Under the unforgiving glare of the floodlights at the MTN Omondi Stadium, Lugogo on Friday, KCCA FC’s latest unraveling felt painfully familiar to their yellow faithful.
The 3-1 derby defeat to NEC was not merely another blemish on a faltering campaign; it was a vivid snapshot of a team wandering without compass or conviction.
A Richard Basangwa brace, punctuated by Joseph Sseremba’s strike, swept aside the fleeting hope ignited by Ivan Ahimbisibwe’s equaliser and exposed, yet again, a side alarmingly short on structure and substance.
After the final whistle, co-head coach Brian Ssenyondo delivered his now customary sermon. “It is a disappointing result, substandard and not good enough. The players lacked zeal, hunger and attitude,” he lamented.
He insisted they “have to win,” that they must “show character” and “want it more than opponents.” The rhetoric was forceful. The accountability, however, seemed carefully redirected.
Sixteen games into the season, KCCA sit sixth on 30 points, seven adrift of leaders Vipers SC. The early title conversation has not merely quieted; it has become awkward. Yet the messaging from the bench remains stubbornly unchanged: more hunger, more zeal, more character.
There is truth in demanding greater fight from players. But when the same diagnosis follows nearly every setback, it ceases to be analysis and becomes evasion. KCCA do not simply look unmotivated; they look lost.
The passing lanes are unclear. The pressing triggers are inconsistent. The build-up oscillates between hesitant lateral circulation and aimless long balls. The vaunted “free-flowing attacking football” Ssenyondo promised upon arrival has been reduced to sterile possession and hopeful transitions.
One can question attitude, but attitude is often a reflection of clarity. Teams with defined roles, rehearsed patterns and collective belief rarely appear devoid of zeal. KCCA’s recurring malaise feels less like a shortage of effort and more like a shortage of ideas.
Ssenyondo learned well from legendary KCCA tactician Mike Mutebi, at least in front of a microphone. Like Mutebi, he speaks fluently about standards, identity and the badge.
But while Mutebi’s teams were doctrinal in their approach, positional play, bold vertical passing, choreographed movement between the lines, this iteration lacks a discernible blueprint. The aesthetic that once defined KCCA has faded into abstraction.
The coach dismisses questions about rotation, insisting selections are merit-based and that whoever is chosen must “represent the club and himself well and play to win.” Yet frequent changes without an anchoring tactical spine only deepen the confusion.
When combinations are rarely allowed to mature, cohesion becomes elusive. And when cohesion falters, individual performances deteriorate, fueling the very criticism of attitude Ssenyondo so readily supplies.
There is also the broader issue of responsibility. A coaching staff exists to solve problems, not merely narrate them. If the players lack hunger, why does the team start matches flat? If they lack character, why does the structure collapse at the first sign of adversity? These are not solely dressing-room deficiencies; they are managerial challenges.
Ssenyondo insists trophies are not lost in sixteen games. Technically correct. But identities can be. Momentum can be. Belief can be. And right now, KCCA appear to be hemorrhaging all three.
The upcoming fixtures, beginning with BUL at Lugogo, are framed as tests of character. They are also tests of coaching acumen, words will not close a seven-point gap. Passion will not repair positional disarray, promises will not restore a philosophy that seems abandoned in practice.
For a club of KCCA’s pedigree, mediocrity dressed in motivational language is insufficient. The badge demands more than eloquent post-match reflections. It demands tactical clarity, coherence and courage, qualities that, thus far, have been conspicuously absent.
Until the talk gives way to tangible structure on the pitch, Brian Ssenyondo risks being remembered not as the architect of a revival, but as a man who mastered the art of explanation while his team forgot how to play.
