A ball bouncing on a concrete court in one corner of the world can eventually find its way to the biggest arenas on the planet. A child shooting alone after school can grow into a professional athlete. A player born thousands of miles away can one day find himself wearing the colours of a country connected to his roots.

That is the beauty of basketball. It creates connections that geography alone cannot explain.

When Brandon Davies announced his retirement from professional basketball, he began his farewell with a sentence that revealed the simplicity behind an extraordinary career.

“Just a kid from Provo with a dream to play professional basketball.”

Before the EuroLeague battles, before the NBA opportunity, before the packed arenas across Europe, Davies was simply a young player chasing a dream.

A dream that eventually took him around the world. And, for a memorable chapter, brought him to Uganda.

Davies’ retirement marked the end of a 13-year professional career that saw him compete at the highest level of international basketball. His journey took him through college basketball in the United States, into the NBA, and across some of Europe’s biggest basketball stages.

But every basketball career is made up of chapters. Some chapters are measured by trophies. Others by statistics. Others by the places and people that become part of the journey.

For Uganda basketball, the Brandon Davies chapter may have lasted only six games, six games that offered something far greater than box scores.

They offered a glimpse of the standards, professionalism and competitive mentality required to operate at the highest levels of the sport.

In 2019, Davies arrived in Kampala for the FIBA AfroCan Qualifiers as part of the Uganda Silverbacks squad.

Lugogo Arena has witnessed many important moments in Ugandan basketball history. It has been a place where young players announce themselves, where rivalries are built, and where basketball communities gather to witness something bigger than a game.

During that tournament, Ugandan fans got to see something special.

Davies was not simply a talented player wearing the national team jersey.

He was a professional. The difference was visible.

It was in the way he approached possessions. The way he competed. The way he impacted games beyond scoring.

Uganda’s opening game against Kenya ended in a 70-61 defeat, but Davies showed exactly what kind of player he was. Despite struggling offensively, finishing with 15 points, he controlled the paint with 21 rebounds.

Twenty-one rebounds.

It was the kind of performance that reminded everyone that impact in basketball is not always reflected by scoring numbers.

Against Egypt, one of Africa’s established basketball nations, Uganda fell 73-64, but Davies produced perhaps his most complete performance of the tournament. He finished with 23 points, eight rebounds, four assists, four steals and two blocks.

It was a display of an all-around player. A player who could score. A player who could defend. A player who could influence the game in multiple ways.

Uganda responded with victories against Tanzania and Rwanda. Davies contributed in both games, scoring 11 points with nine rebounds against Tanzania in a 74-54 win, before adding 18 points, nine rebounds, four assists and three steals in Uganda’s 77-71 victory over Rwanda.

Across the four AfroCan Qualifier games, Davies averaged 16.8 points, 11.8 rebounds and four assists.

Two years later, Davies returned to the Silverbacks for the FIBA Basketball World Cup 2023 African Qualifiers. By then, his reputation had grown even further internationally, but his approach remained the same.

Uganda faced Cape Verde in November 2021 and secured a memorable 77-74 victory. Davies delivered one of his best performances in a Silverbacks jersey, finishing with 27 points, 10 rebounds, three assists and three steals.

The following night against Nigeria, Uganda fell 95-69, but Davies again carried a significant offensive responsibility, scoring 22 points and grabbing six rebounds.

Across those two games, he averaged 24.5 points. Against some of Africa’s best competition, Davies showed why he had built a career around consistency and competitiveness.

But perhaps the most meaningful part of Davies’ retirement message was not about basketball statistics.

It was about identity.

He spoke about a mentality he called RAMB0.

“It was the version of me that embraced sacrifice, pushed through pain, silenced doubt, and did whatever it took to compete.”

That mentality explains much of his career.

Professional basketball is often presented through the glamorous moments—the contracts, the championships, the big performances.

But behind every career are sacrifices that fans rarely see.

The airports. The uncertainty. The pressure to constantly prove yourself. The willingness to start again in a new country, a new league, a new environment.

Davies understood that journey.

And for a brief period, Uganda became part of it. Six games may seem like a small contribution when measured against a 13-year professional career. But legacy is not always determined by length. Sometimes it is determined by impact. Brandon Davies did not spend a decade with the Silverbacks. He did not build his entire career in Uganda.

