June 3 is Martyr’s Day, a day set aside to remember the 31 Christians who were martyred in 1886 in Namugongo (which is about 20 minutes away from Mukono, if there’s no traffic). This is a national holiday, and there are services in Namugongo at both the Anglican and Catholic shrines.
I didn’t go to Namugongo last year, primarily because I didn’t know about it, and I had an insane amount of work to do. This year, I still have an insane amount of work to do, but I had promised Alison Barfoot last year that I would attend this year. According to her, it’s like the Fourth of July on the Mall; everyone should do it once in their lifetime. Each year, the school takes the school bus (think Greyhound-sized) and pays admission for anyone who can fit on the bus. This year, they announced that priority would be given to international students when registering. Clearly, I had to go.
It was less crowded than I thought it would be; there were only about 3-4,000 people at the Anglican shrine, and actually felt a bit like Wolftrap, with people sitting on a hill across from the church. President Musevini was there, so security was tight; we had to go through a metal detector (in the middle of a field. Seriously.), and I had to return my camera to the bus. I wish I had pictures!
What we saw of the service was very nice; lots of speeches, of course. The Diocese of West Ankole was in charge this year, so the service was in Ankole, Luganda (the major language), and English. Originally, I was sitting with two of my friends along the road that the procession passed. Onesimus, the Archbishop’s chaplain, waved at me. Archbishop Orombi was waving at everyone, but smiled at me. I’m fairly confident he saw me; how could he miss the African flower?! Whether he remembers meeting me at All Saints’ is another matter, but my story is that he smiled and waved at me, and I’m sticking to it. 🙂 We were later directed to a tent (one of my friends is clergy, and I’m a muzungu, a valued guest), which was nice. Fortunately, it was overcast, and therefore not too hot. But the retaining wall we had been sitting on was awfully uncomfortable for the 30 minutes or so we were there, so I was incredibly grateful to be asked to move.
We were there officially for three hours, and left after the president’s speech and before communion. We saw the place where the martyrs were burned alive, the hut in which the executioner pronounced death sentences, and the tree to which the martyrs were tied and tortured. Docents were at each site, telling the story of that particular place. Naturally, there were people selling calendars, posters, hats, water, etc.
What struck me the most, though, was that this holiday is faithfully observed every year. And sincerely. Perhaps I’m becoming cynical in my older age, but do we really do things like this in the US? And with this devotion? I’m going to be thinking on that one for a bit.
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