I did not get the chance to meet Kaddumukasa Kironde II, in person. For the last two years or so, I have been editing KK (as we fondly referred to him in the Daily Monitor newsroom)’s content and the page where his weekly culinary writings were published.
Through our virtual interactions, KK struck me as an exceptionally organised writer, deeply committed to his work and never one to wait for an editor’s reminder before submitting his copy. If you have worked as an editor, you understand the anxiety of waiting for a story that never arrives on time. Sometimes it comes days or even a week late. That is every editor’s nightmare. An equally frustrating experience is receiving a story that requires extensive rewriting.
Every Tuesday morning, I knew that among the emails in my inbox would be one from KK, containing a meticulously written story accompanied by a photograph. KK was undeniably the finest food connoisseur. He had a remarkable appreciation for good food and sought it out wherever he could find it. Yet he did more than simply enjoy a meal. He narrated his experiences with vivid detail, taking readers on a journey from the moment he entered a restaurant or eatery to the time he left. And he never minced his words. If he had a poor experience at your establishment, he would say so. He would also offer constructive suggestions on how an eatery could improve. He did this faithfully for the Daily Monitor for the last 20 years.
What set KK apart was that he was a well-travelled man who had sampled cuisines from around the world. On some mornings, I would wake up to a review of a dish from Ghana, Morocco, the UK, the US, or countless other countries. As a result, readers enjoyed balanced insights into both local and international cuisines and the methods used to prepare them. He was a walking culinary encyclopedia. His command of food-related terminology was extraordinary, and every time I edited one of his stories, I was almost certain to learn a new word. His knowledge of food and the hospitality industry was unmatched. He had visited many of the country’s top kitchens, attended numerous cooking competitions, and built relationships with some of Uganda’s leading chefs.
I remember a time when he was preparing to go on vacation for a month. He informed me about his trip and shortly afterward, I received a compilation of stories or enough content to run throughout the entire period of his absence. That is what true organisation looks like. Just because one is travelling does not mean the work should stall. We do not come across many people as committed as KK. To imagine that he is gone is deeply heartbreaking. I wish he were still here so I could hug him and tell him how wonderful it was to work with him. I would tell him he was a gifted writer. I would tell him he made my work easier. I would tell him he was one of the finest food connoisseurs Uganda has ever known. Dear KK, your departure came far too soon.