Let the bricklayer be: In praise of honest work and quiet dignity

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By Albert Gomes-Mugumya

In a country where opportunity is often hoarded and hardship widely shared, it is no small thing to be found immersed in honest labour.

Somewhere in Wakiso, on an ordinary day marked by the dust and heat of Uganda’s countryside, a bricklayer was laying bricks with the quiet determination that defines many of our unsung citizens.

The President, passing through on his Parish Development Model (PDM) tours, noticed this man with his sleeves rolled up and focus unwavering, and stopped to speak with him.

What followed was brief, even unremarkable to the casual observer. The President asked him how much he earned. The bricklayer, without flourish or embellishment, replied with the figures that mark his daily toil. A sum that, while modest, represents sweat, consistency and an admirable will to make something out of very little. The President nodded, smiled, and offered a few encouraging words before resuming his journey.

Then came the usual social-media noise by people who were probably at home sleeping.

A wave of criticism, not directed at the President who holds power to transform lives, but at the bricklayer. People asked why he did not use the chance to ask for a handout. Why he did not beg for a job, a brick-laying machine, or a sack of cement.

The question is: when did we begin to resent humility?

Not every person who meets power must kneel and plead. Perhaps the bricklayer, in that moment, was overwhelmed. Perhaps he was caught off guard, unsure of what to say, or respectful enough not to reduce a passing conversation into a desperate transaction. Or maybe he was standing in the pride of his work, unwilling to present himself as a case for pity.

It is possible that deep within, he regretted not saying more. Like any Ugandan trying to build a life with his bare hands, he too has unmet needs, unspoken hopes, and quiet dreams. But let us not turn his silence into failure. That moment, as brief as it was, revealed something profound: the dignity of labour, the nobility of restraint, and the power of being seen for what you do, not for what you lack.

“Humble yourselves before the Lord, and He will lift you up.” (James 4:10)

This man’s story is not one of missed opportunity. It is one of character.

And to those in leadership, including the President and his aides, let this be a lesson in listening beyond words. When someone of modest means does not ask for help, it does not mean they do not need it. Their silence may be an act of self-respect, not self-sufficiency.

A small gesture, a token of appreciation, a tip, even a follow-up visit will go a long way in affirming that the country values its workers, and not only the questionable SACCOs mushrooming all over the country.

I want to thank our dear President for his benevolence and down-to-earth approach in reaching out to ordinary citizens. His gesture of stopping to engage with the bricklayer speaks volumes about a leadership style that values hard work and dignity in labour.

It shows that even the quiet efforts of hardworking people are recognised and respected, and that leadership can be most powerful when it meets people where they are.  

Let us commend the bricklayer who kept his hands to the soil and his back to the sun, even in the presence of power. He represents the Uganda that wakes early, works late, and seeks no spotlight.

To those quick to mock him for not making a request, perhaps take a moment to reflect. Not every encounter with a leader must be transactional.

Sometimes, quiet dignity speaks louder than any plea. Let him be. Let him inspire.

The writer is a writer/consultant editor