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How Uganda tried to silence #March2Parliament protests

“I expected to be killed. I expected to be raped,” said Aloikin Praise Opoloje, a few days after she was released from detention on bail in August this year. 

The 25-year-old law student had been arrested, along with dozens of others, after taking part in an anti-corruption protest in Kampala on 23 July. During the arrest, one male police officer had put his hands between her legs and squeezed her genitals. Female officers had pulled her ponytail backwards and throttled her. 

But the worst was yet to come. At the Central Police Station in Kampala, where most of the arrestees were temporarily held, officers attacked Opoloje and her companions, slapping, kicking and hitting them with batons all over their bodies. 

“These are the ones distracting [sic] the peace that we have here?” one officer asked rhetorically. “Who has paid you to protest?”

That day alone, over 100 protestors, mostly young people, were arrested, denied bail and detained for close to two weeks. Uganda’s president, Yoweri Museveni, ministers, and social media accounts belonging to ruling party supporters all claimed that the protestors had been funded by foreign actors to bring down the government. 

AGORA and IWPR have interviewed a dozen protesters arrested on 23 July, who – like Opoloje – all gave accounts of being physically abused in detention. Some suffered serious injuries that they have yet to recover from. They deny any link to foreign funding and say they merely wanted to state their opposition to corruption in Uganda – which ranks 141st among the 180 countries in Transparency International’s annual Corruption Perceptions Index. 

Instead, they say, they were systematically abused and labelled enemies of Uganda. To date, none of the alleged perpetrators have been held accountable. 

Playing with fire 

Like many Ugandans, Opoloje was enraged by revelations earlier this year that government officials had been siphoning off billions of dollars’ worth of public funds for their own personal use. But the fact that parliament’s speaker and deputy speaker had procured generators for their homes at inflated prices made it personal: at the start of the year, Opoloje had given birth in a rural hospital, where she and her baby almost died due to shortages and a power cut. 

Opoloje started making videos about corruption and posting them on her social media accounts. She made contact with other like-minded young people, organising discussions on X/Twitter Spaces to generate ideas on how to protest. 

As a law student, Opoloje scrupulously suggested that they notify the police of their intent to protest. On 12 July, inspired partly by Kenya’s protests against the cost of living, the group wrote to the Kampala Metropolitan Police, saying they intended to lead a demonstration to parliament. Their key demand was that the speaker, Anita Among, resign. 

The police responded by threatening them and ordering them not to hold the protest. On 21 July, President Museveni warned the activists that they would be “playing with fire” if they went ahead.

“But by then,” Opoloje said, “I had no returning point. We had our demands and those were our demands: Anita must resign.”

Surrounded

On the day itself, Opoloje and a group of 25 others gathered at Garden City shopping mall, a few hundred metres away from parliament. Within minutes, police were deployed in the area. Suspecting that someone had tipped off the authorities, the group separated and moved to another street close to parliament. They pulled out their placards and started protesting. 

Police officers who had been trailing them quickly surrounded them and started making arrests. Throughout the day, other youths who had gathered in other parts of the city were also rounded up in the same way as they tried to protest.

It was after the arrests, at the Central Police Station, that mistreatment began in earnest. George Victor Otieno, another university student, tried to reason with officers, explaining that corruption cost Uganda dearly and resulted in government employees like themselves being badly paid.

“Why are you making a lot of noise here? Keep quiet,” shouted a senior officer. He barked out an order: “Take this gentleman away.” 

Otieno, Opoloje and other arrestees later identified the senior officer as Joel Ntabu, commander of the Kampala Metropolitan Police criminal investigations directorate, after his picture appeared on social media.

When the group arrived at the police station, having heard countless reports of torture in the cells, they had devised a plan to stay together. They held onto each other in order to stop officers from separating them.

Ntabu ordered several policemen to come and drag Otieno to one of the rooms. He also ordered that Opoloje be taken to another room.

