Every last week in Ugandan sport, I choose not to weigh the previous 12 months not by its glory, but by the empty seats we leave behind.
The year 2025 was a devastating year for our sports community, which saw an unusually cruel number of its beloved figures pass away. For starters, all names mentioned in this article departed from us this year.
To simply list their names feels like an administrative task while to reflect on their collective legacy is to confront the profound and varied ways a single life can shape a nation’s sporting soul. For the many who passed on, they were not just athletes or administrators, they were strings that joined together the fabric of Uganda’s passion.
For instance, consider the stark, sudden finality of rally ace Rajiv Ruparelia’s tragic accident when he rammed into road barriers at the Busabala flyover. He was a promising rally driver and his passing was a brutal reminder of the thin line between fearless ambition on the rally stage and fragile mortality on a quiet road.
It felt emblematic of a year that took from us with shocking swiftness, from the promising young rugby talent Ronnie Kayondo on the pitch to the untimely mystery surrounding Vipers FC’s Abubaker Lawal.
These weren’t the quiet exits of old age; they left many questions and remain intriguing stops that left narratives painfully unfinished. Yet, 2025 also demanded we honor those who built the very stages upon which today’s stars perform.
We lost living archives like former Cranes stars Edrisa Nyombi and Obadiah Patrick Semakula, stars whose feet authored the folklore of the 1960s and 80s. Their style, their nicknames, their crucial goals, were the foundational myths whispered to generations to come.
So, losing them was a direct, irreplaceable connection to the authentic roots of Ugandan football. Similarly, the departure of a lawn tennis pillar like Cedric Babu Ndilima represents more than the loss of legendary player and administrator.
He was a bridge-builder who advanced local tennis from the court to the boardroom, understanding that sport needs visionaries off the field as much as heroes on it. His era was the last to participate in the prestigious David Cup proper.
What strikes me most, however, is the incredible diversity of their contributions. This was not a year that targeted one sport. More importantly, 2025 demises swept across the entire arena of human endeavor: from the raw physical poetry of Charles Kasasa’s body-building to the strategic mind of a referee commissioner like Edirisa Kiwanuka; from the disciplined artistry of boxer John Munduga to the fiery, unconditional passion of a super football fan such as Haruna ‘Ka Scooter’ Mawanda.
All these losses carved out a unique and specific void. For the football fans that followed Ugandan football in the 1980s and 1990s, Mawanda’s roar was as much a part of the game’s soundtrack as the referee’s whistle, and his absence from the stands is its own kind of silence.
To me, ultimately, the story of 2025 is one of collective inheritance. We are left with the trophies they lifted, the records they set, the tournaments they built, and the fans they inspired.
But we are also left with the quieter lessons: of Munduga’s international perseverance, of the clinical finishing of 19956 top-flight league top-scorer Ibrahim Kizito, of the legendary Yusuf Ssonko’s defensive fortitude exported abroad.
Their lives argue that a sporting legacy is multifaceted; so, it exists in medals, in institutions, in memories and in the simple, enduring love of the game. So, as we turn the page to 2026, the challenge is clear.
We must do more than remember their names. We must actively safeguard the ecosystems they helped create, support the sports bodies, honour the veterans such as the ailing Issa Sekatawa and nurture the young talents who now carry the torch.
The greatest tribute we currently face is not a moment of silence, but a renewed commitment to honouring our stars and legends. Their final may be blown, but the echo of their contribution forever shapes the sport.