But he left behind something valuable.

A standard.

A reminder.

A picture of what professionalism looks like.

For young Ugandan players watching from the stands at Lugogo Arena, Davies represented proof that basketball could take them places they had never imagined. That the game they played on local courts could connect them to the world. And some of those guys are now high performers in the same arena.

 

As Davies, a former Brooklyn Nets,  Sixers, Žalgiris, Barcelona, Milano, Valencia and Partizan player, and EuroLeague legend closes one chapter and begins another, Uganda remains one of the many places woven into his basketball story.

He wrote:

“While my playing career has come to an end, I truly believe the next chapter is just beginning.”

For basketball, that chapter may continue in coaching, mentorship, leadership or simply sharing the lessons gained from a remarkable journey. But for Uganda, his chapter is already secure because he gave the Silverbacks and their supporters a glimpse of something bigger.

By Cucu Brian

The views expressed herein are only the views of the author. Brian is an ardent Ugandan basketball follower, a basketball junkie and the founder of Basketball256 LLC.

There is something strangely poetic about the number 19.

Not because it is magical. Not because history has ordained it as the age of greatness. But because, time and again, it seems to arrive at the precise moment when responsibility begins to outweigh permission.

On 19 July 2026, the sporting world offered an unlikely lesson.

Across the Atlantic, football belonged to youth. Nineteen-year-old Lamine Yamal walked into a FIFA World Cup final sharing the global spotlight with 39-year-old Lionel Messi—a twenty-year age gap that symbolised football’s eternal relay race. One legend carrying the torch, another already reaching for it.

Yamal was not merely present. He was central to Spain’s triumph, instrumental in the move that produced the decisive goal in extra time. Beside him, another 19-year-old, Pau Cubarsí, walked away as the tournament’s Young Player. Think about that for a moment.

A teenager.

Playing centre-back.

Tasked with containing the finest strikers on the planet under the suffocating pressure of a World Cup tournament.

Football did not ask whether he was old enough.

It asked whether he was good enough.

An hour before the World cup final, nearly 7,000 miles away inside MTN Arena, Ugandan basketball quietly echoed the same message.

Nineteen-year-old Matthew Kisakye produced a game-high 20 points for Sommet BC in a winner-take-all playoff against RezLife Saints. Across the floor stood another teenager, Edrin Ekau, who answered with 17 points to propel RezLife into the club’s first National Basketball League semifinal. We need not to be reminded that Ekau was the NBL regular season leader in points and equally, the leader in points in the post-season thus far.

The box score recorded points.

History may eventually record something else.

Perhaps it recorded a changing of the guard.

Because this is not really about Kisakye or Ekau.

It is about what their performances force us to ask.

Why are we still treating youth as a promise instead of a present reality?

The great basketball coach John Wooden once observed that “Ability may get you to the top, but it takes character to keep you there.”

Notice what he did not say.

He never mentioned age.

Sport has never rewarded birthdays. It rewards readiness.

History agrees.

At 19, Arthur Kaluma was carrying Uganda to the AfroBasket.

Years earlier, Baale Fayed was already starting in an NBL Finals Game Seven for UCU Canons against the all-conquering City Oilers, carrying responsibilities that many veterans never experience.

Outside sport, the pattern becomes almost impossible to ignore.

At 19, Alexander of Macedon—history remembers him as Alexander the Great—was already commanding armies while learning to govern an empire he would soon build.

At 19, Bill Gates was laying the foundations of Microsoft, not because someone decided he was old enough, but because he had convinced the world he was capable enough.

Different centuries.

Different continents.

Different disciplines.

The same question.

What exactly is supposed to happen after 19 that makes someone suddenly ready? Perhaps Ugandan basketball has been asking the wrong question all along. We often ask whether young players are ready for big moments.

Maybe we should be asking whether big moments are ready for young players.

The evidence keeps accumulating.

Jimmy Enabu was once the fearless youngster challenging veterans before becoming the league’s standard bearer. Arthur Kaluma skipped the queue entirely and stepped onto the international stage.

Now Kisakye and Ekau are writing their own chapter.

Every generation eventually produces a group that refuses to wait its turn.

The danger is not that we give young players too much responsibility. The greater danger is that we ask them to wait until their courage has been coached out of them.

