Written by a Ugandan social justice activist and journalist, known for creative storytelling and passionate advocacy.
owomugishadavie@gmail.com
Uganda’s political history is a tale of resilience, struggle, and a relentless search for democracy. At the heart of this story lies the opposition, the supposed voice of the people seeking change. However, as many Ugandans would agree, the concept of opposition here has taken a rather peculiar turn. Over the years, the ruling National Resistance Movement (NRM) has mastered the art of entrenching itself in power, often at the expense of a fragmented opposition. It’s almost as if the opposition has been reduced to a stage play, with characters sometimes scripted to act as rivals, while behind the curtain, the story remains the same.
The NRM’s secret sauce is no mystery. It has invested heavily in grassroots mobilization, ensuring its presence is felt in every corner of the country. From the smallest village gatherings to national campaigns, the party has positioned itself as the all-seeing eye of Uganda’s political scene. Now, anyone trying to challenge this setup without a strong grassroots strategy might as well be preparing to fight a heavyweight champion without training. The reality is that grassroots support is not just necessary—it is the lifeblood of political survival in Uganda. And here, the NRM has left little breathing room for competitors.
One person who has managed to disrupt the status quo, albeit with difficulty, is Dr. Kizza Besigye. If Uganda’s political arena were a football match, Besigye would be the star striker who keeps getting fouled by the opposing team. For years, he has been a thorn in the side of the NRM, raising the kind of pressure that leaves ruling elites uncomfortable. Besigye has stood firm, exposing the government’s shortcomings, from corruption to mismanagement. His courage has won him admiration, though at a great personal cost. Harassment, imprisonment, and relentless attempts to discredit him have become his daily bread. Yet, his resilience continues to inspire many.
But just when you think Uganda’s opposition is gaining momentum, something peculiar happens. A new face emerges, claiming to champion the people’s cause, and suddenly, everyone is distracted. In 2016, it was Patrick Amama Mbabazi, a man who had once sat at the high table of the NRM. His leap into opposition politics was dramatic, almost like watching a man leave a comfortable mansion to sleep in a tent—only for people to realize later that the tent still had air conditioning. Many questioned whether Mbabazi was truly opposing or simply playing his role in a bigger plan to fragment Besigye’s support.
Fast forward to 2021, and the spotlight shifted to Robert Kyagulanyi, popularly known as Bobi Wine. Charismatic, bold, and relatable to Uganda’s youth, Bobi Wine brought fresh energy to the political scene. His rise was like a catchy new song everyone wanted to dance to. But even as his popularity soared, whispers emerged. Was his sudden prominence part of a grander scheme to divert attention from Besigye’s consistent message? While Bobi Wine undeniably energized a new demographic, some critics believe his campaign played into the NRM’s hands by dividing the opposition further.
If you think about it, this tactic is quite ingenious—if you can’t beat your opponent outright, flood the field with more players and let them confuse each other. It’s almost like a football team planting its own players on the rival team to ensure they never score. For the NRM, disguising personalities in opposition is not just a tactic; it’s an art form perfected over decades.
This raises important questions for Ugandans. How can a country move forward when its opposition appears to be dancing to the same tune as the ruling party? More importantly, how do citizens distinguish genuine leaders from those who are merely props in a well-rehearsed performance? These are not easy questions, but they are necessary ones.
The answer lies in unity and awareness. Uganda’s opposition must learn to prioritize the bigger picture over individual ambitions. Politics is not a sprint; it’s a marathon. And in this marathon, there’s no room for leaders who run only for themselves while leaving their supporters behind. The electorate, too, has a role to play. Ugandans must stop treating elections like drama series where the most entertaining character wins. Instead, they must demand accountability, transparency, and policies that address their needs.
It’s time to stop being impressed by grand speeches and flashy rallies. A good leader is not the one who shouts the loudest but the one who listens the most. Ugandans deserve leaders who genuinely care about their future—not those who are simply playing their part in a script written elsewhere.
At the end of the day, Uganda’s story is still being written. The fight for true democracy is far from over. But with vigilance, unity, and a good sense of humor to survive the political circus, there is hope. After all, as every Ugandan knows, the only thing stronger than our challenges is our spirit. Let’s use it wisely.
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ReplyDeleteThank you Davis. Let us watch the space
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