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The Teeth May Smile but the Heart Does Not Forget: Murder and Memory in Uganda
From a new star of American journalism, a riveting murder mystery that reveals the forces roiling today's Africa
From Rwanda to Sierra Leone, African countries recovering from tyranny and war are facing an impossible to overlook past atrocities for the sake of peace or to seek catharsis through tribunals and truth commissions. Uganda chose the path of after Idi Amin's reign was overthrown, the new government opted for amnesty for his henchmen rather than prolonged conflict.
Ugandans tried to bury their history, but reminders of the truth were never far from view. A stray clue to the 1972 disappearance of Eliphaz Laki led his son to a shallow grave―and then to three executioners, among them Amin's chief of staff. Laki's discovery resulted in a trial that gave voice to a nation's as lawyers argued, tribes clashed, and Laki pressed for justice, the trial offered Ugandans a promise of the reckoning they had been so long denied.
For four years, Andrew Rice followed the trial, crossing Uganda to investigate Amin's legacy and the limits of reconciliation. At once a mystery, a historical accounting, and a portrait of modern Africa, The Teeth May Smile But the Heart Does Not Forget is above all an exploration of how -- and whether -- the past can be laid to rest.
One of Kirkus Reviews ' Best Books of 2009
From Rwanda to Sierra Leone, African countries recovering from tyranny and war are facing an impossible to overlook past atrocities for the sake of peace or to seek catharsis through tribunals and truth commissions. Uganda chose the path of after Idi Amin's reign was overthrown, the new government opted for amnesty for his henchmen rather than prolonged conflict.
Ugandans tried to bury their history, but reminders of the truth were never far from view. A stray clue to the 1972 disappearance of Eliphaz Laki led his son to a shallow grave―and then to three executioners, among them Amin's chief of staff. Laki's discovery resulted in a trial that gave voice to a nation's as lawyers argued, tribes clashed, and Laki pressed for justice, the trial offered Ugandans a promise of the reckoning they had been so long denied.
For four years, Andrew Rice followed the trial, crossing Uganda to investigate Amin's legacy and the limits of reconciliation. At once a mystery, a historical accounting, and a portrait of modern Africa, The Teeth May Smile But the Heart Does Not Forget is above all an exploration of how -- and whether -- the past can be laid to rest.
One of Kirkus Reviews ' Best Books of 2009
384 pages, Paperback
First published March 3, 2009
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 62 reviews
September 24, 2009
Nearly flawless account of a cold-blooded political killing in Uganda in the time of Amin, and a view of the shifting perspectives that tend to obscure this kind of history, wherever it happens. Attempts to make the history comprehensible or the killers accountable are the subject of the book, a struggle nearly impossible in regions where blood has been spilled in the name of change, progress, or power. Truth and Reconciliation agencies are not unique to Africa, though, and Rice is able to construct a well-rounded background that reflects both the independence-era Africa against which his drama transpires, and a World that will increasingly need to examine its own motives in this vein.
What some readers will find maddening about the story, others will find most intriguing; stridently-held positions that result in violence seem never to find a neat explanation, a final point on which the jury agrees. In his Rashomon-like array of characters and perspectives, Rice is able to piece together likely renditions, laying the ground for feasible plot-lines, but only given certain articles of faith. Which will be contentious in some quarters, continuing the cycles of doubt and treachery.
The unavoidable outcome, no matter which path is taken in the narrative, is heartbreakingly sad, the pointless waste of humanity in the mindless, brutal industry of violence & cultural upheaval.
Concise, well-documented, clearly the product of long and relentless research, a valuable glimpse into the East Africa of several colliding eras.
What some readers will find maddening about the story, others will find most intriguing; stridently-held positions that result in violence seem never to find a neat explanation, a final point on which the jury agrees. In his Rashomon-like array of characters and perspectives, Rice is able to piece together likely renditions, laying the ground for feasible plot-lines, but only given certain articles of faith. Which will be contentious in some quarters, continuing the cycles of doubt and treachery.
The unavoidable outcome, no matter which path is taken in the narrative, is heartbreakingly sad, the pointless waste of humanity in the mindless, brutal industry of violence & cultural upheaval.
Concise, well-documented, clearly the product of long and relentless research, a valuable glimpse into the East Africa of several colliding eras.
January 18, 2013
This book examines the disappearance (and death) of a son’s father in 1972 at both the micro and macro level. We follow the struggle of the son to probe his father’s disappearance over many years in Uganda, which finally leads up to a trial that to some extent transfixed the country. It forced open many bottled up memories.
We explore this within the Ugandan context where Western values such as justice and human rights are juxtaposed against other pervasive facts like ethnicity, clan, religion, language (tribalism) and the shifting currents of who is in charge (power). The abduction of Eliphaz Laki (the father) is engrossingly examined by the author in this greater Ugandan background. This is done not to justify his abduction and murder, but to illustrate that this sordid event did not happen in isolation; indeed there were many such abductions, disappearances and killings during the reign of Idi Amin.
