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“They Hit Me with their Boots, they Squeezed My Testicles….. I Groaned in Pain,”; the Poignant Story of Uganda’s Bobi Wine

Accused of throwing stones at President Museveni’s convoy and charged with treason, Ugandan singer and opposition MP Bobi Winea spent two weeks in jail before being able to seek treatment in the United States.
In a long post published last Monday on his Facebook page , he delivered step by step details on the conditions of his arrest, his detention and in particular the inhuman and degrading treatment inflicted on him.
In a word, Bobi Wine  says he was beaten and tortured.
The artist and detractor of President Museveni spoke about the assassination of his driver, the uprising of the Ugandan special forces in his hotel room, and his arrest manu militari. The pistol pointed at the temple of the artist … blows with an iron bar … on his genitals, the testimony is upsetting.
“They beat me, punched me and kicked me. No part of my body was spared, “he writes. “They wrapped me in a big piece of cloth and stuffed me into a vehicle (…) These guys made me unspeakable things in this vehicle! They took out my cock and crushed my testicles while striking me with objects that I did not see.
In recent appearances, according to RFI, the one who has become the spokesman for Ugandan youth has mostly seemed weakened, sometimes using crutches to move. These accusations of violence and torture have so far been rejected by the Ugandan authorities
Read the entire publication on his Facebook page

What exactly happened to arua? My story !

Ugandan comrades, friends and supporters from all over the world,

I’m sorry, I took a little time to write about the trials and tribulations you were all with me for. It was a difficult day, when I found myself in the physical and mental trauma I endured. I am overwhelmed by your support and words of encouragement. I can not thank you in any other way, except to stick to those values ​​that bind us all together – justice, equality and human dignity.

I will be communicating more in the coming days and, to the extent possible, express my thanks to the various individuals and organizations. In this post, however, I want to tell exactly what happened to me. I am very grateful to my wife Barbie, and to my lawyers who told the world about these events, but I also wanted to tell this sad story personally. I felt more compelled to speak after reading the many publications written by President Museveni and other government officials about what happened.

I read what they said while I was in detention, and I found them absurd to say the least. I was shocked by the way they tried to minimize the atrocities committed by security agencies on innocent citizens. 
So, let me clarify things.

It was August 13th and it was the last day of the campaigns of the municipality of arua. As always, we had a great day of campaign. By the time I left the rally, I was convinced that our candidate, Hon. Kassiano Wadri would win the election. So we left the rally around 5:30 pm and people followed us, singing songs of freedom and chanting “the power of the people – our power. With the Hon. Kassiano and some other leaders, we separated from the multitude, we said goodbye to them and we went to The Royal Hotel where Hon. Wadri stayed.

We watched the news from 7:00 am in the lobby of the hotel when we had tea and took stock of the day’s events. It was of course very exciting to watch the news of that day. The anchor said that we were clearly ahead of the other candidates and that the television was transmitting images of the massive gathering and the procession we had that day. Soon after, I decided to move to The Pacific Hotel where I had to stay to rest after the busy day. That’s when I sat in my tundra vehicle in the co-driver’s seat. The gentleman who drove the tundra that day is one of our drivers (not yasin). He left the vehicle to call the other members of the team who were supposed to drive with us. It took a little time and I moved into my other vehicle (a land cruiser) that was right next to the tundra and whose driver was already sitting in the driver’s seat. We immediately went to The Pacific Hotel while the tundra was behind us. I did not even see what happened after or how yasin ended up on my seat in the tundra. For the sake of clarity, he had driven another vehicle that day.

I started taking the stairs to my room when this driver came to say that Yasin Kawuma had been shot. I could not believe it. I asked him where he was and he told me they were parked outside the hotel. We paced and saw with my own eyes, my friend and comrade Yasin, being let go. I quickly asked one member of the team to take her to the hospital and another to call the police. We did not leave this place when angry soldiers came, beating everyone they could see.

