This morning, a call from my colleague Sooma drained the joy and energy I usually greet with the sunrise. “Sad news. Our friend Henry Mulindwa suffered an attack last night and was pronounced dead at Mulago this morning. His wife just called.”
The call lingered, heavy with disbelief. Henry had no plans to die, and I never imagined I’d announce his passing. Breaking the news to those who shared our lives felt surreal.
**A Family at Sunrise**
My journalism career began at Sunrise newspaper in 2006, where we formed a tight-knit family of owners, reporters, editors, and salesmen. Henry joined us in 2007, and I recall the camaraderie that defined our small team.
We effortlessly crossed roles: I learned sales from Felix Kyeyune and editing from Musaazi Nabuti, Odinga Balikuddembe, Ismail Lutaya, and Caesar Abangirah. Musaazi Namiti once shredded one of my news reports to pieces, leaving me so devastated I nearly gave up journalism. Yet, his tough editing taught us precision and resilience. Leone Senyange excelled in distribution before becoming a household name reading sports on NTV. Ramathan Ggoobi, a Manchester United diehard, wrote brilliantly about Arsenal games before rising to Permanent Secretary and Secretary to the Treasury in Uganda’s Ministry of Finance.
**A Bond Forged in News**
I met Henry by chance at an event assigned by our human resources manager, the late Hadija Nakitende, who also shone as a news editor.
A young man, fresh from college, introduced himself as a Sunrise reporter on his first assignment. He boldly raised his hand to ask a question. Initially skeptical, I confirmed he was legit. Back at our National Theatre office, he filed his report, and I edited it. That day, we formed a bond that, despite living separate lives, never broke until his death. Later, Abangirah Caesar linked me to Daily Monitor, where I invited Henry to join as a sub-editor under our boss, Carol Beyanga. I’ll never forget Carol’s frustration when Henry briefly vanished, finding Monitor’s subbing tedious compared to Sunrise’s vibrancy. He hadn’t yet said goodbye to Hadija, who was like a mother to us. After proper farewells, he joined Monitor and remained loyal.
**A Legacy That Endures**
When I was left Monitor unceremoniously, Henry was heartbroken. I proposed starting a media consultancy together, but he declined respectfully, promising support. True to his word, he became a trusted advisor. Henry Mulindwa, I cannot mourn you. What we lived endures. You loved your work, your space, and delivering results. You cherished your mother, your daughter, and now leave another little one. You dreamed of visiting China again and again —Sooma, ensure this trip happens for his family.
Henry battled his illness quietly, guarding his privacy. Whenever I asked, he’d say he was recovering. Just last week, he told me he was back at work at Commercial Plaza, where Monitor’s business desk had moved. We planned lunch at Pan World on Dewington Road. Instead, we meet on Mityana Road, never to see you again.
Henry lived purposefully, achieving many dreams. His legacy lives in his work, his love, and the lives he touched. You’ll be dearly missed.
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