By reading this book one gains a detailed understanding of the mechanics and lethality of how power is exercised in an African dictatorship. As one group gains ascendancy, it persecutes other less favoured groups and areas of the country. It is a spinning wheel that is in flux – so the individual (like Eliphaz Laki) hardly knows which current to swim in. This is a man who had integrity, for which he paid for with his life. We gain a perspective on how those who commit murder put blinders on themselves – the past becomes distorted through tribal allegiance and power. As the son Duncan Laki states: “When you kill someone, you don’t know how many lives are going to shatter.”
We explore this within the Ugandan context where Western values such as justice and human rights are juxtaposed against other pervasive facts like ethnicity, clan, religion, language (tribalism) and the shifting currents of who is in charge (power). The abduction of Eliphaz Laki (the father) is engrossingly examined by the author in this greater Ugandan background. This is done not to justify his abduction and murder, but to illustrate that this sordid event did not happen in isolation; indeed there were many such abductions, disappearances and killings during the reign of Idi Amin.
By reading this book one gains a detailed understanding of the mechanics and lethality of how power is exercised in an African dictatorship. As one group gains ascendancy, it persecutes other less favoured groups and areas of the country. It is a spinning wheel that is in flux – so the individual (like Eliphaz Laki) hardly knows which current to swim in. This is a man who had integrity, for which he paid for with his life. We gain a perspective on how those who commit murder put blinders on themselves – the past becomes distorted through tribal allegiance and power. As the son Duncan Laki states: “When you kill someone, you don’t know how many lives are going to shatter.”
March 8, 2021
Africa the place is forever obscured by the shadow of Africa the notion. If one historical figure could be said to embody the continent as it is stereotypically imagined—dark, dangerous, atavistic and charged with sexual magnetism—it would be Idi Amin Dada. He is remembered today as a villain straight from a comic book, a monstrous, malaprop-spouting tyrant in a medal-bedecked field marshal’s uniform, an archetypal brute with immense and depraved appetites (Andrew Rice).
A small boy receives some pocket money for school from his charismatic dad one distant morning in 1972. That was the last time the boy saw the father. That boy was Duncan Laki and his father Eliphaz. We witness the fate of Uganda through the events that preceded and followed the murder of Eliphaz. Precolonial and colonial Uganda, postcolonialism, Obote, Idi Amin, Yuseveni. Through the pages of history, the rise and fall of monstruosity, of dictators and military regimes, the death of hundreds of thousands of people. This is not an easy read but the courage of Duncan, his resilience in seeking a voice and agency for his father, refusing to let him be just a number, reminds us what a real man is, dignity and respect despite all the depravation. A small step forward for mankind, even in the midst of continuous corruption and factionalism. Andrew Rice's passion for this nation has generated a book that provides a new standpoint and new reflections on Uganda's past present and future.
A small boy receives some pocket money for school from his charismatic dad one distant morning in 1972. That was the last time the boy saw the father. That boy was Duncan Laki and his father Eliphaz. We witness the fate of Uganda through the events that preceded and followed the murder of Eliphaz. Precolonial and colonial Uganda, postcolonialism, Obote, Idi Amin, Yuseveni. Through the pages of history, the rise and fall of monstruosity, of dictators and military regimes, the death of hundreds of thousands of people. This is not an easy read but the courage of Duncan, his resilience in seeking a voice and agency for his father, refusing to let him be just a number, reminds us what a real man is, dignity and respect despite all the depravation. A small step forward for mankind, even in the midst of continuous corruption and factionalism. Andrew Rice's passion for this nation has generated a book that provides a new standpoint and new reflections on Uganda's past present and future.
August 3, 2009
Is it better to forgive and forget, forgive and remember, or not to forgive at all? Is the cost of justice higher than that of peace? These are among the questions journalist Andrew Rice grapples with in his recently published book on Uganda; “The Teeth May Smile but the Heart Does Not Forget”. The book is a personal story of one man’s journey to uncover the truth behind his father’s disappearance in September 1972. Eliphaz Laki, a member of UPC and a Saza (county) chief of Rwampara County in western Uganda, was among the thousands of Ugandans who died under the rule of President Idi Amin. Like so many of those who perished, Laki disappeared one day, never to be seen again.
Nearly thirty years later, his son, Duncan Laki, refuses to let that piece of his own history remain buried in the shallow graves of those unlucky enough to be caught in the killing fields of the 1970s. Acting a whim one day in 1999, Duncan stumbles upon a clue that will lead him to his father’s executioners, and ultimately, the place where Eliphaz Laki was unceremoniously laid to rest.
After seven years of research from Ankole to West Nile, involving interviews with more than 100 individuals, Rice recounts one man’s fate and in so doing, begins to unearth the ghosts of a dark age that even today continue to cast a long shadow on Ugandan society. The story is not black and white, and the line separating victim and victimizer blurs and shifts depending on with whom you talk, and where in history you begin.
