The tears came before the words. A father stood outside a hospital room in Kampala, trying to make peace with whatever was coming next.
Inside, doctors were running tests on his baby daughter after sedating her. Inside was uncertainty. Outside was prayer.
‘I told God, whatever results come out, I love my baby girl,’ recalls Joshua Lubwama, the URA midfielder and community psychologist.
The diagnosis
Then the results came. His daughter, who was approaching her first birthday, had been diagnosed with a hearing impairment.
They arrived home with their baby girl, still recovering from the sedation, and a sheet of results.
Lubwama, 28, remembers reading it over and over again. What hit him hardest was the confirmation that his daughter could not hear.
‘I remember shouting at home and saying, ‘God, this is not what I prayed for.”
Four years later, Lubwama can finally tell that story publicly. He shares it now during a conversation on The Game of Life podcast. Until then, it had remained largely within the family.
Not as a victim. Not as a man seeking sympathy. But as a father who has travelled from fear to acceptance, from silence to understanding, and from heartbreak to hope.
The journey to that moment had already been long. Long before he became a midfielder with URA, Lubwama was the small boy nobody thought could play football.
He laughs about it now, recalling how a teacher looked at his slight frame and wondered whether a ball would knock him over. Yet it was that doubt that fuelled him.
‘I started kicking that ball to disprove somebody,’ he recalls. Football took him places.
From Luweero to youth tournaments in Kenya. From Masaza Cup football with Bulemeezi and Gomba to the Uganda Premier League with Bul, Wakiso Giants and eventually URA.
The psychologist
Along the way he acquired another identity. While many footballers dream only of the next contract, Lubwama pursued a degree in Community Psychology.
The inspiration came from his mother, who repeatedly told him he had a gift for listening to people and helping them through problems.
At university he ignored more conventional options and followed what he believed was a calling.
Today, teammates jokingly refer to him as ‘mental health’. The nickname is not entirely misplaced.
Players have approached him with problems they could not share publicly.
One spoke of losing a loved one and reaching a point where life no longer felt worth living.
Another struggled after being denied money he was contractually entitled to.
Lubwama listened. He referred them to professionals. He helped where he could.
The first test
Yet for all the support he offered others, he found himself struggling when life confronted him personally.
The first major test came during his time at Bul. A collision in a friendly match left him with a fractured shinbone. The injury sidelined him for more than a year.
At one point he watched football from the sidelines on crutches, fighting tears as other players enjoyed the game he loved.
‘I would see my tears just dropping off my eyes,’ he says. The emotional pain deepened when he saw his mother cry after he returned home injured.
For a while he wondered whether football had abandoned him. Instead, football gave him another chance. He rebuilt his career at Wakiso Giants and later moved to URA.
The daughter, the news
Life stabilised. He married Gloria Alice Namugga, a nurse he had met through her sister while still in school.
They welcomed a daughter they named Janelle Blessing. Then came the diagnosis.
Like many parents, Lubwama and his wife first noticed small signs.
Their daughter was not responding to sounds. She was not saying the words they expected to hear. Family members urged patience. Children develop differently, they were told.
But the concern remained. A visit to specialists led to more tests and eventually the hospital appointment neither parent will ever forget.
What followed was one of the loneliest periods of Lubwama’s life.
His wife cried. He tried to be strong. He reported for training. He said nothing.
‘I felt it wasn’t the best time for the coach to understand what I was going through,’ he says.
His performances suffered. People noticed his form had dipped. Few knew why. ‘I wasn’t opening up to anybody.’
Many questions, few answers
The irony was impossible to ignore. Here was a community psychologist encouraging others to speak, yet unable to speak himself.
Here was a man advocating for mental wellness while privately carrying one of the heaviest burdens of his life.
He remembers worrying about everything. Would his daughter go to school? Would she achieve her dreams? Would she live a normal life?
Could she become the doctor he had always hoped she would be?
Some people offered encouragement. Others offered doubt.
But Lubwama made a decision. ‘I told myself I’m not leaving my wife. I love her and we love our baby girl.’
It became the foundation upon which everything else was built.
‘First deaf doctor’
The family explored hearing aids. They considered cochlear implants. They sought medical opinions. They learned sign language. Most importantly, they embraced their daughter exactly as she was.
Today, the fear that once consumed him has given way to perspective.
His daughter is four years old. She is cheerful. Loving. Curious.
And her father speaks about her with unmistakable pride. ‘Trust me, she’s a loving girl. She’s a caring girl.’
Then comes the line that captures the transformation of the man sitting across the table.
‘By the grace of God, she’s turning out to be a doctor. If there is no deaf doctor, my baby girl is going to be the first deaf doctor.’
In fact, what should give Lubwama encouragement is that there are already precedents.
Around the world, deaf men and women are practising medicine. In the United States, Dr Philip Zazove became one of the first deaf physicians to be licensed, going on to build a distinguished career in family medicine and medical research.
In Britain, consultant neurologist Dr Helen Grote has also shown that deafness need not be a barrier to a career in medicine.
For Lubwama, this is now less about precedent and more about possibility. Four years after a diagnosis that once left him shattered, he now sees a future filled not with limitations, but opportunities.
His statement is not of a defeated father. It is the statement of a father who has learned that dreams sometimes change shape but never lose value.
Speak up, love more
Perhaps that is why Lubwama’s final message feels earned. He asks athletes to speak up. He asks society to listen. He asks families to support rather than judge.
And he asks parents facing similar circumstances to love their children fully.
‘It’s not a curse,’ he says. ‘Love that child. Learn the language they understand. They need you, and you also need them.’
For years, Lubwama helped others find the courage to talk. Now, finally, he has found the strength to do the same.
JOSHUA LUBWAMA – PROFILE
Professional footballer and midfielder for URA
28 years old
Holds a degree in Community Psychology
Formerly played for Bul and Wakiso Giants
Represented Uganda at the Beach Soccer Africa Cup of Nations
Played Masaza Cup football for Bulemeezi and Gomba
Suffered a career-threatening leg fracture during his time at Bul before returning to top-flight football
Mental health advocate and community speaker
Married to Gloria Alice Namugga, a nurse
Father to Janelle Blessing Lubwama
Passionate about athlete welfare, mental health awareness and life-after-sport preparation