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Robert Kyagulanyi and High School Rugby Memories

Every time I am asked my thoughts on Robert Kyagulanyi as President my mind wanders. It is the ultimate extremity. As much as I support the man from Gomba who made his bones in the ghetto and was finally refined as wine, I do understand the shock his popularity brings to the class mistakenly referred to as elite. Of course, you must quote obscure sources bordering fiction like Taleeb and the Black Swan.

See back in the day my school toured to play rugby. The early 2000s were hell for rugby. One fixture had us play Kabojja. For the uninitiated, that was the school. Where only the cool kids were invited, even the girls wore trousers and had hair plaited. English was spoken like the queen personally watered a garden on campus. We were so scared of Bojjas people that if a girl told you she was from there you run to Gyza, Sunsas, Nga and of course my brethren preferred Bweranyanji. Rumour had it they didn’t do Cantab rather Cambridge and would soon head out to dine in the land where people had winter and you sat in the Big bird.

So basically, the Bojjas team came out decked in the England kit, for us we were a rag tag assortment of sports shirts representing the various houses we were affiliated to. Amongst our ranks we had new converts picked off the football pitch, volleyball court and others I suspect from the dining hall basing on the aggression shared as they scrambled to “land” others.

Midgame a linebreak occurred and the men in white scored a try. Our captain, we antagonized had failed to tackle the culprit. Every time he put chase and got close, he feared bringing dirt to the kit of the world champions. Full of awe of the opponent, he let us down and we conceded. Something we always remind him close to 2 decades since he was the culprit.

We rallied back and used “local” energy to beat the swag boys, including a missed try because one of our converts after running the breadth of the pitch hadn’t been taught how to ground the ball hence a try. He committed the cardinal sin of dropping it.

I wish I told you we stole the girls after like real conquering heroes, that would be a lie, we were more content with girls who preferred written letters to those who wanted our phone numbers. My other friend always says it had a lot do with the way we handled the English language at that time.

Sorry back to Kyagulanyi, have you seen how our inferiority complex had us almost lose a game because the other team were better kitted out and were communicating in English? We don’t even know why we started the game as underdogs.

Our opponents had assumed because we surely couldn’t fit into the class of English they spoke, we weren’t worthy adversaries. I won’t claim it was one of the reasons for the eventual collapse of that school.


Written by Zeno Othieno Owora

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