There is Eliphaz Laki, who once drove to Tanzania in his blue Volkswagon with then-rebel now-president Yoweri Museveni (referred to as Erifazi Laki in Museveni’s autobiography, Sowing the Mustard Seed) to visit Milton Obote soon after he was overthrown by Amin. Laki’s association with Museveni and company following the disastrous attempted invasion of Uganda in 1972 sealed his fate. Then there is Anyule Mohammed, a driver and one of Amin’s enforcers who was given Laki’s telltale Volkswagon after escorting him to his death. Another figure in the tragedy is Sergeant Nasur Gille, who pulled the trigger of the gun that took Laki’s life. After controversial admissions of guilt, both men then tried to deflect blame, pointing fingers instead at Amin’s No.2, the chief of staff by the end of the regime, Major General Yusuf Gowon.
There is never one version of history, Rice discovers as he unravels the story of Laki’s death, even in what many would consider the indisputable reign of terror of Idi Amin. He writes, “These twin histories of Amin’s regime – one that said he was devil and one that hailed him as a savior – ran like parallel threads through Uganda’s fragile patchwork peace. If you pulled one frayed strand of truth, you never knew what might unravel…[Ugandans:] could not come to terms with their history because even the most basic facts were still in dispute. Ugandans had simply set aside their arguments, for the time being, because silence was the price of peace.”
How does a society recover from conflict or violent dictatorship? When your family is killed, and the perpetrator is still alive and well among you, how do you cope? How can you forgive? Rice struggles with exactly these questions as he uncovers and unfolds Duncan’s journey to the past, and watches as it catches up to the present day.
Amin’s former men have slipped quietly back into the folds of society, living humble lives and seemingly forgotten by history if not by their victims. But Duncan Laki, much to the dismay of family members who wish to bury the sins of the past, refused to forgive and forget. Instead he forces the men, who now feel victims themselves, into the light to be finally brought to justice.
Rice does a masterful job of weaving together the many strands of history to form as complete a picture as may be possible today. Many outsiders come to the conclusion that there can be no peace, or at least no peace of mind, without justice. What Rice helps to illuminate, however, is that sometimes justice is what you must give up in return for peace.
“We were supposed to believe that it is only by understanding the crimes of the past, and by bringing individuals to account for them – whether through shame or judgment before a court – that a damaged society can regain its sanity,” writes Rice. “The idea that an entire nation might decide to let its murderers go free, that it might suffer so much and commemorate so little, upended everything I thought I knew about the human response to loss.” But inclusion and acceptance of those who have wronged, as he learns, has itself often been what has allowed President Museveni and his National Resistance Movement to remain in power, ideals of justice notwithstanding.
To read Rice’s book is to begin to grasp the harsh realities that face a country with a political history as turbulent as Uganda’s. It provides a more nuanced view of society than that of other pop-culture accounts of Uganda, such as the 2005 film, The Last King of Scotland. And like a good journalist, Rice shares with the reader an impressively balanced account of events and emotions. Rice’s narrative is captivating, although the bounding back and forth between time periods can be slightly disorienting at times. The Teeth May Smile but the Heart Does Not Forget is a book best read in a only few sittings, in order not to lose your place in the midst of the winding storytelling – but this is easy once you open the cover, and most likely you will get to the end wishing you were back at the beginning.
(my review from the Independent magazine, Kampala)
Nearly thirty years later, his son, Duncan Laki, refuses to let that piece of his own history remain buried in the shallow graves of those unlucky enough to be caught in the killing fields of the 1970s. Acting a whim one day in 1999, Duncan stumbles upon a clue that will lead him to his father’s executioners, and ultimately, the place where Eliphaz Laki was unceremoniously laid to rest.
After seven years of research from Ankole to West Nile, involving interviews with more than 100 individuals, Rice recounts one man’s fate and in so doing, begins to unearth the ghosts of a dark age that even today continue to cast a long shadow on Ugandan society. The story is not black and white, and the line separating victim and victimizer blurs and shifts depending on with whom you talk, and where in history you begin.
There is Eliphaz Laki, who once drove to Tanzania in his blue Volkswagon with then-rebel now-president Yoweri Museveni (referred to as Erifazi Laki in Museveni’s autobiography, Sowing the Mustard Seed) to visit Milton Obote soon after he was overthrown by Amin. Laki’s association with Museveni and company following the disastrous attempted invasion of Uganda in 1972 sealed his fate. Then there is Anyule Mohammed, a driver and one of Amin’s enforcers who was given Laki’s telltale Volkswagon after escorting him to his death. Another figure in the tragedy is Sergeant Nasur Gille, who pulled the trigger of the gun that took Laki’s life. After controversial admissions of guilt, both men then tried to deflect blame, pointing fingers instead at Amin’s No.2, the chief of staff by the end of the regime, Major General Yusuf Gowon.