There is an old African proverb that says:

“The child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth.”

Ugandan basketball should heed that wisdom.

Young players do not merely need minutes.

They need belief.

They need coaches willing to live with mistakes.

They need clubs prepared to build around potential instead of renting experience.

They need a basketball culture that celebrates boldness as much as it celebrates longevity.

Because if Sunday taught us anything, it is this:

When the biggest games arrived, teenagers did not shrink.

They took the shots.

They guarded the stars.

They carried the expectations.

Maybe the future of Ugandan basketball isn’t waiting in academies or school tournaments. Maybe it has already checked into the starting five.

And perhaps the most provocative question of all is not whether Ugandan basketball is ready to hand the keys to its 19-year-olds.

It is whether those holding the keys are ready to let go.

By Cucu Brian.

The views expressed herein are only the views of the author. Brian is an ardent Ugandan basketball follower, a basketball junkie and the founder of Basketball256 LLC.

There is one image from Luanda circulating around Ugandan basketball circles over the last few days that may define Uganda’s FIBA World Cup Qualifying Window 3 more than any box score ever could. It shows Silverbacks and City Oilers forward Titus Lual guarding Egypt’s giant centre Hamad Abouelrish.

At 2.35 metres, Abouelrish is arguably the tallest player in international basketball today.

Outside meme-lovers caricature of it, It is an image of two athletes playing the same sport and arguably the same position—but in completely different physical realities.

Then there is Fayed Baale.

Standing at 1.73 metres (5’8″), Baale lit up Angola for 17 points and remains one of Uganda’s most electrifying guards. Remarkably, he is also among the shortest players in the current FIBA World Cup Qualifiers.

Those two images—the tallest and one of the shortest players in the competition—capture the question Uganda basketball can no longer avoid:

Does Size Matter?

The scoreboard from Luanda told one story.

The eye test told another.

Watching the Uganda Silverbacks battle Angola, Mali and Egypt during Window 3 of the FIBA Basketball World Cup African Qualifiers, one reality became increasingly difficult to ignore.

Uganda was often giving away size across multiple positions.

Not less talented.

Not less committed.

Simply… undersized.

And in basketball, that matters.

It is an uncomfortable conversation because nobody wants to reduce the game to height. Basketball has evolved beyond the era when simply having the tallest players guaranteed success. Shooting, pace, spacing, skill and decision-making now define the modern game more than ever before.

But size never disappeared.

It simply evolved.

Today’s international basketball demands players who are 6-foot-7 and can defend guards. Centres who can protect the rim and still sprint the floor. Wings with seven-foot wingspans who can switch every screen without creating mismatches.

Against Angola, Uganda spent much of the night battling Bruno Fernando around the basket.

Against Mali, the Silverbacks struggled to match the physicality of a deeper and longer rotation.

Against Egypt, Uganda competed brilliantly for forty minutes before the accumulated physical demands of the game seemed to favour the deeper, bigger team during overtime.

Three different opponents.

One recurring observation.

Uganda was often asking smaller players to perform oversized roles.

That raises a bigger question.

Is Uganda Producing Enough Size?

Uganda has wrestled with this question before.

More than a decade ago the Silverbacks attempted to add size through players like Sam Gombya and Marial Dhal. The experiment never fully matured, while Stanley Ocitti later became arguably Uganda’s most impactful modern power forward, playing a pivotal role in the team’s historic qualification for AfroBasket 2017.

Since then, however, Uganda has largely returned to building around guards.

Perhaps the issue isn’t that Uganda lacks tall people.

Perhaps the issue is that Ugandan basketball isn’t finding them early enough.

How many players taller than 6-foot-7 are currently in structured basketball programs?

How many secondary schools actively recruit exceptionally tall students into basketball rather than letting them drift into other sports—or no organized sport at all?

How many strength and conditioning programs are designed specifically around developing young post players instead of simply producing guards?

These questions matter because international basketball increasingly rewards countries that identify physical tools early and develop skills around them.

Can Uganda Manufacture Size?

No.

Height cannot be coached.

But length can be identified.

Strength can be developed.

Mobility can be trained.

Timing can be taught.

Skill can absolutely be built.