As soon as they saw me, they said “Here it is” in Swahili. So many bullets were fired and everyone left safely. I also ran to the hotel with a crowd of people who had gathered. Inside the hotel, I entered a random room and locked myself in. It was then that my media assistant shared with me the photo of yasin that I tweeted because the world needed to know what was going on.

I could hear people outside and in the corridors of the hotel asking for help. I could also hear the soldiers firing these defenseless people in front of the room where I was, telling them all kinds of blasphemies by beating them without mercy.

I stayed in the room for a long time. At one point, I heard soldiers take a woman out of her room and ask her which room had entered the bobi wine. The woman cried saying that she did not know and what followed was terrible beatings. I could hear her crying and asking for help as she was dragged down the stairs. So far, it’s an experience that haunts me; I could hear a woman crying for help, yet I was so vulnerable and helpless. I could not help it.

I stayed for a few hours, and I heard the soldiers coming every few minutes, knocking doors on my floor or other floors and leaving. At different times, I slept, but I was always awfully awakened by the knocking of doors and the impatient boots that ran throughout the hotel all night long. In the wee hours of the morning, the soldiers began to break the doors of the various hotel rooms. With rage, they broke the doors, and I knew they would soon come to my room. So I put my wallet and my phone in my socks. I also had with me some money that I had won from a previous music show. I also put it in the socks.

A few minutes later, a soldier hit my door with an iron bar and after two or three attempts, the door fell. We looked each other in the eye when he summoned his colleagues in Swahili.Another soldier pointed a gun at my head and ordered me to kneel. I put my hands in the air and just before my knees could reach the ground, the soldier who entered the room used the same iron bar to hit me. He pointed it at my head and I put my hand in defense so that he hit my arm. The second shot came right on my head from the side of my right eye. He hit me with that iron bar and I fell. In a minute, all these guys were on me each looking for the best place to hurt. I do not know how many they were, but it was a hell of a lot.

They beat me, beat me, and hit me with their boots. No part of my body was spared. They touched my eyes, mouth and nose.They touched my elbows and knees. These guys are heartless!

When they took me out of the room, they kept hitting me on all sides. After a while, I could hardly feel the pain. I only heard what they were doing from a distance. My cries and supplications have remained a dead letter. The things they spoke to me all the while, I can not reproduce here. So far, I do not understand how these soldiers that I had probably never met in person could hate me so much.

They wrapped me in a thick piece of cloth and put me in a vehicle. These guys made me unspeakable things in this vehicle! They pulled my manhood and squeezed my testicles by hitting me with objects I did not see. They took off my shoes and took my wallet, the phone and the money I had. As soon as the shoes were gone, they started to hit my ankles with pistol butts.I groaned in pain and they ordered me to stop making noise for them. They used something like tongs to pull my ears. A guy unpacked me and tied the thick fabric around my head. They forced my head under the seat of the car to stop me from screaming. Then they hit my back and continued to hit my genitals with objects. The marks on my back, ankles, elbows, legs and head are still visible. I continued to moan in pain and the last time I heard someone hit me in the back of the head with an object – I’m thinking of an ass or something like that. It was the last time I knew what was going on.

When I became conscious, I was somewhere in a small room with a small window. My legs were tied with my hands with very tight handcuffs. I was bleeding nose and ears. I had a lot of trouble. The fabric they had tied me was soaked in blood. My whole body was swollen. I was shaking uncontrollably.

Two soldiers entered. I can now remember that they were visibly happy to see that I was still alive. They came near me. One of them apologized in tears for what had happened. Bobi, I’m sorry, but we’re not all that. Some of us love you, “he said. He said the doctors were on their way to treat me. I stayed in the same position and after a few hours, about four soldiers came in and lifted me up on a piece of cloth. One of them took a picture of me, (I hope to see this picture someday in my life). As we went out, I read “Arua Aerodrome” somewhere. I was taken into a waiting military helicopter and taken to a place I later discovered was the gulu 4th Division military barracks. It was in this facility that military doctors came in and started giving me injections.