There is never one version of history, Rice discovers as he unravels the story of Laki’s death, even in what many would consider the indisputable reign of terror of Idi Amin. He writes, “These twin histories of Amin’s regime – one that said he was devil and one that hailed him as a savior – ran like parallel threads through Uganda’s fragile patchwork peace. If you pulled one frayed strand of truth, you never knew what might unravel…[Ugandans:] could not come to terms with their history because even the most basic facts were still in dispute. Ugandans had simply set aside their arguments, for the time being, because silence was the price of peace.”
How does a society recover from conflict or violent dictatorship? When your family is killed, and the perpetrator is still alive and well among you, how do you cope? How can you forgive? Rice struggles with exactly these questions as he uncovers and unfolds Duncan’s journey to the past, and watches as it catches up to the present day.
Amin’s former men have slipped quietly back into the folds of society, living humble lives and seemingly forgotten by history if not by their victims. But Duncan Laki, much to the dismay of family members who wish to bury the sins of the past, refused to forgive and forget. Instead he forces the men, who now feel victims themselves, into the light to be finally brought to justice.
Rice does a masterful job of weaving together the many strands of history to form as complete a picture as may be possible today. Many outsiders come to the conclusion that there can be no peace, or at least no peace of mind, without justice. What Rice helps to illuminate, however, is that sometimes justice is what you must give up in return for peace.
“We were supposed to believe that it is only by understanding the crimes of the past, and by bringing individuals to account for them – whether through shame or judgment before a court – that a damaged society can regain its sanity,” writes Rice. “The idea that an entire nation might decide to let its murderers go free, that it might suffer so much and commemorate so little, upended everything I thought I knew about the human response to loss.” But inclusion and acceptance of those who have wronged, as he learns, has itself often been what has allowed President Museveni and his National Resistance Movement to remain in power, ideals of justice notwithstanding.
To read Rice’s book is to begin to grasp the harsh realities that face a country with a political history as turbulent as Uganda’s. It provides a more nuanced view of society than that of other pop-culture accounts of Uganda, such as the 2005 film, The Last King of Scotland. And like a good journalist, Rice shares with the reader an impressively balanced account of events and emotions. Rice’s narrative is captivating, although the bounding back and forth between time periods can be slightly disorienting at times. The Teeth May Smile but the Heart Does Not Forget is a book best read in a only few sittings, in order not to lose your place in the midst of the winding storytelling – but this is easy once you open the cover, and most likely you will get to the end wishing you were back at the beginning.
(my review from the Independent magazine, Kampala)
July 19, 2010
When I was a junior in college, I checked out every single book that the Lee Library held in its collection that discussed Idi Amin. For weeks, I had nightmares about ending up a prisoner in one of his investigation bureaus. At the end of that period, I wrote a thirty page paper analyzing the Tanzanian invasion of Uganda under Walzer's Just War theory. Suffice it to say, that Ugandan history has been an ongoing interest of mine. What I appreciated about this book was twofold. First, it told the turbulent story of Uganda's history and the Amin regime through the lens of a "detective story" and fascinating personal narratives. That made it a book that was simply impossible to put down. The second thing that I appreciated about this book was the frank discussion it had about the issues surrounding the rule of law and notions of justice in trying to deal with the awful crimes perpetrated by heinous regimes. What I got out of this book is that no justice system is really equipped to deal retrospectively with regimes premised upon human rights violations and that the rule of law can be little comfort to those seeking justice after the fact. I have always been a believer in TRC type commissions after the fact, but I am not so sure now that those commissions alone really have the power to reconcile the past. This book will spur many thoughts worth thinking, from my point of view.
March 20, 2022
Trigger warnings: war, death, murder, death of a parent, rape, violence, gun violence, mass slaughter, animal death, Islamophobia.
I'm embarrassed to admit that almost everything I know about Amin's regime in Uganda comes from watch The Last King of Scotland. So when I saw that my library had this, I figured it was the perfect opportunity to change that. I really liked the way that Rice used one story, one death from the regime, the impact on one family, to tell the story of the regime as a whole.
It's a very readable story, and I appreciated the way that Rice jumps between recounting the past and discussing how Uganda has moved forward to the present, as it gave the reader some breathing room between horrific moments. The discussion of the reaction to Amin on the world stage was a fascinating inclusion, and I'm ultimately glad that I read this, even if it was full of atrocities I wish I could unread.
I'm embarrassed to admit that almost everything I know about Amin's regime in Uganda comes from watch The Last King of Scotland. So when I saw that my library had this, I figured it was the perfect opportunity to change that. I really liked the way that Rice used one story, one death from the regime, the impact on one family, to tell the story of the regime as a whole.
It's a very readable story, and I appreciated the way that Rice jumps between recounting the past and discussing how Uganda has moved forward to the present, as it gave the reader some breathing room between horrific moments. The discussion of the reaction to Amin on the world stage was a fascinating inclusion, and I'm ultimately glad that I read this, even if it was full of atrocities I wish I could unread.
November 19, 2018
"Okay... finally figured out what you like..."