Countries with limited basketball traditions have dramatically improved by creating deliberate pathways for taller athletes. Uganda can do the same if the federation, schools, academies and clubs align behind a long-term vision.

That vision begins with recognizing that frontcourt players require different development. A 6-foot-9 teenager should not necessarily be trained exactly like a 6-foot point guard.

The Future Is Bigger—But Also Smarter

This should not become a search for height alone.

Uganda has always produced skilled guards. Over the decades, I can name but a few, Jimmy Enabu, Tony Drileba, Mark Okidi, Cyrus Kiviiri, Josh Johnson, Kassim Namgwere, to the current crop of guards. That identity should remain.

The next step is balance.

Imagine Uganda’s talented backcourt complemented by two or three homegrown forwards standing 6-foot-8 or taller, comfortable defending, rebounding and finishing above the rim.

That changes everything.

It changes defensive schemes.

It changes rebounding battles.

It changes transition opportunities.

Most importantly, it changes expectations.

My Conclusion

Window 3 exposed many things about the Silverbacks.

Execution can improve.

Turnovers must decrease.

Closing games remains a work in progress.

But perhaps the biggest lesson wasn’t tactical at all.

Window 3 suggested that Uganda’s greatest long-term challenge may not simply be Angola, Egypt or Mali. It may be matching their physical profile.

If Uganda wants to become a consistent contender in African basketball over the next decade, developing bigger, longer and more versatile frontcourt players cannot remain an afterthought.

The conversation shouldn’t be about whether size matters.

At this level, it clearly does.

The conversation should be about what Uganda is prepared to do about it.

By Cucu Brian.

The views expressed herein are only the views of the author. Brian is an ardent Ugandan basketball follower, a basketball junkie and the founder of Basketball256 LLC.

…To understand the sheer thrill Oks got from dominating his adversaries and contemporaries, one would have to understand the source of the nickname that he’d soon take on – The Big Aristotle. The Big Aristotle had been a nickname that Shaquille O’neal had given himself as a reference to the consistent greatness that won him the 2000 MVP award. Just like Shaq, Oks had won his MVP award in the year 2000.

One of Oketcho’s closest friends and teammate Isaac ‘Magalo’ Afidra told me that, “Oks would do everything that Shaquille O’neal did. The mannerism, the celebration after making a basket and the sheer force and dominance.”

Oks and Afidra met in December of 1998 during the Abe Lincoln Tournament. The Abe Lincoln tournament had been a popular basketball showcase in Uganda that collected competing teams in East Africa in both senior and junior categories. Afidra narrates, he had first met Oks that December while playing for the Power Junior team at the tournament. He recalls that he was in his Form Four(U.C.E) vacation while Oketcho was in his Form Six (U.A.C.E) vacation. The junior team did not go past the quarter finals of the tournament but as was the tourney’s norm, teams could upgrade players from the junior team to the senior team and Oketcho was upgraded to the Power seniors team to play the semi finals against Rhinos.

“The Rhinos of then is not the Rhinos of now. That team really had distinguished players.”, Afidra told me. In the semi finals, a young Oketcho faced off with a Rhinos forward, an American Marine called Dr. Jay – Afidra recalls. Oks was way ahead of his time, instantly showing confidence exchanging trash talk with the experienced marine. “Give me the ball, this is light work”, Afidra remembers Oks saying.

Before then, Afidra had only heard about Oketcho from his brother Jesse who played for Power. Jesse had repeatedly spoken of a fearless kid from SMACK who played with the Bugolobi Bingos. In one tournament, while Bugolobi was playing against Makerere University, Oks had driven through their zone defense and dropped an emphatic dunk on their forwards.

 

 

“At that time, Makerere had some of the creme de la creme, players like Humphrey Hakiza. These were gifted players.” – Afidra told me.

In 1999, both Wilbrod Oketcho and Isaac Afidra would team up for Power. As rookies, they would test the heat, and the thrills of competing in the National Basketball league. Being on any roster in that era meant you’d have to face off with the mighty Falcons. Power verses Falcons was an epic rivalry.

“In those years, everything about basketball was Falcons. They were too organized. Falcons’ players were very disciplined, they had a very tactical coach in Ronnie Kaboha and Stephen Omony was literally unstoppable.”, Afidra told me of Falcons.

