House of pain, those fishermen. To any sports team or personality that would be disparaging but for us the Mongers it was a mark of respect.
It was a clear sign of distinction. Yesterday I spent my day at the house that Adiga built in communion with my teammates as we said part of our continuing farewell to the big chief himself.
In my personal capacity it was the first time to walk the grass of the rugby grounds of Entebbe rugby club Busambaga.
A distinct pride for a team I once captained. I gained rugby reputation playing with the Mongers a team that became famous for being THEM.
Ronald Adigasi has more qualified biographers and I feel my chapter was inconsequential in the
grand scheme of things, for us who for a brief time-shared Mongers with him we used to refer to him as Adiga.
I first saw Adigasi when the U 19 team of 2007 had a spurring game with the senior team both of us were preparing for our respective continental show pieces, they won theirs, well don’t ask me about us.
The following year Uganda was playing in Cape town on the sevens world series, there he was, the big man with ferocious speed, the commentator kept reminding us how he was a tighthead in the longer version of the game.
The world has a funny way of bringing you closer to your nightmares. In 2011, I was with the Mongers. A long sojourn found me at the out of imagination Entebbe SS grounds fondly called the House of Pain.
A reputation acquired of course from taking on Kampala teams and putting them to the sword. Being at the Mongers felt like being part of the
Justice league, Olweny Batman, dark, mysterious, he hit opponents like he wanted them dead.
Adiga Superman, all powerful but just and a reminder of the mission at hand but even more
powerful and disciplined. Kigongo Sebalamu who were called Ben to spite after denouncing Christianity, Robin.
Never a quarrel he saw and heard of and didn’t want to join, his brother Tamale, the twins and the us the young band led by our party squire Sempebwa who didn’t miss a party in the radius of the peninsula for 3 years, Mukasa our fullback stayed sober enough to finish the game and get back to his only true love, we would see him at training again to the fury of Ben. Maiku as the flash, Elepu as the drunk uncle also the Big Punisher.
Adiga was off pitch a simple man whose sense of humor was consistent. It was a paradox, on the gridiron, he was the boss, I mean no opponent ever grew bigger than his ego. He believed any man had to face his problems head on.
Kashera as our brutal forwards play was known by the opposition was just simply Adiga sizing up the biggest and strongest man on the other side and using a combination of him and Olweny battering whoever had the dishonor of being close by as Oscar Ouma testified in Nakuru. All our forwards calls were related to the peninsula and fish in vernacular.
A tradition I cherished. I was also the number one line out target and it isn’t funny being hoisted by the duo. It was a matter of being left to fly and being brought back safely after writing your will.
Then the off pitch, he always had whatever he carried and by rule we ate together, the jokes we shared are X rated.
That is before he set off on that bike of his Yamaha. For him a family that eats together stays together.
For Mongers it is indescribable what he offered, it wasn’t just the best of him, it was all of him.
In 2012, all our team were pilfered by among other things the UN base whose ladies were on a mission to leave no bachelor on the team, we started the season 17 people.
The chief never grumbled, all quarreling was left to Ben that season as we shocked both Heathens and Kobs.
No one ever knew how thin we were that season; it was the most difficult season of rugby but it also gave us the feeling of invincibility. I think we had the MVP .
Apart from being a teetotaler, the decisiveness of Adiga is one of my enduring legacies of the man, I learnt from him.
For a time, the big man was unsettled, we learnt the trouble was domestic, as usual through his trusted side kick the team was summoned on Sunday conveniently after a rugby game.
The mission was simple sit in our usual war bus, that wagon that always transported the team for games. We had to pick a wife from Sembabule.
That is how we had an unusual introduction ceremony on Sunday where one of our teammates became fluent in the language of luwombo and earned an enduring nickname. We are thankful to the wife to being forever wise and adjusting convention to suit common sense.
Saturday is a rugby day and fittingly he will be laid down on the day he loved the most. To the people of Entebbe, a man died but the community lost a soul a man who truly stretched his wings and made sure his hometown has something to be truly proud of. The attention and grief is all palpable but like we used to say every game day.