“Make sure you do everything he tells you to do, because if you don’t do it, he’s going to kill you,” a female police officer told her. Despite being terrified, the student plucked up her courage.

“I asked: ‘Why would he kill me? What have I done wrong?’” Opoloje told us. “I said: ‘I have done nothing wrong. I am just protesting, which is my constitutional right.’”

In the secluded room, Ntabu immediately started slapping Opoloje. There were some benches and tables in one corner of the room. Ntabu pushed her into the tables, pulled her back and started slapping her again. She just kept crying and looking at him. 

Later, another officer brought her a sheet of paper on which to make a statement. But by this time, Opoloje said, she had been beaten so much she was no longer afraid. 

She declined to make a statement, insisting that she could only do this in the presence of her lawyer. Infuriated, the police officers led by Ntabu decided to take her to another room and torture her some more.

As they were taking her, she saw Otieno again. He was lying on the floor, his shirt in tatters, and a police officer was kicking him. 

“This man subjected me to a kind of torture I could only imagine, the kind of Russian-style thing that you see and hear people speaking of,” Otieno told us.

He said that the officers demanded he make a statement admitting he was being funded by foreign organisations and that he worked closely with Bobi Wine, Uganda’s leading opposition politician – who Otieno had never even met. 

“I was showered with beatings of batons. To date I have marks on my body,” he said. “I was kicked in my genitals while I was in that office. I lost my breath to the point that I was almost ready to give up and do everything they were telling me.”

Otieno added that most of his fellow arrestees were treated in the same manner.

 “Very bad things”

Reports of cruel treatment started emerging on X/Twitter the day after the protesters were arrested, from friends and family who had visited them in detention. Initially denied bail, most arrestees were released a fortnight later amid mounting public pressure. 

All 12 protesters who spoke to us named Commander Ntabu as a key perpetrator. Luke Owoyesigyire, the deputy spokesperson for Kampala Metropolitan Police, denied that Ntabu was involved. He told journalists on 5 August that Ntabu’s role was limited to supervising case files and that he does not conduct interrogations. 

Most of the arrestees, however, say Ntabu beat them up while trying to force them to make statements in the absence of their lawyers. Rather than offer to conduct a criminal investigation into their treatment, Kampala Metropolitan Police has advised the protesters to make a formal complaint to the Uganda Human Rights Commission. 

Eron Kiiza, a human rights lawyer who specialises in police violence cases and who is representing some of the protesters, said that the claims of mistreatment already made public should have been enough to prompt an investigation. 

“If police heard from the public that there was a terrorist group in a certain area,” Kiiza asked, “Would they sit back and wait for a formal complaint? The job of police is to detect crime, investigate it and apprehend the culprits. In this case the police know what happened, but they are simply not interested.”

Gideon Nova Kwikiriza, president of the activist group Ugandans on X, who was also arrested and beaten up in the cells, pointed out the irony that in other circumstances Ugandans can be arrested on the basis of social media posts.

“Why do you consider my complaint not formal when it is on X? Yet you use X to arrest people?” he said. 

On 25 July, Museveni issued a statement congratulating the security forces for halting the protests. He claimed that protesters were receiving foreign funding and that some had been planning “very bad” things against the people of Uganda. 

“Those very bad things will come out in court when those arrested are being tried,” said the president. “The evidence in court will shock many.” 

Two female police officers arrest Aloikin Praise Opoloje on September 2 2o24. It was the second time she was attempting to march to parliament in a protest against corruption. © Haggai Matsiko/IWPR/Agora

Physical and mental scars

So far, the evidence Museveni claimed to have access to has not materialised. The protesters continue to regularly appear in court as they await trial on charges of “common nuisance” – a colonial-era law that can carry a punishment of imprisonment for one year. 

Meanwhile, they must battle the physical and mental scars of their experiences. Opoloje has a mark on her neck from where her hair was pulled; Otieno says he now gets migraines. Kennedy Makana, another arrestee, said he developed hearing problems after being double-slapped on the ears. Yet another, Sadat Mugweri, is currently receiving treatment in a mental health facility. 

