inside, Club Ambiance matches Kampala’s most exclusive clubs in class. The sound is also quite good and apart from the overcrowding and poor customer service, it is such a marvel to be in.
Time check 2am and Maria Flo, a short distance away, was the place to spend the night. With more than 200 rooms, it was a hustle to locate the actual room. However, I was shocked to wake up to the sounds of Catholic hymns the next morning, only to learn that the hotel is sometimes booked for mass by some groups.
The town
On Sunday morning, activity in Masaka town was understandably dull. It is actually much cleaner than Kampala. Most of the banks and government institutions are housed in old-fashioned buildings probably from the colonial era and I noticed there are hardly any high-rise buildings or arcades, which is an irony, considering that Masaka tycoons own most of Kampala’s arcades.
“It doesn’t make sense to build a big shopping mall here because there are few businesspeople that can afford rent,” said my host. “It would have made sense if the main Masaka-Mbarara highway passed through town because that would ensure a lot of trading activity.”
Indeed, my host was just one of the many Bannabuddu I met who expressed disappointment with the highway bypassing Masaka town. In fact, they are also not happy Masaka was not elevated to city status, a deliberate ploy, they reason, to marginalise Banabuddu because they vote opposition.
When I engaged them on what it would mean for Masaka to be declared a city, they instead asked me what makes Arua, Fort Portal or Soroti better than Masaka. One said it would bring honour to Buddu.
Meanwhile, in my three hours of traversing the town, I could not find any of the high-profile food or supermarket chains. It seems Masaka locals prefer to buy stuff from small shops that dot the main streets.
However, what Masaka falls short of in shopping, it more than makes up for with good meals. Even the smallest eating joint here serves good food that Kampala restaurants can only dream of. For just Shs 5,000, I got good matoke and chicken that would normally cost Shs 12,000 in an average Kampala eatery.
“We are not into the junk-food like you people in Kampala,” my host said. “Here, we prepare food in the traditional way to reflect our heritage.”
However, most of the activity on Sunday was on the main Masaka-Nyendo road as locals prepared to travel to Luweero for the Masaza Cup game against Bulemeezi. The sheer recklessness of the football fans blowing vuvuzelas as they swung from the metal bars of Fuso trucks was as breathtaking as it was scary.
Many of them were clearly intoxicated but even the two traffic police officers on the route got caught up in the passion and simply waved them on with thumbs-ups. I lost count of the Fuso trucks and taxis heading to Luweero and this only served to reinforce the widely-held belief that organisers of the tournament prefer to have Buddu go as far as possible because it has the most passionate fans.
In all the euphoria, the often-used stereotype that Masaka people are ‘village show-offs’ came to the fore. They love to stand out by branding their cars with all types of stickers and colourful extras. It may have been daytime but the parade of cars heading to Luweero had many with weird spotlights and cheeky banners. That is a Munnabuddu for you, apparently.
Sports
Of late, Masaka has been known to be dormant in sports but the new rugby ground just after Nyendo may be the best thing to reinvigorate the town’s historic sports attributes. It sits on almost three acres complete with a bar, training area and huge parking space.
I met Herman Kasozi, the rugby ground owner who told me of plans to make it a huge stadium.
“Rugby is till new here but it is picking up fast,” he said.
On the other hand, the famed Masaka recreation ground is in a sorry state with a bumpy surface along with dirty toilets.
…..
After more than 24 hours getting a feel of Buddu, it was time to head home on Sunday evening. The current rainy season brought a bumper harvest for many of Masaka farmers not to mention those in the nsenene business.
Grasshoppers are a big deal to Masaka; several homes on the outskirts have multiple drums and tanks in which long poles are propped with bright lights at the top. My host told me some people have had to cut down surrounding trees because they block the light that attracts the grasshoppers!
In Nyendo, a sack of nsenene was going for Shs 30,000, the same amount that can only get you about five cups in Kampala. On the way to Nyendo and Lukaya, farmers selling mangoes, potatoes and aubergines lined the road, but what stood out for me were the tomatoes.
I got a full basket for just Shs 10,000, the same amount I use to buy just a few in Kampala. One farmer boasted how he had sold his half-acre of tomatos to Kenyan businessmen for Shs 20m.
Meanwhile, it is widely said that the journey to Masaka is not complete until you find an accident and indeed, I met a Fuso lorry that had skidded and overturned in Lwera after a downpour. Luckily, eyewitnesses said no one was seriously injured.
Another heavy downpour in Kayabwe made visibility almost impossible and the driver rammed into a hump, sending me briefly flying. The relief I felt upon getting home has now given me new understanding of someone boasting that, “Nasala Lwera (I crossed Lwera)” because the journey is indeed eventful.
