Byanyima revealed that she had received communication from Paul Ssemogerere, the Archbishop of Kampala Archdiocese informing her that President Yoweri Museveni had personally requested that the prayers be halted, citing ongoing investigations.
In a dramatic display of faith and dissent, hundreds of opposition leaders and supporters have today, Monday February 23, 2026 gathered at St. Mary’s Cathedral in Lubaga to pray for detained opposition leader Kizza Besigye, defying government pressure to cancel the event. The unexpected turnout highlights the ongoing tensions between the Ugandan government and its critics, and raises questions about the role of the church in the country’s politics.
The heavy wooden doors of St. Mary’s Cathedral, Lubaga, had barely swung shut after the routine 1:00pm Mass when another congregation began to form.
They arrived quietly at first — in pairs and small clusters — then in steady waves, their footsteps echoing across the stone floor. A special Mass intended to pray for detained opposition figure Kizza Besigye had been officially postponed. But for many of his supporters, postponement did not mean cancellation.
Earlier in the day, church authorities had announced that the 2:00pm mass intended for the jailed Kizza Besigye would not proceed as planned, reportedly following direct engagement from the government. By early afternoon, however, the cathedral was filling once again. The choir loft stood empty. The organ remained silent. Yet the pews steadily filled, row by row.
Among those guiding worshippers into seats were Salam Musumba and Lulume Bayiga, leaders in the People’s Front for Freedom (PFF). Acting as informal ushers, they directed attendees with quiet efficiency.
When the murmur of the crowd swelled, Musumba walked toward the sanctuary and raised her hand for silence. Without microphones or accompaniment, she began the Marian hymn “Ekitibwa kya Maria.” Hundreds of voices joined in. The absence of a choir made little difference; the hymn rose powerfully to the cathedral’s vaulted ceiling.
After the singing, Winnie Byanyima stepped forward to address the congregation. Standing near the altar steps, her voice carried softly across the vast interior as she urged those gathered to remain prayerful and respectful of the sacred space.
“We have come to a holy place to pray for a man in prison and others who are suffering,” she said. “We bring petitions for those detained and those whose whereabouts remain unknown.”
Byanyima revealed that she had received communication from Paul Ssemogerere, the Archbishop of Kampala Archdiocese informing her that President Yoweri Museveni had personally requested that the prayers be halted, citing ongoing investigations. The Archbishop, she said, had agreed to postpone the Mass pending the conclusion of those inquiries.
The disclosure stirred murmurs in the pews. Some bowed their heads; others shook them in disbelief. Reflecting on Uganda’s turbulent political history, Byanyima said she had never witnessed a president intervene to stop citizens from praying. Through wars, coups, and contested elections, she noted, churches had remained sanctuaries of solace.
“Prayer is neither a crime nor an act of insurrection,” she said. “It is an appeal to conscience and faith.”
She asked whether any priest present would lead the congregation in prayer. None stepped forward. Several clergy members, identifiable by their clerical collars, observed silently from the back of the cathedral.
Invoking Catholic teaching on the shared priesthood of the baptized, Byanyima declared that she would lead the prayers herself.
“I am a Catholic. I have received the sacraments. If there is no priest to lead us, I will lead the prayer,” she said.
She offered brief intercessions for prisoners, families of the disappeared, and the nation. There was no homily, no sermon — only concise, deliberate prayers spoken into a still and attentive space.
When the prayers ended, she instructed the congregation to depart peacefully. As worshippers rose and began filing out, another hymn took shape: “We Shall Overcome.” One line rang out above the rest — “One day the Church will be free.”
The singing spilled down the broad steps of Lubaga Hill and into the cathedral compound. Priests stood in small clusters outside, watching silently. Among supporters, one phrase surfaced repeatedly: “Never surrender.”
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Earlier in the day, quiet consultations had unfolded behind closed doors. Byanyima and several PFF leaders were seen meeting officials at the Kampala Archdiocesan offices, including Chancellor Rev. Fr. Pius Male Ssentumbwe. Though the substance of the discussion remained private, both sides emerged appearing composed, exchanging handshakes and nods.
Sources later suggested that after the cancellation of the special 2:00pm Mass, the group had been advised to attend the routine 1:00pm weekday service instead — a gathering that would likely have passed without notice. But the events that followed suggested that for many, the objective was not only prayer, but witness.
Outside the cathedral, the mood was subdued. Some congregants fingered rosaries; others gazed back at the church doors in silence. Opposition leaders briefly gathered on the steps, seemingly preparing to address the media, before announcing they would instead speak from the nearby Pope Paul VI Memorial Hotel.
By late afternoon, the cathedral grounds had thinned. The doors of St. Mary’s Cathedral stood closed once more. But the echoes of unscripted hymns — and the questions they raised about faith, authority, and freedom — lingered in the February air.
