Burned alive in the State Research Bureaux?


I haven’t really documented very much about how the search is going, or what I am doing and interested readers of my blog will wonder. Of course I have indicated that I hope, through the internet, human web and the ‘six degrees of separation theory’  someone will come forward with information. I have also indicated that progress is slow in my ‘slow and steady wins the race’  blog.  However I have not been like the hare, I have been the tortoise, plodding away. It is in my nature to be like this, I am a Capricorn, a mountain goat who will keep its feet firmly on the ground whilst steadily and safely climbing to the top, slow and steady, nevertheless reaching in the end. I have a strong background in  research and I am a very systematic and organised person, so using my skills and experience I have found my self applying a logical and systematic approach to the problem.

I decided to get as much documented  information together, then analyse the findings, validate the evidence and hopefully form an exact account . I have always been told by my elders that around the time of my father’s disappearance the British  foreign office came up with 3 separate accounts of my fathers fate and that each one confirmed as being ‘from a very reliable source’. Each of these accounts apparently said about the same thing that happened, but in different places at different times, so obviously were not all reliable.  

My mother said that to know what had happened was worse than not knowing, and it was her wish for me not to be told. Destroyed by her grief my mother contracted bowel cancer and tragically died at the age of 52, in 1989. She died a horrible death, grasping for breath and life, crying ‘more‘, ‘more‘, clearly she did not want to die. My mother adored her two baby grandchildren with whom she sadly had such a short time. After she died we had a memorial service at the crematorium for both her and my father and later scattered her ashes on the beach at Blackpool which was her wish, as she was ‘sand grown’ (born and brought up in Blackpool). She had spent so many happy hours ‘on the sands’ and even I have fond memories of sitting in deck chairs eating fish and chips with bread and butter, grains of sand in my teeth. My Aunty (my father’s oldest sister, to whom he was very close) told me that she knew in her heart, that where ever his remains are (presuming they are in Uganda) they are where he would have liked to be,  he so loved the country. Some time after my mother’s death my brother had a dream in which he saw our parents dancing together, waltzing around and around, reunited and happy in another place.  

It is for my brother in the main part that I carry out this research. He told me some years ago, when I asked him for his consent to go on this journey of discovery, that he would like to know where our fathers remains lie, if indeed they do.  I never liked to ask my brother to tell me what is said to have happened to my father, as I knew it was my mother’s wish for me not to be told. I also know that it is still very painful for him to talk about so aggrieved is he. It is not that I am not pained, it is that my pain is different and this journey will, perhaps, help to exorcise my anguish.

My brother was in an interview on ‘Breakfast Time’ TV years ago. I was watching the broadcast from my friends flat in London. I don’t have very strong memories of the interview. I think I must have been too overwhelmed by the idea of my brother being on the television. I have known for years that  ‘off screen’ or ‘back stage’, after the interview, my brother was told what had really happened. Like I said, my mother believed it would to be too distressing for me to know and so I was not told. I wonder if this is why I am on this quest, because I have never been told what is supposed to have happened, the information available for all these years, reports from the Foreign Office, oral histories etc have never been shared with me, so I still don’t even know what might have happened.

Out of respect for my brother, not wanting to distress him further by asking him to act against our mother’s wishes, I have never asked him directly for information. A few years ago, after I told him I was going to try to find out what happened to our father, he told me what he had been told. My brother said he was told petrol was poured on my father in a room at the state research bureaux and he was set on fire. My brother did not feel that this was the truth.

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