“He told me they would pour cold water and beat him while in detention,” Mugweri’s mother told us in a phone call, explaining that he had already been battling mental health issues before the protest. “That treatment worsened his situation.” 

Of the entire group of more than 100 people, Sammy Okanya is the most unfortunate. Badly beaten after his arrest, he has been denied bail four times and is still detained awaiting trial.

After a recent court hearing, we managed to visit Okanya in the holding cells. “I cannot currently hold urine because of the way I was tortured,” he said, adding that he had contracted tuberculosis while in prison. 

His lawyer, Ishaq Olega, said that he has asked the court to release Okanya and have his alleged abusers arrested, but his request was declined. “Everything is being handled with impunity,” he said. 

Okanya believes he is being singled out because he is a vocal critic of Museveni. “They want to instill fear in people that if they challenge the government they will be treated the same way I have been treated,” he said. 

This hasn’t deterred everyone from protesting, however. On 2 September, Opoloje and two other women, Norah Kobusingye and Kemitoma Kyenzibo, marched naked towards parliament with their bodies covered in anti-corruption messages. They were immediately arrested, charged with being a public nuisance, detained, and released on bail 10 days later. 

Yet Opoloje remains defiant. “Enough is enough,” she said. “If I lose anything, I’m willing to lose it if I can add a stone to the building of a better country of Uganda.”

This story was produced as part of a collaboration between AGORA and the Institute for War & Peace Reporting (IWPR)

Poor fishing communities targeted and discriminated against on L.Victoria

A year after his arrest by the Fish Protection Unit of the Uganda People’s Defence Forces (UPDF), Moses Musitwa was still paying off debts he incurred to get out of prison when we interviewed him for this story in April this year.  

Musitwa, a resident of Buyange Island, had been picked from his bed on a cold night in March 2023, alongside other fishermen from Bubeke Sub-county in Kalangala District, following a protest intended to overthrow an association leader of the silver fish (mukene) community. 

The fishermen accused leaders of Bubeke Sub-county of conniving with the UPDF and the wealthier Nile Perch and tilapia fishing communities, to introduce rules that would disadvantage those with licences for silver fish, commonly known as mukene.    

“They wanted us to only fish for just a few hours after midnight,” revealed Robert Ssebuguzi, a leader of mukene fishermen on Buyange Island.

Following new rules that would limit access to Lake Victoria, Ssebugizi says mukene fishermen had no choice but to try and replace their leader, who had abandoned his role representing the people that elected him. 

The UPDF reacted by branding the protesters National Unity Platform (NUP) supporters, seeking to cause political instability. The army proceeded to arrest all the fishermen from their homes, the night after the protest.  

The arrests are part of the diverse actions taken by different government officials to sabotage fishers of mukene, explains Ssebugizi, in favour of the bigger fishing community and particularly those who invested in Nile Perch, which is an important contributor to Uganda’s foreign exchange.    

Fish and its products contributed $140 million (Ush526.6 billion) to Uganda’s export receipts in 2023, with the Nile Perch as the biggest source of this income, according to Bank of Uganda statistics. Nile Perch is considered a major foreign exchange earner alongside gold, coffee and maize, which in turn partly explains the stringent government policy on fishing standards.  

Dr Robert Kayanda, the Fisheries Director at Lake Victoria Fisheries Organisation (LVFO), says the high export receipts mean the Nile Perch fishing community has more resources and an educated mass better equipped to organise and push its interests.  

“The Nile Perch association is well organised, rich and even able to call the President [of Uganda] when they need to,” Kayanda explains.

Other users on Lake Victoria and particularly the poor fishermen and dealers in mukene, and not as well organised, on the other hand, end up suffering because they cannot afford similar access to local government and national level policy makers.

