Becoming a Good Ancestor As I reflect on life today and the stories of those I admire, I am reminded of the kind of ancestor I hope to become. My grandfather, Rumunyiire, is remembered as a great man, a great ancestor. Though he passed away in the 1970s, the tales of his strength and courage continue to live on.
He was a man of the hills, vast, endless landscapes where he thrived alongside the lions that roamed them. While many feared these wild lands, he embraced them without hesitation. It was on these very hills that he built his home, crafting mud houses and cultivating the land. Yet, he did not seek to tame nature entirely. He left the drinking places and salt licks untouched, allowing the animals to partake in the rhythms of the wild, harmonizing with the landscape he so deeply respected.
To this day, when I walk those lands, I still see the mineral licks, marked by signs that animals continue to use them. He forbade us from ever tampering with them, ensuring that his legacy of coexistence with nature endured long after he was gone.
Conversations with the elders reveal that my grandfather was not only a strong and courageous man but also a kind and honest one. He was known for his generosity, often sharing food from his plantation with the village during times of hunger.
After each harvest, when he returned to the village, he would host grand gatherings, celebrations filled with laughter, food, and a deep sense of community. He ensured that no one left empty-handed. His presence brought warmth and abundance, and people eagerly anticipated his visits, knowing they would be filled with joy and the promise of another unforgettable celebration.
Beyond his generosity, he was a man of principle and justice. Whenever someone in the village committed an immoral act, he was among the first to speak out. He would forbid such behavior, discourage those involved, and ensure that corrective measures were taken within the community. He upheld the values of those around him, not out of self-righteousness, but because he believed in the importance of a strong, moral society.
However, despite the many stories that paint him as a saint, I do not believe he was one. I have walked this earth for 27 years, encountering countless people, yet I have never met anyone who truly fits the description of sainthood. By that logic, my grandfather couldn’t have been one either.
What I do believe is that he was a good man, one who did a great deal of good for his children and his community. His kindness, courage, and generosity left behind stories that have endured through generations, so much so that they have overshadowed any faults he may have had. And perhaps that is the true measure of a life well lived, not the absence of flaws, but the presence of an undeniable and lasting impact.
What Does It Mean to Be a Good Ancestor? When I am asked this question, my answer is simple:
To be a good ancestor is to do a great deal of good, not just for your immediate generation, but for the generations that follow. True greatness is measured by the lasting impact of one’s actions, shaping a future where others can thrive. The highest form of good is one that prevents existential catastrophe, ensuring that those who come after us inherit a better world.
History offers many examples of such ancestors, figures like Nelson Mandela, who fought for the rights and dignity of South Africans, leaving behind a legacy that continues to inspire.
In my time, there are individuals whom we believe have the potential to become great ancestors, people like Bobi Wine, Kizza Besigye, and Justice Kisakye. However, history will be their ultimate judge. Time will test their actions, challenge their legacies, and determine whether their impact endures.
If future generations continue to feel the weight of their influence, if their work continues to shape lives long after they are gone, then they will have truly become good ancestors.
And that, above all else, is the legacy I, too, hope to leave behind.
Becoming a Good Ancestor
As I reflect on life today and the stories of those I admire, I am reminded of the kind of ancestor I hope to become. My grandfather, Rumunyiire, is remembered as a great man, a great ancestor. Though he passed away in the 1970s, the tales of his strength and courage continue to live on.
He was a man of the hills, vast, endless landscapes where he thrived alongside the lions that roamed them. While many feared these wild lands, he embraced them without hesitation. It was on these very hills that he built his home, crafting mud houses and cultivating the land. Yet, he did not seek to tame nature entirely. He left the drinking places and salt licks untouched, allowing the animals to partake in the rhythms of the wild, harmonizing with the landscape he so deeply respected.
To this day, when I walk those lands, I still see the mineral licks, marked by signs that animals continue to use them. He forbade us from ever tampering with them, ensuring that his legacy of coexistence with nature endured long after he was gone.
Conversations with the elders reveal that my grandfather was not only a strong and courageous man but also a kind and honest one. He was known for his generosity, often sharing food from his plantation with the village during times of hunger.
After each harvest, when he returned to the village, he would host grand gatherings, celebrations filled with laughter, food, and a deep sense of community. He ensured that no one left empty-handed. His presence brought warmth and abundance, and people eagerly anticipated his visits, knowing they would be filled with joy and the promise of another unforgettable celebration.
Beyond his generosity, he was a man of principle and justice. Whenever someone in the village committed an immoral act, he was among the first to speak out. He would forbid such behavior, discourage those involved, and ensure that corrective measures were taken within the community. He upheld the values of those around him, not out of self-righteousness, but because he believed in the importance of a strong, moral society.
However, despite the many stories that paint him as a saint, I do not believe he was one. I have walked this earth for 27 years, encountering countless people, yet I have never met anyone who truly fits the description of sainthood. By that logic, my grandfather couldn’t have been one either.
What I do believe is that he was a good man, one who did a great deal of good for his children and his community. His kindness, courage, and generosity left behind stories that have endured through generations, so much so that they have overshadowed any faults he may have had. And perhaps that is the true measure of a life well lived, not the absence of flaws, but the presence of an undeniable and lasting impact.
What Does It Mean to Be a Good Ancestor?
When I am asked this question, my answer is simple:
To be a good ancestor is to do a great deal of good, not just for your immediate generation, but for the generations that follow. True greatness is measured by the lasting impact of one’s actions, shaping a future where others can thrive. The highest form of good is one that prevents existential catastrophe, ensuring that those who come after us inherit a better world.
History offers many examples of such ancestors, figures like Nelson Mandela, who fought for the rights and dignity of South Africans, leaving behind a legacy that continues to inspire.
In my time, there are individuals whom we believe have the potential to become great ancestors, people like Bobi Wine, Kizza Besigye, and Justice Kisakye. However, history will be their ultimate judge. Time will test their actions, challenge their legacies, and determine whether their impact endures.
If future generations continue to feel the weight of their influence, if their work continues to shape lives long after they are gone, then they will have truly become good ancestors.
And that, above all else, is the legacy I, too, hope to leave behind.