The headline that Morning: October 9, 1966.

Fifty-nine years ago, a headline in the Uganda Argus read: “Congratulations on Uganda’s 4th Independence Anniversary.” At the time, only a few had access to this newspaper, unlike today, where social media allows everyone to witness the country’s moments, including the 63rd independence celebration.

Despite the passage of decades, some things remain strikingly familiar. Kampala still hums with the chaos of overloaded boda boda riders, people are still detained, the nation will still be addressed by the president, and tomorrow, life will continue as usual, waiting for the next celebration.

For me, the Uganda Argus has been an invaluable resource for exploring Uganda’s cinema culture. Film listings and classified ads, often tucked away on page four, reveal not just what was showing in the cinemas, but also the rhythms of everyday cinema-going—the audiences, the venues, and the vibrant cultural life that surrounded the silver screen at the time.

The Independence Monument, erected in 1962 to commemorate Uganda’s independence, stands as a public marker of the nation’s history. It can be viewed on Page 4’s  monthly city walks, where walkers trace the city’s layered past, from cinema halls to monuments, witnessing spaces where citizens once gathered to celebrate, protest, or simply share a moment together. The monument, like the archival pages of the Uganda Argus, anchors memory in space, connecting past civic rituals to present-day experiences.

Today, as every Ugandan, I celebrate my country. I also celebrate the journalists who meticulously documented daily life, public events, and stories, capturing moments that allow us to glimpse a past we never personally experienced. Through their work, we inherit a living archive of history, memory, and identity, one headline at a time.