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At that time, I could not even complain because I was not yet fully alert. I was very stunned and had not eaten or drunk anything for hours. My sight was very weak too. I spent the night there. Late at night, I was recovered from this detention center. With my head covered in a dark cloth that felt like a t-shirt, I was taken to the Gulu Police Station where I was forced to sign a written statement from an officer named Francis Olugo in the presence of another officer I learned later. The head of the Gulu cid. I hardly remember what was in this statement! I was then returned to the gulu military barracks, put on a metal bed and handcuffed on it. Very early morning,

The next day, I remember at one point, honey. Medard Segona and Hon. Asuman Basalirwa came to see me. My efforts to get up and talk to them did not do much. By the time they saw me, they could hardly hold tears. I have a faint memory of what they told me, but their visit was very short.

I was then transported to a room where I saw soldiers dressed smartly. I would be lying if I said that I fully appreciated what was happening at that time. I was told later that I’m going to court martial !!!

After a short while, I was transported back to a military helicopter.

When he landed, I was put in a vehicle and driven to another place that I later discovered was the military barracks.

At the, I was now fully alert and I had a drink for the first time after two or three days. I have seen doctors come several times and they gave me all kinds of injections. At one point, I tried to oppose and these guys hold my arms behind me and inject me anywhere. If I asked him what medicine it was, the guy would say something like: “It’s diclofenac, do not you see? At one point, a guy came and wanted to sew up my ear that had an open wound. I begged him not to do it, and he gave in. During all this time, I spent the night and the night with my hands and my handcuffed legs until a few days later. Fortunately, although the scars are still visible, the wound on my ear has healed.

It was after a while that I was able to see my wife and my brother Eddy Yawee, who came with lawyers, friends and dignitaries from the Ugandan Human Rights Commission (Human Rights Commission). the man from Uganda). I will never forget the atmosphere in this room – people started to cry while staring at me. At that time, I could not sit, walk or even be alone. I was still swollen and spoke with great difficulty because of chest pains. My teeth were shaking and the headache was unbearable. I am grateful that the Ugandan Human Rights Commission has made a report that I read later. At least he was captured in part, the state in which they found me. As the government agency charged with combating human rights violations, I look forward to seeing what steps they will take to ensure that no Ugandans are taken into account yet. Not even President Museveni. I can not wish what happened to someone. Not even the soldiers who raped me as if they were animals. I remember two other things about this visit. Despite the pain I had that day, I remember having forced a smile when they told me that I had been charged with illegal possession of firearms. Not even the soldiers who raped me as if they were animals. I remember two other things about this visit. Despite the pain I had that day, I remember having forced a smile when they told me that I had been charged with illegal possession of firearms. Not even the soldiers who raped me as if they were animals. I remember two other things about this visit. Despite the pain I had that day, I remember having forced a smile when they told me that I had been charged with illegal possession of firearms.

I was told that three weapons had been collected and told that they had been found in my room! I could not believe that the state would have tortured such a bad Ugandan and then trapped it with possession of weapons! I did not stop thinking about that for every day that I spent at the hotel. How ruthless are these guys? It was also on that day that I was told about the alleged stoning of the president’s vehicle.

The other thing I remember is that I asked my visitors if we won the arua election. They told me that we had won with a big margin and I thanked God. It strengthened my spirit because I knew that the people were with us, even in the kind of suffering and outrage to which we were subjected.

I was very sad as I am today, that they killed my brother Yasin in cold blood and did not allow me to bury him. They told me about my other comrades who were also incarcerated and continued to pray for them. (Of course every visitor had to talk to me in the presence of military personnel.) Although I was very happy to see all the visitors, when I was released, I read the comments that some of the visitors made to the press (especially government officials). I felt sad that we have many dishonest and cold people who do not care about someone’s tragedy for political capital. I want to believe that we are better than that, dear Ugandans.

Anyway, at the, I was told that I was expected in court on August 23, about nine days after I was taken there. Some military doctors continued to inject me, wash my wounds and give me painkillers. At night, twice, I was put in military vehicles and drove to the Kampala Imaging Center for scans. I could not oppose or ask questions. I’m worried because one of the machines seemed very dangerous. As soon as I was put in and turned on, the doctors ran at a safe distance and started to see me from a small window. This is where the radiologist told me how one of my kidneys and my back were damaged during the assault. However, I did not receive any written medical report from the army.

