I am struggling to find the words for this one.
For years, King Oyo and I shared something that went beyond official duty; a genuine and enduring love for this country’s mountains, forests and wild places, and a shared belief that Uganda’s tourism story had to be lived by Ugandans, not simply promoted by them.
I remember December 2020 vividly. We were deep in the pandemic, tourism had come to a standstill, yet a small team of us; hikers, a kickboxer and mountaineering enthusiasts, set off on a nine-day climb to Margherita Peak. We were determined to show the world that the Rwenzori still had a story worth telling.
I did not know then that our climb would plant a seed.
Not long afterwards, King Oyo asked a question that changed everything: Could he take on the mountain himself?
Of course he could. And of course, he did.
Watching him summit Margherita Peak in 2022, becoming one of the first reigning monarchs in modern history to achieve such a feat, was one of the proudest moments of my career, and I do not say that lightly.
He did not have to do it. He was a King. But he chose to trudge through grassland, forest, bamboo and glacier, not simply for the photograph at the summit, but because he understood something that many leaders never fully grasp: you cannot ask people to protect what you have never gone and stood in front of yourself.
He planted trees at the foot of the mountain. He spoke about the glaciers disappearing before our eyes. He used his throne, quite literally, as a platform to make climate change and conservation personal to an entire nation.
I was there when he came down from that peak. I remember the embrace, the exhaustion on his face and the light in his eyes.
That is the King Oyo I choose to remember, not only the formal Omukama in ceremonial dress, but the young man who loved his country’s wild places enough to push his body to its limits for them; the young King who understood that sometimes the most powerful way to inspire people is simply to go first.
Uganda has lost a King.
The tourism sector has lost one of its most authentic and fearless champions, someone who never needed convincing about the value of what we have here, only the invitation to go out and experience it for himself.
To the Queen Mother, Best Kemigisa, I extend my deepest condolences. I know how much he leaned on you and how proud you were of him, always. I saw it myself on the day he came down from that mountain. My heart is with you. Queen of Tororo
To the Tooro Kingdom and the people of Tooro, thank you for sharing your King with all of us, and for the grace with which you have carried him and his vision for the many years.
And to Ugandans everywhere: we have lost a young man who made us prouder of our country by reminding us of something we sometimes forget, that our mountains, forests, rivers and wild places are not simply things we possess. They are a heritage we must cherish, protect and pass on.
King Oyo climbed Uganda’s highest mountain. But in doing so, he helped remind an entire country of what stands at our feet.
The Rwenzori will remain.
The trees he planted will grow.
And the glaciers will continue to tell us why his message mattered.
Rest well, Your Majesty.
May the mountains you loved so much keep your story alive.