“The mukene people are looked at as poor and so government is willing to pay attention to the Nile Perch people who want the lake to themselves so that they can drift, with no trouble,” Kayanda adds. 

He says that with many mukene fishermen on the lake, the big fish players cannot drift over large swathes of the lake uninterrupted. Drifting is difficult if not impossible, as mukene fishermen cut nets of anyone disrupting their own fishing. Indeed, this has been the source of friction and harassment of people like Musitwa and the majority at Buyange Island.  

Moses Kabuusu, the Member of Parliament for Kyamuswa County in Kalangala, a constituency that includes Bubeke Sub-county, revealed that many of the fishermen arrested alongside Musitwa even admitted to the trumped up charges against them, which made leaving jail difficult. 

FPU’s history on the Lake and its changing enforcement practices 

The cohort of mukene fishers from Bubeke were arrested under the FPU regime headed by Col Dick Kirya Kaija. For most of 2023, the UPDF would arrest fishers from their homes, have them charged in either Kalangala, Kampala, Mbale or Masaka, which often meant being far away from anyone that could stand surety or even bring food to the prisoner. 

“That is why I did my best to borrow and sell everything I could to make sure I left jail before being moved out of Kalangala,” says Musitwa, who spent a month in prison.    

Luckily, Kabuusu says the new FPU team under Lt Col Mercy Tukahirwa was doing things differently. Now the remaining concern is the UPDF’s inconsistence in applying fishing standards and extortion of bribes from the fishing community. 

Lt Lauben Ndifula, the FPU spokesperson, disputes these allegations. She says the complaining fishermen are likely wrongdoers, released at the mercy of the solders enforcing standards on the lake.   

First mooted in November 2015, following a decision to disband the fish enforcement body from the Ministry of Agriculture, Animal Husbandry and Fisheries, the UPDF’s FPU was supposed to restore sanity on lakes so that fish stocks could increase. Increased stocks would ensure full factory capacity returns to a time when annual export receipts from fish and its products stood at $400 million (Ush1.5 trillion). 

At the time of the FPU’s formation, Uganda’s export receipts stood at $150 million (Ush570.5 billion). The figure stood at $140 million in 2023. This means that despite the UPDF’s human rights violations against the fishing community, stocks and export receipts have not changed significantly over the last eight years. 

However, according to Kayanda, the Fisheries Director at LVFO, an organisation that coordinates East African partner states in the development of fisheries and aquaculture, the one advantage of the UPDF on the lake is that they can prevent their colleagues from fueling trade in immature fish.

“Senior army officers used to help in the cross-border trade of immature fish and the civilian force could never have stopped them,” says Kayanda. 

According to the 2022, Lake Victoria hydro-acoustic survey, through which LVFO measures fish stocks, there were 736,683 tonnes of Nile Perch in Lake Victoria. The report also noted that the size structure of Nile Perch in Lake Victoria was dominated by the smaller sizes.

“This could be attributed to concentrating fishing efforts on big size,” reads an excerpt from the report. 

When compared to the 2021 survey, the Nile Perch stocks were 34 percent lower, with the highest reduction registered in Tanzania, while Uganda registered a slight increase.  

Despite a slight increase in the fish stocks on Uganda’s side of Lake Victoria, Kabuusu, observes that it has not been adequate as evidenced by the low export receipts, under capacity production of fish factories, and the regular complaints from the fishing community.

 He adds that the main explanation for Uganda’s failure to stabilise fish stocks is the arbitrariness that has characterised the FPU over the years. 

“If existing policies on fishing were implemented consistently, and with uniformity, certainly fish stocks would have already come back,” says Kabuusu. 

Since its establishment, FPU has been managed by three different regimes, starting with the first one under Lt James Nuwagaba, who made himself a name as one of the most brutal enforcers of fishing standards. 

Lt Nuwagaba would reportedly only report to the President and ignored every other leader whether minister, Member of Parliament or local government.   