That's how the book came my way and I've loved every bit of it. It takes something that was sketchy and vividly brings it to life. I loved how the backgrounds of all the actors are traced - we really are prisoners of our history.
The Idi Amin atrocities aside, what's become of Museveni is tragic and I hope these words don't come true, "Since Amin, 1971, up to now, the governments have all come by the gun and have been removed by the gun."
========
Thank you so much for this Belinda.
That's how the book came my way and I've loved every bit of it. It takes something that was sketchy and vividly brings it to life. I loved how the backgrounds of all the actors are traced - we really are prisoners of our history.
The Idi Amin atrocities aside, what's become of Museveni is tragic and I hope these words don't come true, "Since Amin, 1971, up to now, the governments have all come by the gun and have been removed by the gun."
========
Thank you so much for this Belinda.
March 17, 2018
This is a book that needed a bit of reorganising and a clear focus. It's a mixture of the history of Uganda, a specific murder under Amin and the court case 30 years later, and lastly of the dilemma of what to do with the murderers from Amin's time now that Uganda is trying to move forward. The problem to me in this book was in the flip flopping between the three themes and time periods. I also felt the debate on forgiving, forgetting, justice and what is all means was a bit shallow.
The historical bits were the book's best parts.
The historical bits were the book's best parts.
January 1, 2015
Fascinating book on Uganda. If you want to understand the psyche of 21st century Ugandans — how their history and various cultures shape their current worldview — this is a **GREAT** book to read. The title is a Banyankole proverb that is perfect for this book. It's difficult to classify the book because, while it is primarily Ugandan history since independence, there is a ton of cultural and anthropological information in the book.
Rice talks a lot about the ambiguity of Ugandans in relation to dealing with regime of Idi Amin. From Rice's perspective, they can't decide whether it's better to forget (perhaps it's better to call it denial or repression) the atrocities of the past and to focus on unity and peace or whether it's better to actually deal with the past. The fear, very real in this part of the world, is that dealing with the past and publicly exposing people with powerful political connections is a very dangerous endeavor. There's also the perception that atrocities have been committed by all parties and that exposing the sins of one party is discriminatory and simply revenge.
Rice uses the murder of one saza chief, Eliphaz Laki (a Bairu Munyankole), and his son, Duncan's, pursuit of the truth of his murder as the central thread through his history. He interweaves history, clan conflict, tribal suspicion and conflict, and Ugandan politics and judicial processes together in a way that brings clarity to the mosaic (outsiders might use the term "mess") that is modern Uganda culture (the concepts are more broadly applicable to much, if not all, of Sub-Saharan Africa).
The cultural/anthropological threads focus primarily on the Banyankole (Bahima and Bairu sub-tribes) and the Nubians, but incoporates Lugbara and Baganda information as well. The material is drawn from academic writings, first person interviews, third party interviews, and personal experiences and observations. However, this book does not read like a textbook -- it reads more like a popular history (really, it reads like a novel).
Rice talks a lot about the ambiguity of Ugandans in relation to dealing with regime of Idi Amin. From Rice's perspective, they can't decide whether it's better to forget (perhaps it's better to call it denial or repression) the atrocities of the past and to focus on unity and peace or whether it's better to actually deal with the past. The fear, very real in this part of the world, is that dealing with the past and publicly exposing people with powerful political connections is a very dangerous endeavor. There's also the perception that atrocities have been committed by all parties and that exposing the sins of one party is discriminatory and simply revenge.
Rice uses the murder of one saza chief, Eliphaz Laki (a Bairu Munyankole), and his son, Duncan's, pursuit of the truth of his murder as the central thread through his history. He interweaves history, clan conflict, tribal suspicion and conflict, and Ugandan politics and judicial processes together in a way that brings clarity to the mosaic (outsiders might use the term "mess") that is modern Uganda culture (the concepts are more broadly applicable to much, if not all, of Sub-Saharan Africa).
The cultural/anthropological threads focus primarily on the Banyankole (Bahima and Bairu sub-tribes) and the Nubians, but incoporates Lugbara and Baganda information as well. The material is drawn from academic writings, first person interviews, third party interviews, and personal experiences and observations. However, this book does not read like a textbook -- it reads more like a popular history (really, it reads like a novel).
July 29, 2011
Before I went to Uganda, four years ago, I tried to read every book available on the country. I don't know if I was just a bad researcher - but I found very little material - and much of it was outdated. I wish that this book had been available - I never learned so much about Uganda and its history. I really appreciated being able to read a detailed history of Ugandan politics with an accompanying understanding of each regime's effects on the Ugandan people. All of this was told in the context of a politically motivated murder perpetrated by the infamous Idi Amin and the trial that occurred in the early 2000's. I really, really enjoyed this book - especially for the author's keen discussion on rule of law, justice, truth and reconcilitation, etc. It really shed a whole new light on my four months living there in 2007.
