By Gideon Mwanje
I appreciate this chance to say a few words about a woman I was proud to call a leader and my friend. It is with a profound sense of deep sorrow that I write this article, a few months after the untimely passing of my dear friend, Angella. A sudden accident stole her away. The grief is still raw, but in sharing her memory, we honor the extraordinary person she was and the bright future she was destined to lead.
Angella and I first crossed paths at the Law Development Centre (LDC) Kampala while we were both pursuing a Diploma in Law. What immediately captivated me—and so many others—was her natural confidence in the 2020 LDC Guild Elections being among six formidable men from the bar course, Angella stood as the only lady contestant yet from undergraduate. She didn’t secure the win, but her boldness, her willingness to step into that arena, was an undeniable inspiration. For those of us who watched politics from a safe distance back then, her campaign was a powerful lesson in daring to try.
Even as my own journey led me to the presidency of the Uganda Law Students Association, an association that unites all law student societies in Uganda. It was in this role that I established a scheme offering 50 scholarships for students across Uganda to study law for free. Angella played a crucial, behind-the-scenes role, recommending a number of deserving students who are still beneficiaries of the scheme today, even after my tenure in office.
She was consistently supportive, always liking my posts and cheering me on. She loved Uganda at heart. Despite her own rich political history and political maturity, she never allowed it to overshadow or take pride over other people’s endeavors. She was a true encourager.
One of the memories I treasure most is our trip to Rwanda for the “Just Lead” conference in July. I decided to take her along because she had expressed how much she desired to be in such spaces. I was among the guest speakers, but I must admit, Angella shone brighter than me.
She had a unique and compelling voice, capable of drawing the audience’s full attention. During the sessions, she would raise her hand and speak with a potent mix of conviction, authority, and perfect audibility. Everyone was captivated, and she was met with hearty applause.
I was also inspired by her WhatsApp status, always helping young orphans in babies homes.
Just a few days before her kismet, we spoke about another opportunity—a trip to Arusha, Tanzania, to meet with East African Law Society (EALS) officials and visit the East African Community (EAC) headquarters. She promised to reconsider it. I say this with a “sigh” that I will be going there in a few days without her.
Then came that shocking morning. A friend, Joab, called to inform me she had succumbed to an accident. I instantly refused to believe it. He urged me to check social media, and there it was—a deluge of messages from colleagues confirming the terrible news. I immediately contacted a close associate of hers who told me where the body was. Without hesitation, I boarded a means of transport from Entebbe to Mulago.
I found myself opposite the KCC mortuary in Mulago, where her body lay. Together with her beloved mother and a few family members—we entered the Uganda Funeral Services van that would take us to their offices in Bukoto. What is etched in my mind is the image of her lying quietly, peaceful with her rosary around her neck.
Although she untimely met her kismet, she had utilized the time given to her by inspiring and standing her ground on things that concerned the community.
She was a vocal critic of the regime’s dictatorial and authoritarian rule. She challenged its governance, from unpopular youth policies to the dangerous state of our hospitals, roads and system.
Her arguments against the system were strong, but the system’s failure proved fatal.
It is a System in Shambles, institutions built on personality cannot function transparently, the system is broken, and it’s leaving us to bleed. Leaders who swore to serve are now mere spectators, watching as the rest of us are in survival mode. The money given away to individuals is worrying, 2 billions could revolutionize trauma care in Kampala, but it’s nowhere to be found. Meanwhile, individual pockets are lined with cash, and politicians inject billions into their own campaigns with elections that have little tangible influence.
What’s the logic? Is it that saving lives isn’t a priority? It’s a machine designed to serve the few, while the many suffer.
I recall a voice, once dismissed, now echoing in my mind: “They’re just playing politics.” She was right. We were so caught up in our differences that we missed the bigger picture. The system isn’t designed to work for us; it’s rigged to serve itself.
My friends, a nation doesn’t fall when it is attacked from outside, it falls when the leaders forget what they owe to the Citizens!
History teaches us that when conscience becomes tired, the nation becomes a victim.
Until then, we’re just surviving, not living. Everyone in Uganda is “Just” surviving…. It is in Uganda where every road user is right, cyclists are right to use pedestrian pathways. No one cares!
My friend died because the neglected traffic system and facilities couldn’t help her. Lying bleeding for long without a Trauma Care System, her death is a direct result of the systemic breakdown she dedicated her life to opposing. Rest in peace, Angella. The author is a Lawyer and Youth Leader. (For comments on this story, get back to us on 0705579994 [WhatsApp line], 0779411734 & 041 4674611 or email us at mulengeranews@gmail.com).
