The Independent Uganda: You get the Truth we Pay the Price
COMMENT | Olivia Nalubwama | Dear reader, the presidential convoy is a most curious perk — whether understated or unrestrained.
In Uganda, it is a fast and furious display of grandeur. Through the presidential convoy, one can track the metamorphosis of President Yoweri Museveni’s regime. The convoy could tell the story of Uganda’s bumpy quest to break free of its accursed politics.
In the beginning, in the sun-kissed year of 1986 when Museveni ascended to the presidency, the euphoria of the revolution seemed unending. Veteran journalist and columnist Daniel Kalinaki in his book, ‘Kizza Besigye – Uganda’s Unfinished Revolution’, writes that on January 29, 1986, Museveni in his rebel fatigues stood on the steps of parliament and was sworn in as president.
On those steps, he gave his famous inaugural speech immortalized in the infamous quote, “No one should think that what is happening today is a mere change of guard: it is a fundamental change in the politics of our country.”
Shortly after the swearing-in, the freshly installed president was whisked away in his presidential convoy. Kalinaki continues, “On the way, the driver of the lead car in the convoy switched on the hazard lights, and with the siren blaring, started forcing oncoming traffic off the road. Museveni ordered the convoy to stop, and went to have a word with the driver. This was not Amin’s convoy, Museveni said.
The driver had to maintain normal speed and respect other road users. Then Museveni got back into his car and continued on the journey.”
That was the man of the people, grounded and sensitive to his fellow citizens, winning hearts and minds. Today, the convoy has morphed from its humble beginnings into a gleaming juggernaut. You will feel its raw power before your snivelling eyes behold it. Hours ahead of the presidential convoy, life as you know it stills.
Roads are closed off, traffic comes to a standstill, even pedestrians are halted in their tracks. Those unfortunate enough to be caught in the unforgiving momentum of the presidential guards (Special Forces Command/SFC) as they clear the roads, will receive a swift introduction to brute force.
In a few years, we might be required to stop breathing until the convoy passes. On November 24, cartoonist and academic Jim Spire Ssentongo invited netizens on X to share their encounters with the president and first lady’s convoys. The responses were overwhelmingly stark – the frustration, the missed opportunities, the pain of helplessness.
Below is a dash of the abridged responses:
“… He’s the fountain of honor. But his route should, whenever possible, exclude roads close to big hospitals. I see comments here of people dying while going to hospital because of the blockades.”
“I was going to hospital to work…the fools closed the road for more than an hour. I recently saw them put aside an ambulance carrying a patient … The level of impunity is immeasurable.”
“While going to school…they stopped us from 7:00am to 9:20am…that day I just canceled classes …”
“… we had to wait for an hour so that his convoy could pass…. That day I was going for a job interview, unfortunately, I reached late and I was disqualified for the job interview … I missed a juicy job because of Museveni’s convoy.”
“… We were stopped from entering and ordered to switch off our lights and engines for nearly two hours to the extent of stopping pedestrians. To me, this feels like they’re transporting a fugitive, not a president.”
*******
Olivia Nalubwama is a “tayaad Muzukulu, tired of mediocrity and impunity” smugmountain@gmail.com
THIS ARTICLE WAS FIRST PUBLISHED IN THE OBSERVER