“He and the soldiers under him had the latitude to do many things, including using torture and brutality,” Kabuusu says, “They scared, scarred, crippled, and even killed. They shot at people and nobody was questioned.”

Led by Rebecca Kadaga, the Speaker of Parliament between 2016 and 2021, parliamentarians demanded accountability from the UPDF but this did not stop the torture of fishermen by the team under Lt Nuwagaba. 

Since the executive did nothing to hold FPU under Lt Nuwagaba accountable, the NRM was punished at the polls. 

“Most of the NRM Members of Parliament lost the elections because of the failure to intervene when the army officers were violating rights of people,” Kabuusu says. 

“In my constituency, I was out of Parliament, I found people with wounds from live ammunition and others had been killed by boats.”

The executive finally listened to the people’s cry and replaced Lt Nuwagaba, who had been FPU boss since January 2017, just before the 2021 general elections.

According to the fishing community, Lt. Col. Dick Kaija did bring some sanity to the FPU’s work around controlling illegal fishing. 

“There was no burning and torching of houses like it was in the Nuwagaba era, but still, he failed to stop his people from taking money from the fishermen,” says Kabuusu. 

Coupled with the extortionist tendencies was the decision to arrest and hold fishermen far away from home—in Mbale, Masaka and Kitalya, among other places. Kaija’s other challenge was that the other officers with whom he had been appointed had too much power and would ignore him. 

“I cannot fault Lt. Colonel Dick Kaija, but you would even wonder if his team was actually under his command,” Kabuusu explains, “It was common to find junior staff at the rank of captain that didn’t take orders from their senior commander.” 

New mukene fishing rule

Kaija has since been replaced with Lt. Col. Mercy Tukahiirwa, under whom cases of arresting people in the night and holding them in far-flung places have reduced. 

However, the fishing community say the corruption and enforcement of policies that favour those fishing Nile Perch, still exists. They cite the case where the FPU connived with the Association of Fishers and Lake Users Uganda (AFALU) to convince the Minister of State for Fisheries to pass a law that makes fishing mukene unprofitable.   

At the beginning of the year, Hellen Adoa, the Minister of State for Fisheries announced a review of the fishing methods of mukene from hurry-up method to chota-chota method. 

Lt. Ndifula, the FPU spokesperson, explains that the hurry-up method, banned in February 2024, applies a long net that can cover up to 100 metres in length and with a depth that can go up to between nine and fifteen panels. 

“It is long and they have been using them. When they are doing the fishing, they pull that net and you find the mesh size is about 5, 6 millimetres,” says Ndifula. The right mesh size for mukene is supposed to be between 8 and 10 millimetres, says Ndifula. 

Consequently, the Ministry of Agriculture, Animal Industry and Fisheries, decided to innovate backwards, and return the mukene fishing community to the more traditional chota-chota method. 

“With Chota chota design, a net is circular, cannot be long, as it is can be about 8 feet in length,” he says. 

Ndifula says the UPDF sampled ten boats of mukene in Kiyindi, Buikwe and found all types of fish. 

“We tried to count and you find that ten boats have come up with 3000 young Nile Perch and numerous tilapia,” Ndifula explains, noting that the UPDF found that mukene fishing was harming young tilapia and Nile Perch and compromising stocks on Lake Victoria.

Ndifula, however, notes that fishermen have told the UPDF enforcement team that chota-chota is primitive and dysfunctional in the current economic conditions. 

Additionally, Madi Ssebaduka, a mukene fisherman, says that it is the Ministry of Agriculture, Animal Husbandry and Fisheries working with its supporting agencies that taught fishermen to use the hurry-up method. Under the current economic circumstances, where one needs ten to 30 jerry cans of fuel to power a night of fishing, he adds, chota-chota is just impractical.

“It is like they have asked us to cut off one of our legs,” Ssebaduka says of the new regulations. 

