They entered through Parliament's gates, an eclectic group. Their leader, the Rev. Martin Ssempa, wore sunglasses and long black robes embroidered with matching red crosses and two campaign buttons. One said, "Debate Our Bill Now!" and the other, simply, "No to Sodomy."
To many here, Uganda's gay population does not represent a sexual minority advocating for its rights, but an underground threat promoting a cancerous vice. They accuse gay men and women of recruiting children in secondary schools, and maybe giving them H.I.V.
But with Parliament closing next month, Mr. Ssempa, a leading religious figure from an independent sect of Christianity, made a last-ditch push last week, bringing a coalition of religious leaders, civil society organizers and two self-described former homosexuals to meet directly with the speaker of Parliament, Edward Kiwanuka Ssekandi. They presented him with a petition containing what they said were more than two million signatures in support of the bill.
Mr. Ssempa, reading from the petition, began the meeting by saying he was "distressed" that the bill was being "deliberately killed" by "undemocratic threats" from Western nations, and called the political bullying "homocracy."
A bag was passed around with "Debate Our Bill Now!" and "No to Sodomy," pins, before it came to rest in front of one of the so-called former homosexuals.
"These young people," Mr. Ssempa said, pointing toward the two young men, sitting stiffly across from him in front of the speaker, "will share their experiences having been recruited into homosexuality and coming out. And that is why we are here."
Bishop Julius Oyet, sitting beside Mr. Ssempa, tried unsuccessfully to pin Speaker Ssekandi with the two "Debate Our Bill Now!" and "No to Sodomy" pins before speaking passionately on the "dire need" to "save the nation."
"We are facing a defining moment, Mr. Speaker, in our nation, when we cannot allow one of the top pillars of our culture and civilization to crumble," the bishop said.
"There are more concerns about what happens in Sweden and what the Americans are saying, but the two million Ugandans are here saying 'help us,' " argued Bishop Oyet. "Democracy demands that the people debate the issues of the people."
Mr. Kagaba, 27, went first.
"For me, I was lured into homosexuality by a headmaster of a primary school, who recently died," said Mr. Kagaba, speaking of the recently killed Mr. Kato. "He was our neighbor," Mr. Kagaba said, "and we embraced him."
Mr. Kagaba said that Mr. Kato offered to pay his school fees, and soon Mr. Kagaba, 17 at the time, moved in. One day, Mr. Kagaba claimed, Mr. Kato bought him chicken and two Guinness beers, and raped him that night. The next morning, Mr. Kagaba says, Mr. Kato gave him $130.
Other gay activists have vouched for Mr. Kato's innocence, and Mr. Kagaba himself said he became an outspoken gay activist for six years, until his family held an intervention and he met Mr. Ssempa. Now he says he counsels others at the pastor's One Love clinic in downtown Kampala, where they preach sexual purity and sing a cappella.
Mr. Oundo, 26, a transgender person who used to go by the name Georgina, went next.
"I used to call myself the Queen Mother and Lady of the City," Mr. Oundo said. "I was recruited into homosexuality many years back, when I was 12."
"When I joined Mr. Ssempa, I told him all my problems," he said. "I had to come out and join the struggle.
"Please help us; let the bill pass," he said.
But an hour later, in a quiet hotel, Mr. Oundo recanted much of what had been said at the meeting.
"David Kato was murdered; it was a plot," Mr. Oundo said. "I don't support the bill."
As for being a "former homosexual," that, too, was not true.
"I've always been gay," Mr. Oundo said, in a timid but growing voice. "I didn't choose it."
"David Kato was the first one who taught me to protect my human right," Mr. Oundo added.
Mr. Oundo said that his presence alongside Mr. Ssempa at Parliament had been to "protect" himself and that he had been contacted only that morning by Mr. Kagaba about the meeting and offered about $42 to attend.
He said Mr. Ssempa had offered him about $2,000 in 2009 to repent and switch sides in the debate, but later reneged. Either way, Mr. Oundo became a poster-child for Mr. Ssempa's anti-homosexuality movement.
But he said Uganda's gay population was full of "natural-borns," like himself.
"If I live or die, I am gay, and if I am buried, bury me gay," he said.
Across the table, Mr. Oundo, wearing a T-shirt with an American flag on it, seemed to have misty eyes, the bag of "No to Sodomy" pins spilling onto the table in front of him.