THE HANDS THAT CARRIED A GENERATION

A Tribute to Mrs. Canon Susan Nyote and the Late Mr.David Mwasa Nyote

If you asked me where my life's journey truly began, my answer might surprise you. Not in a hospital. Not at home. It began beneath what I then thought was a porous roof of the newly acquired Nabongo Secondary School truck, driven by the legendary Khaukha, with Masaba later, as his turn boy. That truck carried a dream. It was the season when Mr. and Mrs. David Mwasa Nyote left their respected positions in Mwiri to help establish what would become the legendary Nabongo Secondary School. I was barely two years old, seated securely on Mum's lap as we travelled to Muyembe. I remember roadside stops for roasted meat, waking with a stiff neck after sleeping awkwardly, and a mother's gentle hands making every mile feel safe.

My childhood was shaped by moments both joyful and difficult. I still remember President Yoweri Museveni's first visit to Muyembe after the Bush War. Like every curious child, I sprinted off to watch the soldiers singing, "Muzeeyi, Muzeeyi alisema..." only to hear Mum's unmistakable voice calling me back. There was unfinished porridge, with bananas in it. At the time, it felt like the longest delay in history. Today, I realise that a hungry child rarely lives to tell history.

Then came the Bakimbizi years—the terrifying nights of fleeing cattle rustlers. Dad would drive the cattle southwards while Mum gathered us and quietly led us into the mountains and bushes. We tried our best to suppress our coughs, convinced that even a sneeze could betray our hiding place. One night, at Samazi, I finally lost my patience and protested, "Ngana mafuke..." I was convinced I deserved a better meal and perhaps a public hearing. The family, however, never took my petition seriously. It has since become one of the stories that still provokes laughter whenever those days are remembered. Yet behind the laughter stood a courageous mother who placed herself between her children and danger.

There is an African saying that the shade of a big tree is only appreciated after one has walked in the scorching sun. The older I grow, the more I appreciate the shade under which my parents raised us.

Behind every one of those memories stand two remarkable people: Mr. David Mwasa Nyote (the late) and Mrs. Canon Susan Nyote. 

Mum nurtured us with unwavering faith, prayer and sacrifice. She cultivated my love for music through the treasured Solfa notation hymn book, from which we sang, laughed and prayed, except, of course, when the harmony was interrupted by distant gunfire from cattle rustlers.

Dad shaped my political thinking. Having witnessed different political dispensations, and with members of his family serving in the army and public service, he challenged me to think deeply about leadership, governance and nation-building. To this day, I still treasure an unfinished constitution for a political organisation that he drafted, a reminder that some visions outlive the dreamers who first conceived them.

From the days when joining Primary One required stretching a hand over the head to touch the opposite ear, through student leadership, marriage, parenthood and my own ministry and political journey, their influence has never left me.

As we celebrate 50 Years of God's Goodness in Our Land, Esther and I give thanks to God for two lives so faithfully invested in ours. We are forever grateful for the faith they modelled, the values they instilled, and the hope they inspired.

Mum, thank you for carrying us when we were too young to walk, praying for us when we were too weak to stand, and believing in us even when we doubted ourselves. Dad may have gone ahead of us, but his wisdom continues to guide our steps. Together, you taught us that the greatest inheritance parents can leave their children is not only in wealth , but faith, character and purpose.

We are forever grateful.

Jeph Prince and Esther Wamboka