Ugandans have rediscovered an old mourning habit that had been more or less abandoned. An old Luganda saying has it that nobody ever dies without another person having to take some part of the blame. And so it is that, with fewer people dying of accidents and other unpredictable causes these days, when someone dies we start looking for an explanation of why it was not prevented.

The latest high-profile death was of football legend Paul Hasule. Now Paul, a very likeable guy, was missed by many. I had a few drinks with him myself. He left a number of records behind that have yet to be broken. As national captain and later national coach, Hasule had no equal over the last 25 years. From the peak of Ugandan football under coach/manager Bidandi Ssali in 1978, no other coach has given as much hope to the country as Paul Hasule.

While devoting most of his time to soccer, Hasule found time to party and enjoy life. He also had a unique gift for relating to the mavericks among the players, including another record holder, Andrew Mukasa, who holds the national scoring record. Like other national records, it also took a quarter of a century before Mukasa broke the record. Now, it was believed that only Hasule could secure Mukasa’s co-operation when a crucial match was pending. Otherwise, Mukasa always seemed to find better things to do when his team needed his services, like going training with the rival team.

So the great Hasule passed away at the close of last month. During the funeral service, lying in state at Nakivubo stadium, and at the burial in eastern Uganda, fans poured out their wrath.

Among other things, they rejected the "cheap" coffin and truck that the police (he had been their club coach) had provided. They instead procured a more respectable coffin and ambulance to transport the body.

They then accused the national football body of neglecting the star while he languished at Mulago hospital in his last days. The fans did not say exactly what they themselves did for Hasule that the people they were blaming had not done.

At the burial, millions of shillings were pledged to help Hasule's family. But one of the speakers remembered to tell those making the pledges to honour them rather than simply earning themselves praise from the mourners with high-sounding promises.

A few weeks before Hasule, another widely liked Uganda, James Wapakhabulo, passed away. Wapa, as he was popularly known, was the nation's minister of foreign affairs at the time of his death. He probably fared worse than Hasule for he died in his house, a few minutes' drive from Mulago. It may never be known why no last attempt was made to save Wapa's life, but one of his sisters had some harsh words for the government during the funeral service. She wondered why the state, which did not hesitate to send her brother to faraway lands on official duty, could not take him to hospital.

Incidentally, both the "neglected" luminaries, Wapa and Hasule, hailed from the same part of Uganda.

From such reactions, one thing is becoming clear -- that people should be accorded some dignity in their last days. Die we all must, everyone accepts that. But under what circumstances? There is an e-mail that circulated recently describing the flight formation of migratory birds. It explains how, if one of them becomes too weak to keep pace with the rest, a number are detailed to stay behind with it until it recovers or dies.

Ugandans seem to be asking themselves and their leaders whether they can't do better than these birds. Should the last memories of a loved one be clouded with images of rags and deprivation? If important people can lack sufficient insurance cover in such times, what about the peasants? It is a long way to go, to put it mildly.

Joachim Buwembo is an editor with the Nation Media
 

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