March 29, 2011
I was not able to finish this book. I wanted to be able to finish it, hoping to glean some historical information about a country I know nothing about. But it went too deeply into the political back-and-forths and didn't focus enough on the personal story to keep me reading. So if you like in-depth political information, this book might be one for you. But it wasn't for me.
ETA: I gave it three stars, even though I didn't finish it, because I do think it is well written, an important story to be told and would be enjoyed by others.
ETA: I gave it three stars, even though I didn't finish it, because I do think it is well written, an important story to be told and would be enjoyed by others.
June 16, 2015
A tough read for me, as I tend to gloss over when confronted with so many war facts, figures, names, or battles, but a REALLY interesting and well researched book on a topic and country I knew absolutely nothing about prior to this.
June 15, 2017
Not a history of Amin, as I had hoped, but the story of one man's search - many years later - for the murderers of his father, and of the trial. Rice writes very well. But the story is quite localized, as I said.
June 14, 2017
This review was originally published in the Georgia Straight newspaper.
The story of Duncan Laki’s search for justice is one of Africa. Ethically, his pursuit of the truth is imperfect. Circumstances are rarely black-and-white, and it is not always easy to see a clear path to what is right.
In The Teeth May Smile but the Heart Does Not Forget: Murder and Memory in Uganda, Andrew Rice—an American journalist and veteran reporter on African affairs—tells this story with a gift for narrative and an eye for detail.
By 1972, Eliphaz Laki had most likely left the resistance movement against Idi Amin Dada, the military strongman who had seized the Ugandan presidency in a coup the previous year. Regardless, on September 22, Eliphaz was taken by government soldiers and shot. His death was one of countless such murders in Uganda under the rule of Amin, who had quickly cemented a reputation as one of the world’s most ruthless dictators.
Some 30 years later, Eliphaz’s son, Duncan, tracked down the two soldiers who allegedly pulled the trigger on Eliphaz, and then the general who purportedly ordered the killing. The men were put on trial and Uganda’s attention was fixed on the courts. While Amin lived safely in exile in Saudi Arabia, it looked like somebody might pay for one of his crimes in Uganda.
But should anybody have been prosecuted for alleged crimes committed under orders?
Rice notes that the defendants had all spent time in exile and had only returned to Uganda under promises of amnesty from President Yoweri Museveni. Only later did the men learn that the amnesties were not absolute. “Their lawyers were sure to argue that the trial violated the spirit, if not the letter, of the amnesty,” Rice notes. And so the judicial process was slowly tainted by accusations of victor’s justice and claims of tribalism.
Long after Amin, Uganda remained divided, and the trial tested the country’s capacity to forgive. Did Duncan’s mission serve the people’s wish for reconciliation? These are the questions that Rice fails to sufficiently address.
Furthermore, the international consequences of the Ugandan trial have never been more significant. Argentina continues to wrestle with crimes committed during the country’s “Dirty War” 30 years ago, and it’s looking increasingly likely that Pakistan will pursue judicial proceedings against former president Pervez Musharraf, to list just two examples. Rice barely attempts to place the Ugandan trial in any international context, which would have greatly increased the scope and impact of his work.
On the other hand, the reader is left with an enthralling account of a son’s quest to uncover the truth about his father’s fate and to bring justice to those who killed him.
The story of Duncan Laki’s search for justice is one of Africa. Ethically, his pursuit of the truth is imperfect. Circumstances are rarely black-and-white, and it is not always easy to see a clear path to what is right.
In The Teeth May Smile but the Heart Does Not Forget: Murder and Memory in Uganda, Andrew Rice—an American journalist and veteran reporter on African affairs—tells this story with a gift for narrative and an eye for detail.
By 1972, Eliphaz Laki had most likely left the resistance movement against Idi Amin Dada, the military strongman who had seized the Ugandan presidency in a coup the previous year. Regardless, on September 22, Eliphaz was taken by government soldiers and shot. His death was one of countless such murders in Uganda under the rule of Amin, who had quickly cemented a reputation as one of the world’s most ruthless dictators.
Some 30 years later, Eliphaz’s son, Duncan, tracked down the two soldiers who allegedly pulled the trigger on Eliphaz, and then the general who purportedly ordered the killing. The men were put on trial and Uganda’s attention was fixed on the courts. While Amin lived safely in exile in Saudi Arabia, it looked like somebody might pay for one of his crimes in Uganda.
But should anybody have been prosecuted for alleged crimes committed under orders?
Rice notes that the defendants had all spent time in exile and had only returned to Uganda under promises of amnesty from President Yoweri Museveni. Only later did the men learn that the amnesties were not absolute. “Their lawyers were sure to argue that the trial violated the spirit, if not the letter, of the amnesty,” Rice notes. And so the judicial process was slowly tainted by accusations of victor’s justice and claims of tribalism.
Long after Amin, Uganda remained divided, and the trial tested the country’s capacity to forgive. Did Duncan’s mission serve the people’s wish for reconciliation? These are the questions that Rice fails to sufficiently address.
