In yet another close brush with death, President Museveni was a moving target, scampering through the streets of Mbale with gun meters away behind his back and locals giving him a chase for they thought he was a petty thief! This indeed is the third record time that Museveni survives death by a bullet!
On 22nd January 1973 at 5:00 pm, Museveni together with fellow student combatants; Martin Mwesigwa a lawyer and alumnus of Museveni, and Wuku Mpima, an A-level dropout, drove into Maumbe Mukhwana’s home at Maluku Estates in Mbale town, at the house number 49.
Maumbe had been their contact for quite a time, coordinating resources and deliveries, as well as teaching. During the initial stages of the war against Amin, Maumbe’s home had acted as a meeting point for the students’ movement and the occupants at the house had become accustomed to the rampant visits of the students disguised for all manner of reasons.
All was well with the visits, until (it is believed) a relative of Maumbe grew angry with him after asking a financial favour which Maumbe declined.
Sources claim that the relative had actually asked for money to buy cigarettes but Maumbe did not furnish him with such a resource. Enraged and disappointed, the relative went to provide a tip-off to security operatives about Maumbe’s meetings with students.
Unfortunately for Museveni and his colleagues, they were more focused on the war than the side shows that could hamper its progress, so it never occurred to them that such a tip-off could regroup the army to mount a search for answers, the signs were there but still they overlooked them.
On the fateful day, as Museveni and colleagues searched for Maumbe in Busiu where he had an unfinished building to store items, they did not find Maumbe so they decided to locate him in Maluku.
On their way to Maluku aboard a Volkswagen, Musevenis were trailed by a Peugeot car that twice overtook them, its occupants lowered windows and peeped into their (Museveni’s) car, and sped off again.
This should have provided necessary intelligence to Museveni and colleagues that the venue for their meeting needed revision. Alas, they proceeded and docked at Maumbe’s home.
At Maumbe’s home, children of Maumbe played soccer outside, while Museveni and colleagues interfaced with another day visitor, Patrick Bukeni who had returned from his sojourns in Tanzania.
Museveni and Bukeni had a probing moment with each other, the latter was more concerned with Museveni’s strange “army-type” shoes. At the same time, the former was more engrossed that he found someone who was well-versed in Tanzania like himself.
Maumbe’s wife, Elizabeth Beth Maumbe had walked in prior, and the Museveni who had been waiting for half an hour briefed her mostly about their hunger, to which they suggested a cup of tea and some accompaniments would bribe their stomachs into temporary satisfaction.
Beth, a teacher by profession lamented that she still had a few days to earn her monthly peanuts. However, Museveni was still available to secure the situation, dishing out an Shs20 note to settle the matter once and for all. Shs20 was a lot of money at the time.
While Beth wheeled off to the shops, she noted to the visitors that some security personnel were reconnoitring the neighbourhood, and left the men to continue with enthusiastic talks to shape their appetites for a tea bonanza.
At this point, Maumbe’s mother bolted into the house and hastily speaking in the local dialect Kigisu wailed to Bukeni that “her children are going to die”, Bukeni gathered his briefcase and taxied out of the scene.
Another messenger also walked into the room and mentioned to Museveni and colleagues that soldiers were coming towards their direction, and so did Beth who returned to confirm to them that indeed, being surrounded had become a truth!
Museveni and colleagues at this point started an elite debate, on whether to prescribe the soldiers with a shoot-out or stick to the guise of being students that they were.
Wuku Mpiima was silent, Museveni was willing to go for the kill and fight their way out of the situation, but Mwesigwa thought there were more peaceful ways out, blackmailing Museveni with talk about his irresponsible thought of opening a fight in a home of a man (Maumbe), while his children and wife watched and remained in jeopardy!
Defeated, Museveni humbled his violent ambitions and chose to follow Mwesigwa and Mpima to a trio parade at the veranda outside the house where the soldiers had summoned them.
They were interrogated and they said they were students, soldiers now asked who owned the car that was parked in the compound, and Museveni answered in the affirmative.
He was ordered to open the car with the barrel of the gun resting by his rib side, it was at this point that he knew they had been cooked, unfortunately, at such a moment, it was no longer possible to caucus for another solution, and whatever one chose at the moment was detrimental in every way.
Museveni on going around the car suddenly made a dash, jumped over an edge and tore hell for leather! This took the soldiers by utmost surprise for it was not until Museveni was within head start position that one was ordered to pursue him.
“It was a wonder of miracle that I jumped over it, it almost tripped me,” Museveni said of the events.
Museveni, with a pistol by his belt, made a mad dash about town, being pursued by a soldier who shot towards him at random.
Locals gathered in excitement and helped to pursue Museveni who at this point was being mistaken for a petty thief. Gun at his back, locals side chasing him, Museveni’s luck was waning, he needed to pull another rabbit out of the hat.
“… now being almost cornered and captured by the innocent civilians who thought they were executing their duty in capturing a thief, I stopped and fired at my pursuer a number of times. That was the magic wand that I deployed. Both the pursuer and the zealous wananchi evaporated,” Museveni narrates.
At this point, he had struck the sea with Moses' stick, the path opened and he sprinted into a thicket.
In the meantime, the pursuer had developed cold feet, and most importantly he had taken a shot in the arm, he sauntered back to his colleagues, shouting “mjama amenipiga”( Lad shot me), while holding onto his arm.
At this point, Mwesigwa and Mpima were staring at their last moments, their knees on the ground, Beth behind them, they were felled by bullets at once.
Beth scampered to nowhere, Museveni was far off in the thickets, and his colleagues lay dead with their pistols by their sides.
Men that had come for a mission talk, had been separated by ideas on engagement, further torn apart by individual swiftness, and their fate settled differently by God’s mysterious dealings! Museveni lived to escape to Nairobi and later become President through the guerrilla war fight!