It was clear that they wanted me to be in better shape the next time I appeared in court and they did everything possible to achieve that. A day or two at the, this guy was frank. He told me that it was in my interest to eat well, take all the medicines and get better towards the 23rd or else they would not have allowed the press to see me and I would be sent back again until I’m pretty presentable! They even shaved my hair and beards. When I hesitated, this soldier told me: “Gwe osaaga” (you’re kidding). Two of them held my hands behind and shaved me by force. At one point, they insisted that I wear a costume for my next court martial appearance and asked me to tell my wife to bring one to me. I also insisted that I do not have it. At another time, I hesitated to leave eye drops for my right eye which was very red and swollen. I always wanted to know what drug I had been given. These guys held my arms from behind and one of them literally poured the whole bottle into my eye! Later, the military doctor also gave me a crutch to help me walk. At that moment, I was able to get up, albeit with difficulty. When you hear all this, you may think that all our soldiers are brutal. Far from it, most of them are wonderful people. There are many with whom I interacted during this event which was extremely professional and friendly. It’s hard to understand how people who serve the same strength, putting the same uniform,

When I was brought back to Gulu on the 23rd, I was very happy to see the people who came to court, including family members, comrades in the fight and lawyers. I can not explain how I felt when the defense lawyer said that the charges of illegal possession of firearms had been dropped. I did not feel revenge. I was not excited. I have not been moved. I can not explain how I felt. I just remembered what these people had done to me and tears came to my eyes. Shortly after, I was arrested again in front of the courtroom and taken to Gulu Prison. At the military prison, I wore a red uniform. This time, I was given a yellow.

My friends, you can not believe that you can be happy to be in prison, but that day I was. I was very happy to leave lonely military isolation and meet colleagues who were detained at gulu prison. That night, I was taken to the lachor hospital in Gulu-other tests and scans were done. At that time, I felt better, especially psychologically since I found my comrades in the fight.

Later that night, the prison authorities decided to take me to the infirmary rather than stay with the other comrades. The other comrades led by Hon. Wadri protested. I could hear them jumping the doors of their cell. The next day I was allowed to stay with them. This is where I interacted with the 32 other colleagues who had been arrested in the arua brawl. To be in the same prison with hon. Gerald Karuhanga, honey. Paul Mwiru, honey. Kassiano Wadri, darling. Mike Mabike, John Mary Sebuufu and many other classmates made it feel like a boarding school. It was not a very happy meeting. Because of the torture, some of our comrades were permanently injured. I can not forget the pain that shaban atiku has gone through. He spent every day and night moaning. The doctors had told him that he would never be because his back had been permanently broken. Unfortunately, the world may never know it, but it will never come out of my mind. He collapses later at a gulu court session. When I later met the women who were brutalized, it was very painful to see them and listen to their stories.

Many times we joked about the possibility of being hanged if the regime decided to give us the maximum penalty for the offense we had been charged with! Many of our comrades have been silent.

Far from these sad moments, the head of the prison had a guitar in the room and together we sang songs of freedom all night long. It was routine every night until we appeared before the Gulu High Court a few days later, for our bail hearing.

My next communication will be a vote of thanks to the world for overwhelming support and fellowship. I will also talk about what I think we need to do together to continue this struggle for freedom and freedom.

I am pleased that the authorities have finally yielded to your pressure and that  Honzaake  has received a link to travel for urgent specialized treatment and I join the world in asking the authorities of  Freeeddymutwe  and other political prisoners. We is.

PS: 
1. Please ignore calls from my phone number (0752013306). It was taken by soldiers and I was told they use it to call my friends claiming it’s me.

2. Please ignore any communication from other social media accounts and pages under my name other than this one (with a blue tick) and my verified twitter account (also with a blue tick).

Sweetheart. Kyagulanyi Sentamu akka bobi wine 
PeoplePower_OurPower

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Written by How Africa

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