Furthermore, the international consequences of the Ugandan trial have never been more significant. Argentina continues to wrestle with crimes committed during the country’s “Dirty War” 30 years ago, and it’s looking increasingly likely that Pakistan will pursue judicial proceedings against former president Pervez Musharraf, to list just two examples. Rice barely attempts to place the Ugandan trial in any international context, which would have greatly increased the scope and impact of his work.
On the other hand, the reader is left with an enthralling account of a son’s quest to uncover the truth about his father’s fate and to bring justice to those who killed him.
October 7, 2018
This is a book about the history of post-colonial Uganda, told from the perspective of the son of a local politician who supported Uganda's first president, Milton Obote, helped its current president, Yuweri Museveni, escape to safety, and was disappeared by the president who came in between, Idi Imin.
After Idi Amin deposed Obote, his regime killed hundreds of thousands of Obote loyalists. When Obote returned to power, he killed even more. Museveni decided not to continue this cycle of violence, but in doing so, he left open wounds that Ugandans were expected to forget and move on. Almost everyone did, except Duncan Laki, who wanted to find out how his father disappeared, find his body, and bring his killers to justice.
The author tells the story of Duncan's quest for truth about his father's disappearance, and supplements this story with copious amount of research on Uganda was colonized, the ethnic conflict between the people of the north (West Nile) where Amin and Obote came from, and the south (Ankole) where Laki and Museveni come from, and the atrocities committed by different regimes. He discusses the fault lines in the south itself, between the farmers (Bairu) and the cattle herders (Bahima), as well as post-independence political rivalries. Reading about these divisions, that were kept alive and simmering during the colonial era, it does not seem surprising that Uganda went through almost two decades of murderous convulsions before settling into today's uneasy calm.
Definitely worth reading if you are interested in the history of Uganda and are looking for something that is well researched and easy to read.
After Idi Amin deposed Obote, his regime killed hundreds of thousands of Obote loyalists. When Obote returned to power, he killed even more. Museveni decided not to continue this cycle of violence, but in doing so, he left open wounds that Ugandans were expected to forget and move on. Almost everyone did, except Duncan Laki, who wanted to find out how his father disappeared, find his body, and bring his killers to justice.
The author tells the story of Duncan's quest for truth about his father's disappearance, and supplements this story with copious amount of research on Uganda was colonized, the ethnic conflict between the people of the north (West Nile) where Amin and Obote came from, and the south (Ankole) where Laki and Museveni come from, and the atrocities committed by different regimes. He discusses the fault lines in the south itself, between the farmers (Bairu) and the cattle herders (Bahima), as well as post-independence political rivalries. Reading about these divisions, that were kept alive and simmering during the colonial era, it does not seem surprising that Uganda went through almost two decades of murderous convulsions before settling into today's uneasy calm.
Definitely worth reading if you are interested in the history of Uganda and are looking for something that is well researched and easy to read.
March 8, 2025
This book took me a long time to read because of its multiple themes and time periods, and then the extensively detailed (to the point of tedium) account of the trial of three men accused of a murder. The story of Duncan Laki and his quest to obtain justice for his father was a good story, and one that Rice documented well, with plenty of detail about the lives of both father and son, as well as the rest of the family, and of course the lengthy trial. Rice also provided a long history of Uganda, and its tribal divisions, the bad blood between so many, the wars and coups, the bloody massacres, and individual killings, such as the murder of Eliphaz Laki.
Finally, Rice recounts the dictatorship of Idi Amin, a bizarre if not colorful era in Ugandan history, as well as the period that followed--the efforts at reconciliation, forgetting, moving on. I suspect that journalists like Rice could produce multiple books like this about every nation in Africa, and each would be fascinating and each would contain similarities.
This ambitious book perhaps was too ambitious, or perhaps was two books, though Rice may have turned an otherwise typical history of a turbulent nation into more interesting book by using the story of one family to show how the various eras in Ugandan history affected generations. I am conflicted about reviewing this book, but as a reader, it was a slog.
Finally, Rice recounts the dictatorship of Idi Amin, a bizarre if not colorful era in Ugandan history, as well as the period that followed--the efforts at reconciliation, forgetting, moving on. I suspect that journalists like Rice could produce multiple books like this about every nation in Africa, and each would be fascinating and each would contain similarities.
This ambitious book perhaps was too ambitious, or perhaps was two books, though Rice may have turned an otherwise typical history of a turbulent nation into more interesting book by using the story of one family to show how the various eras in Ugandan history affected generations. I am conflicted about reviewing this book, but as a reader, it was a slog.
December 14, 2019
After having finished “It’s Our Turn To Eat” (about a Kenyan whistleblower) I was looking for a book that told a story about history in the same way, but set to Uganda.
The “same way” meaning: tell a story that covers more 100 years of history, includes the most interesting characters and events of the era, and somehow tie it all to a Forest Gump/Walter Mitty-type main character (who knows everyone and is tied to all the events in some weird way).
