Kisule Glory’s Deadly Assault and Express FC’s Broken Ambulance Leave NEC Star Basangwa Fighting for Life
In Nakivubo Stadium on what should have been an ordinary Uganda Premier League evening, the beautiful game turned ugly—bordering on tragedy.
What began as a fiercely contested clash between hosts Express FC and visitors NEC FC descended into a scene of shocking violence and shocking negligence, one that nearly claimed the life of NEC’s Richard Basangwa and exposed the dangerous corners being cut in the name of “matchday standards.”The moment unfolded in a blur of malice.
Kisule Glory, of Express, did not arrive on the pitch to play football. He came with a clear and deadly intent: to injure. As Basangwa, the bulldozing NEC forward known for his fearless runs and aerial battles, rose to challenge for a routine ball, Kisule met him not with skill or shoulder-to-shoulder grit, but with a vicious elbow delivered straight to the head.
The impact was sickening. Basangwa crumpled instantly, before he even hit the turf. For several terrifying minutes he lay motionless on the turf, his life hanging in the balance while medics rushed in.
It was not a tackle. It was not a foul born of passion. It was an assault, plain and savage, on a player who had simply come to do his job. Yet the horror did not end there. What followed revealed a level of organizational negligence that should send chills through every stakeholder in Ugandan football.
As panic swept the stands and players from both sides stood frozen in disbelief, the ambulance stationed at the stadium—supposedly the first and last line of defense for any life-threatening incident—proved utterly useless. This was no freak breakdown.
Standards had been deliberately lowered for this fixture. Express FC, as the home side responsible for matchday safety, had kept a non-functioning ambulance grounded on site: no medical equipment whatsoever, not even basic oxygen, bandages, or a defibrillator. Worse still, the vehicle itself sat crippled with a flat tire, rendering it immobile even if the bare-bones interior had been stocked.
The General Coordinator, whose duty it is to ensure the pitch remains a safe arena for players and not a potential killing field, had failed to carry out even the most basic inspection. A simple walk-around, a quick check of tires, a glance inside the ambulance bay—none of it was done.
In a league already battling questions about professionalism, this was negligence bordering on criminal recklessness. Lives were gambled with. And on this day, one very nearly ended. Precious minutes ticked away in chaos. Basangwa remained unresponsive on the turf, his breathing shallow, his condition deteriorating.
With the official ambulance paralyzed and empty, NEC officials had no choice but to improvise. One of their own vehicles was hurriedly pressed into service as an emergency ambulance, its back seats cleared to ferry the stricken player out of the stadium.
The delay was inexcusable. Every second counted, and those seconds were stolen by a system that had chosen cost-cutting and complacency over human life. Richard Basangwa was eventually rushed to hospital. He remains in critical condition, fighting for his life as doctors battle to stabilize him and reverse the damage inflicted by that brutal, intentional strike.
The fear is real: without the swift thinking of NEC’s staff and the desperate use of their own vehicle, the outcome could have been far darker. A young man’s footballing dreams—and quite possibly his very existence—hung by a thread because those entrusted with safety simply did not care enough to check.
This was not an unfortunate accident. It was a perfect storm of on-pitch thuggery and off-pitch incompetence. Kisule Glory’s assault exposed the dark underbelly of unchecked aggression; Express FC’s derelict ambulance and the General Coordinator’s failure to inspect it exposed something even more damning: a willingness to treat player safety as optional.
As Basangwa lies in his hospital bed receiving urgent medication, the football community must ask itself one question: how many more players must come within inches of death before those in charge decide that standards are not negotiable?
The ugly Richard Basangwa incident at Nakivubo will not be forgotten. It must not be. Lives—literal lives—depend on it.