 

Stephen Omony is a legend and the undisputed G.O.A.T of Ugandan basketball. His Runnings with Wilbrod Oketcho would start while both players were in high school.

“Without a doubt we had an early running. I was at Kitante Hill School and he was at SMACK. I was the leader of my team and he was the leader of his. He had such a big fight in him and you could tell he didn’t want to lose.”, Stephen Omony told me.

The two players (Omony and Oketcho) had a fantastic relationship off the court but on the floor, it was always fierce competition. Omony reaffirms Afidra’s comment about Falcons’ superiority and discipline in the day, “We had things we were doing as a team that were different”.  “Personally, I had a drive and resolve within me that I didn’t see in many other guys but when you compete, you can always see people that have that fire similar to yours .”, Omony says. I had a role to lead my team and so did he, Sometimes that calls for a bit of unfriendly things – Omony continued. Stephen Omony points out Marvin Banks Keronga (also a very close friend to Oks) as the other guy on the Power team that had a burning flame inside him.

Despite going unbeaten in the regular season, Oketcho and Afidra’s Power would lose to Falcons in the Finals of 1999. Afidra believes the result of those finals would have been different hadn’t it been for Oketcho tearing a ligament in the knee and Jesse having to move to the U.S ahead of the finals.

“I could see the frustration in them when they continuously competed and things not going their way. It was so intense some people misinterpreted it as hatred for each other but as far I’m concerned, It was an on-court thing.”, Omony told me about that 1999 finals between Falcons and Power.

Oketcho and Power would get restitution against Falcons with the dawn of a new millennium, the year 2000. Afidra recalls that 2000 wasn’t an easy year especially for Oketcho.
“He had to go through surgery on his knee and it was a very slow return. He joined us half way through the season”, Afidra remembers. I asked Afidra how a half healthy Oketcho could win MVP. He told me that he hadn’t seen such efficiency from a player until then.

“Oks knowing he was only recovering did only the basic stuff, He was a sure bucket in the blocks, he played good defense, locked down his opponents and set up his teammates. MVP just naturally came to him”.

Afidra remembers how hard they trained to win the league in 2000. They had learned from their slip ups from the year before. “We were fitter than any team in the league. We had to make amends.” Afidra recalls two weeks to the semi finals against Rhinos – they had no rims installed at YMCA, all they did was run hills and run on court. “The rims were only installed on a Thursday for a Friday practice. We ended up sweeping Rhinos on Saturday and Sunday in a best of three series.”

Omony acknowledges that the Power they faced in 2000 had changed a whole lot. ‘Oks and Afidra had gotten a whole lot better and Marvin had a fire in him’.

2000 Power Championship Team
Oketcho Wilbrod, Isaac Afidra, Julius ‘Shell’ Wapera, Stephen ‘Sengo’ Sengooba, Charlie, Elliot ‘Baddu’ Bagenda, Shaban Ali, Marvin Banks Keronga, Musa Malamu, Samuel Sebadduka, Martin Kindagaire.

Oks was a fierce competitor. Afidra remembers that ‘he would foul you so hard and turn to his teammates and argue with them about why they’re getting beaten easily’. He had this thing where he would extend his elbows after making a basket, whether you were his teammate or opponent, you didn’t want to be in the way of that, ‘Get out of my way‘, he would said. Oketcho created an aura of intensity starting from practice and pick up games – ‘It was always bloody. Oks and Marvin started the Power Intensity slogan still used to date ‘, Afidra tells.

“Oks never beat about the bush. Whether it was telling the lanky Julius ‘Shell’ Wapera to get stronger by going to the weight room or telling Sengo to quit playing like a girl.”

For his legacy, Afidra will always remember Oketcho as a ‘true sportsman’, a ‘true competitor’, a father, big brother and a friend.

Stephen Omony will always remember Oks as a ‘happy guy who had so much positive energy to throw around.’  “His presence was always contagious and I can attest that he always pushed people around him to do and be better. You could tell that he was a smart and progressive guy who was going going to have a very impact-full life not only on the basketball court. I think he had just began expressing just who he was as a person.”

Rest in Power Wilbrod ‘Oks’ Oketcho.

By Cucu Brian| I respond to tweets, @Cucubrian | Also tag @Basketballug