Forest Gump in this case is Eliphaz Laki, a local Chief who goes missing in 1972. Decades later, his son Duncan starts looking into his father’s disappearance and unravels a life (and death) intrinsically tied to Uganda’s post-colonial struggles through Obote I, Idi Amin, Obote II and Museveni’s reigns.
Excellent, well researched, interesting and frustrating read.
The “same way” meaning: tell a story that covers more 100 years of history, includes the most interesting characters and events of the era, and somehow tie it all to a Forest Gump/Walter Mitty-type main character (who knows everyone and is tied to all the events in some weird way).
Forest Gump in this case is Eliphaz Laki, a local Chief who goes missing in 1972. Decades later, his son Duncan starts looking into his father’s disappearance and unravels a life (and death) intrinsically tied to Uganda’s post-colonial struggles through Obote I, Idi Amin, Obote II and Museveni’s reigns.
Excellent, well researched, interesting and frustrating read.
May 13, 2023
A story of Idi Amin's tyrannical regime in Uganda in the 1970s, told through the focus of a single murder mystery. Duncan Laki's father disappeared without trace in the early part of that decade, a victim of political struggle; his son's quest for justice and understanding drives the story. American journalist Andrew Rice lived in Uganda for a number of years and so fills the book with impeccable research and background detail. It's a story of bloodshed and hope, of tribal conflict, political meddling and sadism, of acceptance and truth. The story feels a little long-winded at times; the author goes back in time over and over again to retell different aspects of the same story, but this doesn't spoil the overall flow of this engrossing narrative.
February 21, 2021
The Teeth May Smile but the Heart Does Not Forget is not just a fascinating and moving work of journalism and history. In a moment in which longform journalism and narrative nonfiction is increasingly produced to slot into the daily news cycle, it is the rare title that is genuinely timeless. Toggling between tight police procedural and sweeping historical portrait, it is also skillfully crafted to be engaging to readers with little exposure to African history or politics, as well as those with deep knowledge of the continent. As fresh and urgent in 2021 as when first published in 2009, it will be more valuable still in the years ahead, as the dramatic years following decolonization fade from memory but continue to define life for billions in Africa and across the Global South.
May 28, 2023
I gave it 5 stars because even a few pages away from the end, I wasn’t ready for it to be over (unlike a lot of other nonfiction, even the quality material). It was a perfect blend of history (but not too in depth), murder mystery, and character development. It really addressed the themes and reflected a lot on the complex history of such an interesting country. Not to mention, the author met all these historical figures and conducted so many interviews. It was also very well written and not dry! Perfect prequel to my visit to Uganda in 2 weeks. So curious to hear what the people think of Museveni.
December 17, 2024
The title caught my attention, but reading it quickly lost it. The main story of a boy whose father disappeared after a rebellion against a dictator government and how he tracked down the killers and found his remains 30 years later was cool. But that could've been told in half the book. All the Ugandan politics and coups and rebellions just dragged on and on. It was kind of cool when Idi Amin Dada tried to call an end to a war by saying he would box their leader, rather than continuing to let their men kill each other. The fact Amin started the war and was a former heavyweight boxing champion throws it off a bit, but still a cool idea.
May 7, 2024
This book goes through the process of a son investigating the politically motivated killing of his father in 1972 in Uganda. It uses his story as a commentary on the overall political situation in the country and the transition from one military government to another. This book has great themes of justice and what it truly means to get justice/the idea of being the victim of politically motivated action.
June 18, 2017
Great book idea of memory, forgiveness and the past in Uganda. Easy to follow narrative that navigates the different historical periods of modern Uganda against the backdrop of a legal trial. Some of the different names can get a little overwhelming but overall the book paints an excellent picture of the trials and challenges of Uganda's past and the way they impact the present and future.
January 31, 2019
Terrifying and illuminating. A thoroughly researched, well written account that includes both personal stories around one central disappearance and murder during Idi Amin’s regime as well as broader historical, sociocultural, and political discussions. It was a vivid account and an interesting, highly relevant read.
June 9, 2020
Excellent inside account of the workings of modern Africa. One of the best and most informative books on Africa recent history. An investigative thriller and a morality tale. If there were six stars it would get six!
November 24, 2021
Its a great addition to the stories of Uganda's history. A meticulous investigation that saw the author criss crossing the country in search of the truth and justice. We need more of such books written about Uganda.
July 18, 2018
This book ought to be on the Ugandan syllabus. It's a nearly flawless account of Uganda's history repeating itself. Also, interesting being taught about your own culture by a foreigner that did his homework really well.
May 11, 2022
UGANDA
Was such an interesting read of part of Ugandan history. Would like to go visit these areas and see first hand
Was such an interesting read of part of Ugandan history. Would like to go visit these areas and see first hand
July 26, 2022
This is perhaps the best unbiased coverage of Uganda's history that I've come across.
September 6, 2022
Solid! And a quick read. Efficient with the history and thought the structure of the book made a potentially dense story really accessible. Would look forward to reading more from him
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