Hon Maj Gen (Rtd) Kahinda Otafiire, Uganda’s Minister of Internal Affairs, has announced his decision to hand over leadership of the Global Pan-African Movement after more than three decades at the helm.
Otafiire, who has served as Chairperson of the Movement since 1994, said the time had come to pass the torch to a new generation of Pan-Africanists committed to advancing the ideals of continental unity.
Speaking at Makerere University during the Nkrumah Day Public Lecture, Otafiire reflected on his long journey within the movement and his unwavering belief in the vision of Kwame Nkrumah. “For 31 years, I have carried the responsibility of chairing the Global Pan-African Movement. But time comes when biology catches up with you. My greatest weapon has been my mouth, but one day it will no longer deliver. I must hand over so that the struggle continues,” he said.
Otafiire, who first assumed the chairmanship during the 1994 Pan-African Congress in Kampala, has been instrumental in reviving the movement during its critical post-Cold War years. Under his leadership, the Global Pan-African Movement mobilised intellectuals, political leaders, and grassroots activists across the continent to pursue Nkrumah’s dream of African unity.
He admitted, however, that the journey has not been easy. “We Africans continue to suffer because we have failed to fulfil our historic obligation—to unite the continent. We are stuck in colonial borders, in tribal divisions, and in religious differences that weaken us. Yet Nkrumah’s dream remains valid: Africa can only liberate itself through unity,” Otafiire emphasised.
Otafiire has been spearheading efforts to convene the 8th Pan-African Congress in Uganda, which he described as the perfect platform for a generational handover. “I want to leave this accumulated knowledge with you, the youth. You must rise and claim your place. My time is running out, but Africa’s future is in your hands,” he told students and young leaders at the event.
Otafiire’s Speech: Lessons from the Life of Kwame Nkrumah
Now, ladies and gentlemen, I don’t like lecturing because I truly believe I don’t have answers to everything. So, I cannot put down something and say this is dogma.
Existence—achieving—is a permanent unity and divorce of contradictions. Every single minute that goes by changes not only the cosmos but also your being. So much so that I am now one hour older than when I came.
So, I can’t claim that I have answers, that I know everything. That’s why, ladies and gentlemen, I want to share my experience—the knowledge I’ve accumulated since I became conscious—to today. Share it with you.
And then, like your theme says: What do we learn from the life of Kwame Nkrumah?
What did Osagyefo (adopted title) live for? What did he live for—other than the independence of Ghana, the defeat of colonialism, and his vision against neocolonialism? What did he live for? What is that iconic dream Nkrumah lived for? It was the unity of the African continent. And that dream—the unity of the African continent—has been my inspiration. It’s been my dream. It’s been my goal. That’s why I’ve ended up being Chairperson of the Global Pan-African Movement from 1994 to date.
I am now trying to organise the 8th Pan-African Congress in Uganda so that I can hand over. Because from 1994 to date—that’s 31 years. That’s a long time.
It’s a tiring time. People will say, “Go on, go on,” but whether I want to or not, my biological past is going to catch up with me. Time will come when my greatest tool of combat—my mouth—will no longer be able to deliver my effective ammunition.
Balkanisation of Africa
So, as I bow out, I would like to leave this accumulated knowledge with you who are here. I told you I came here as a student. I left Makerere with a paper degree—but also a freedom-fighting qualification. From our second year, we became part-time students and full-time guerrillas. We put studying aside and started fighting His Excellency, our Field Marshal, Idi Amin Dada, VC, DSO, MC, CBE…
The Balkanisation of Africa is what gave rise—and continues to give rise—to the likes of Idi Amin. That a country called Uganda at one time lived under a ruler—a gentleman called Idi Amin—and that Makerere gave him a doctorate, an honorary degree in appreciation of his “kindness”. I don’t want to say shame on Makerere because those who did it are no longer here. I knew all of them. God save their souls—if they have any.
This man started butchering Ugandans from day one. From when he took over. And at the height of his killings, Makerere, the oldest university in East Africa, awarded him an honorary PhD for exemplary leadership.
You can see how people shrug. How people lose trust. How people become part-time thinkers. For you to award Amin a PhD for exemplary leadership, what did you expect history to say about you?
Julius Caesar went to Britain and said, “Veni, vidi, vici”. Fortunately, I speak some Latin. It means “I came, I saw, I conquered”.
So me, veni, vidi… and fought. I came, I saw, and I decided to join those struggling to change the course of events in Uganda. And I fought in their name—together with my colleagues. We were young then. I am 74 now—a young man of 74 years.
It’s not because we couldn’t go into exile. It’s because our dictum was: I would rather die on my feet fighting than live on my knees begging.
So, ladies and gentlemen, when you look back—I’m Chairman of the Pan-African Movement—but I am standing on the shoulders of giants: Marcus Garvey, Kwame Nkrumah, Patrice Lumumba… quite many people who started the Pan-African Movement. I am the seventh president. I am carrying the torch. I am bearing the torch of Pan-Africanism.
Why? Because Africa is the product of mankind. And yet we are the most disadvantaged single group of all mankind. We were the ones who suffered slavery, colonialism, imperialism… now we are neocolonial subjects. Just because we have failed to do one thing: unite the continent.
Unity is strength. That was Kwame Nkrumah’s dream.
