The final stage of a country’s death is when a clique of individuals, with absolute power, ultimately come to a realisation that they are the law, that they are answerable to none, and that, even with their many shortcomings, no one should hold them to account. 

Without a doubt, Uganda is at that stage. It is dead. It is in shambles. There is nothing good left at this moment, and not even God can salvage that country from perishing. Of course, it should be that way; Ugandans have surrendered the goat to leopards, hoping the hungry leopards can protect it on their behalf. Alas, leopards survive on blood and flesh.

With President Museveni, a forty-year-old tyrant, on the eve of his life, the country that only had ideological but never pragmatic direction has lucidly fallen off its initial political trajectory—one of a progressive and accommodative Uganda—and what we have now is a lawless country, unsafe for whoever chooses to see or speak of the country’s political mess without mincing their words. 

Museveni is 82, or more, and now senile and politically crass—but power, especially in Africa, is sweet, which is why he still has Uganda in his grip and is determined to annihilate anyone who threatens his presidency—and what he does is sit in the passenger seat and let his unreasonable son steer the wheels on his behalf. 

But unlike the father, the son lacks restraint; he is emotionally immature—even at 52—with low self-esteem that he derives comfort and fulfilment from debasing those who neither agree with him nor with his father. And to keep his cup of confidence flowing, he need not stop deranging his victims.

However, Muhoozi, the CDF and Museveni’s son, has a flock of blind sheep, flies, that are willing to follow him to his grave, not because he is fit for leadership, as they claim, but for the privileges that he harbours because of his proximity to power. We can call this cunning silliness. Followers of Muhoozi are either hungry for opportunities or are aware that Museveni is already aged and most likely to die at any time, and so, to protect their loot, they have to support Muhoozi, whom they think might become the next president—it has never been about genuine support. 

Of course, Museveni is most likely to leave behind fragments of a once promising country. Uganda is a patient, fighting for her life in the intensive care unit, only waiting on God to rest her at last. The economy is gone. Now corruption is engraved beneath every Ugandan’s skin. A promising healthcare system is gone. Infrastructure is gone. Education, which his ailing wife heads, is gone. Worst of all, democracy limps on its way to Golgotha for its crucifixion. Summarily, Uganda is a mess. 

But there lies an even more hazardous tragedy than the mess Uganda is in right now, which is the inheritance conundrum—surely Uganda is a family property—Museveni, even with tattling bones and schizophrenia—he does not recognise himself anymore, the patriotic Museveni who presumedly fought for Uganda’s liberation from the pigs—has greedily failed to prepare the country and his family for a peaceful transition, which has forced many unfit people, including his pompous son Muhoozi, to consider taking over the presidency once Museveni steps out. 

Worse is yet to happen while Ugandans sleep. Without any contradiction, Ugandans should not let Muhoozi take over; otherwise, he and his goons will plunge the country into a pogrom for his too much hate for the people who cannot stoop so low as to praise his idiocy. Muhoozi lacks both emotional and intelligence quotients to handle criticism. For him, criticism of his mistakes is treachery. But it is crystal clear that people occupying public offices are subject to public scrutiny, and to be exempted from such scrutiny, one should not accept a public office.

In Uganda, Muhoozi superintends all the abductions and torture of the opposition and critics on behalf of his father. He does this to disseminate fear among Ugandans. Fear, just like guns, is crucial in derailing a people in a tyranny. They should be scared of those in power, and they will never dare to confront them, even when they lead the country to jail, just as Museveni’s regime has. 

In Uganda, democracy has incessantly deteriorated, and as of today, many of Museveni’s critics—writers, academics, politicians, etc. are in exile. The country’s leading opposition president, Robert Kyagulanyi, is in the USA after the January elections; his house was ransacked, his wife stripped naked, and many of his supporters were murdered, abducted, and some were charged with treason. Kizza Besigye, the former leader of the FDC, is in jail on government-engineered charges, and Muhoozi openly boasts about all this. 

More unsettling, the government of Uganda has punched down the right to freedom of assembly. Even when Ugandans grumble, they should not take their frustrations to the streets, not even against a corrupt government official; that alone is tantamount to treason or public nuisance. Only government supporters are permitted to demonstrate.

On 18 September, the PLU group under the leadership of their supreme leader, Muhoozi Kainerugaba, marched to the Embassy of Turkey in Uganda, demanding the repatriation of critic Fred Lumbuye, who now lives in Turkey, having run away from Uganda for the same reason the Museveni critics continue to leave the country. 

Fred Lumbuye is a National Unity Platform supporter and vlogger who, on many occasions, has attacked the Museveni regime and its enablers scathingly, sometimes justifiably, or contradictorily. He is also popular for disseminating wrong information, what many people have often called propaganda. 

The Patriotic League of Uganda, ironically, marched to the Embassy without knowing why they were marching—even though they demanded Lumbuye’s repatriation, claiming he was a threat to the country’s security—they held placards of Muhoozi Kainerugaba and chanted his name. The placards themselves were treasonous: fronting a serving UPDF soldier as a potential candidate for the presidency in 2031. What a foreshadowing: a man who wants to be president has no regard for the law!

However, a day before the imprudent demonstration, Museveni, with the Foreign Affairs Minister in charge of regional cooperation, Haruna Kasolo, had met the Ambassador of Turkey on the sidelines of the Kampala Storage Terminal ground-breaking ceremony. It is evident that the meeting did not yield any results. 

Also, it is no longer a secret that Museveni is politically weary. A man who has always preferred diplomacy to vitriol now watches his son, vulnerably, burn bridges that only dialogue could have strengthened. Alas, the country bears the burden of the broken and burnt bridges, while Muhoozi nourishes his ego as his followers cheer him on. 

Regardless of the demonstration and threats, Turkey has not yet surrendered Lumbuye. What Muhoozi forgets, even though he has nothing to remember, is that Turkey respects the UN Convention Against Torture (UNCAT, Article 3), which strictly prohibits the return of any person to a state where there are substantial grounds to believe they would be subjected to torture. Unfortunately, Uganda has no regard for UNCAT—it wants Lumbuye back so they can torture, dehumanise or murder him for criticising the Museveni regime, just like they have done to other opposition followers and dissidents. 

Uganda is not only aiming at thwarting political dissent at home, but also in the diaspora. But a country cannot prosper when those in power construe opposition as treason; it is through opposition and criticism that leaders see their shortcomings, and it is from the opposition that leaders return to their senses.

And when a critic becomes a subject of national importance, when leaders burn down the whole country to destroy him, then such a leadership bears no future for the people and the country. PLU’s demonstration was uncalled for and unjustifiable, and it reflected a clueless clique of individuals unfit to lead Uganda—no international or local law did they spare. People like these, at last, are destined to bury Uganda, indecently, after forty years of its gradual death under Museveni as its president.