No to tribalism
When you think you are inheriting the legacy of Kwame Nkrumah, and you still think you are a Ugandan, you are a Munyankore, you are an Acholi—you are living a lie. I’m not a Ugandan. I am an African. My country is Africa, from the East African province, the district of Uganda, the sub-county of Ankole. Ankole may be the architect of my creation, but it is not the trustee of my soul and destiny.
So, young men, when I hear people jumping up and down— Nkobazambogo (derived from a legendary buffalo which had fallen into a pit and could only be pulled out with a rope made out of its skin) —I say, “God, who created me, what is wrong with these people?” Why do they hate themselves? Why?
When we unite as Ugandans and weave a stronger rope—and tie it to the African rope—then we shall be a brighter world. We can only liberate ourselves by uniting our people.
Artificial borders
You hear people say, “I am a Ghanaian, I am a Kenyan, I am a Tanzanian, I am Congolese.” If the eastern border of Congo had been put in Mombasa, what would all of us be? If the northern border of Uganda had been put in Khartoum, there would be no South Sudan, no Darfur—we would all be Ugandans. And you are proud of these borders which bind you, and yet were determined without the input of your forebears?
Students of history—don’t you know these borders were drawn on a map where no African chief or dignitary participated? Here you stand now—in 2025—you still glorify these borders? You people at Makerere University, students of history, philosophy, political science—you still glorify these colonial borders? And use them to describe yourselves?
Like, when you go to Kabale, there is a man with a banana plantation that traverses the border. He has a wife in Rwanda and another wife in Uganda. Now, what are the children? The late Aggrey Awori was a minister in Uganda. Where was his brother? Moody Awori was the Vice President of Kenya. So, were these brothers Ugandan or Kenyan? Borders! And yet we are still stuck—still stuck to our backward, dangerous tribal identities.
What’s the difference between a Munyankore and a Mukiga? When I look at them, I don’t know who is who. They all look the same—bald heads, hungry faces—because they live in a poor continent. Democratically disadvantaged people fighting each other along ethnic and religious lines.
Religious divisions
As if that is not bad enough, one is a Catholic, another a Protestant, and another a Muslim. Ladies and gentlemen, who has ever come from heaven to tell you whether they admit Muslims and reject Catholics in heaven? Or whether they take Protestants and refuse born-again Christians? Or whether they reject all of them? What if you get there and find nobody is admitted?
A friend of mine once said, “Oh, but you man, you have not lived long.” He said, “I have not lived long. I tried to go to hell. They said, ‘We have enough devils—no more!’” Then he said, “I tried to go to heaven. They said, ‘First of all, you have no letter, no visa. Go back.’” Rejected by hell. Rejected by heaven. So now he hangs around here.
And we fight wars because of faith. Faith—not reason. You believe you are going to heaven. What if your belief is wrong? What if you discover it is wrong? Okay, believe. But allow everybody to believe what they believe. You know, people say, “Muslims, they sit on the floor when praying, they knock their heads.” Is the head they are knocking yours? Why are you complaining? Or they don’t sit on chairs—because they don’t want chairs. Have you heard them complain about your chairs? Then Pentecostals shouting in prayer—have you heard God complain they are making too much noise? So why do you make religion a cause of division? A cause of war?
Language question
The fact that one bald man is a Mukiga and another is a Muteso—should that be the cause of fighting? They are all poor. None of them can go to the moon. Ugandans can’t go to the moon. Kenyans can’t go to the moon. Have you heard of a Zimbabwean going to the moon? Or a Congolese? We can’t go to the moon because we are divided. And because we are divided, we are poor.
Congo is very poor. When I was there, I was in the Congo for three years. If you have seen people who are rich, very rich, out of this world, they are in the Congo. But if you have seen people who are poor, very poor, living on caterpillars, they are also in the Congo. One day, I was in the Congo for a meeting. The Congolese didn’t know I could hear what they were saying. I was there with the late (Noble) Mayombo and the late (James Francis Wambogo Wapakhabulo). When Mayombo and Wapakhabulo wanted to return to Kampala, the Congolese said, “No, no, no, no, no! They shouldn’t go. They should stay here. We are still discussing.” I told them, “Let Wapa go, let Mayombo go. I’ll finish everything you want here.” They said, “Ah, Azali Congolais, Azali Ougandais? How does he work for you?” They didn’t know I could speak Lingala better than they did. Azali Congolais means “Is he Congolese?” Azali Ougandais means “Is he Ugandan?”
Language is a means of communication. I learned Lingala in three months. Just three months—I was speaking Lingala fluently. I learned French. I prospered in war.
I am an African. And I want you young people to be Africans. When you identify as a citizen of Africa, I will go to my grave very comfortably. Because then I will know that when I leave this world, I have left behind human beings. Not biological organisms that walk and eat—but human beings who think, who live for a purpose beyond tribe, beyond religion, beyond borders.
Dream of a United Africa
You have to be conscious. You have to put your best at the service of the continent. That is why Kwame Nkrumah was overthrown by the imperialists. The imperialists could not allow Nkrumah to achieve his dream. His dream of African unity. His dream of defeating neocolonialism.
As President of Ghana, he realised independence for his country—but he knew Ghana was too small. He knew Ghana alone was meaningless. He wanted Africa. He wanted one Africa. That is the greatest attribute of Kwame Nkrumah: His dream for the unity of Africa. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is what I live for too.