The new regulations are not what the mukene fishing community needs, says Kayanda. Instead, it would be better for Uganda to encourage Mukene fishers to invest in equipment that takes advantage of the deeper parts of Lake Victoria. 

According to the Lake Victoria hydro-acoustic survey for 2022, Uganda has the highest mukene stocks owing to failure to adequately invest in deeper water fishing technologies.  Unlike Kenya, Uganda also has a large section of Lake Victoria and this has helped in safeguarding mukene stocks. Since Tanzania, with the biggest portion of Lake Victoria has lower than Uganda’s mukene stocks, size is not the only explanation.

On most complaints, made by AFULU, which include that the Mukene fishing community uses solar lights to allegedly chase Nile Perch to Kenya and Tanzania, Kayanda says these same technologies are employed in all the countries that share Lake Victoria. 

Kayanda says instead of forcing mukene fishers to cut on their capacity, encouraging deeper fishing and penalising those found fishing close to the lakeshores where breeding happens, would be a better option.

‘Worse than business as usual’: EU overlooks Uganda’s attack on human rights

The European Union claims to stand up for human rights, the rule of law, transparency in government and peaceful, democratic elections. Yet in recent years it has allowed one of its partners, Uganda, to repeatedly violate these ideals.

In 2020 and 2021, President Yoweri Museveni’s government oversaw the most violent election cycle in Ugandan history. At least 54 people were killed during campaign season, more than any election season before. When the dust was settled, Museveni secured his sixth term and 35th year in power.

In January 2021, Parliament passed the repressive 2023 Anti-Homosexuality Act into law and was soon after embroiled in a series of corruption and embezzlement scandals. In July 2024, over 100 young people were arrested and charged for peacefully marching against corruption and wanton expenditures by the government – in what constitutional lawyers have condemned as a violation of their right to peaceful assembly.

The EU has previously withheld funds for countries where human rights have been abused; suspending financial support for Niger following last year’s coup, and for Ethiopia in late 2020 amid the atrocities being committed by the government in the Tigray war. In 2013, it cancelled €13m of aid to Gambia over a lack of progress in human rights, in part because of a law against homosexuality. In each of these instances, the EU eventually resumed its flow of aid after apparently being satisfied that change was on the horizon.

But it has seemingly turned a blind eye to the egregious state acts that threaten human rights, freedoms and lives in Uganda – including the killing of protesters, arbitrary detention of political dissidents and prevalent infringement on LGBTIQ rights. Publicly, the EU has only issued statements of concern, with an official telling openDemocracy that the rights violations against Uganda’s queer community were “not assessed” to be “widespread and systematic”.

Uganda is an increasingly important trade and development partner for the EU. The East African country’s exports to the bloc have grown from €500m in 2020 to more than €800m today, and in March the EU announced it will allocate €200m of investment for Uganda under its Global Gateway project, which aims to mobilise €300bn for development projects in partner states by 2027.

Since 2017, the EU has also supported humanitarian action in Uganda with an aid package of more than €309m. This year it allocated a further €27.5m for aid in the country, according to the European Commission’s website.
Suspending aid to Uganda would “deprive the most vulnerable populations, including LGBTIQ persons, from vital support. Disengagement by the EU would also create gaps which may be further filled by other players who do not share EU values,” said EU Commissioner for International Partnerships Jutta Urpilainen in a September 2023 statement.

Violations against LGBTIQ Ugandans not “systematic or widespread” enough
In May 2023, Uganda passed one of the world’s harshest anti-gay laws, the 2023 Anti-Homosexuality Act (AHA). People found guilty of homosexual acts face life imprisonment under the law, which also introduced the death penalty for so-called “aggravated” cases, such as gay sex with someone below the age of 18 or where someone has a sexually transmitted terminal illness.

The EU’s public response to the AHA was a mildly critical statement. On the day it became law, EU high representative on foreign affairs Joseph Borrel warned that the Ugandan government must “…protect all of its citizens and uphold their basic rights. Failure to do so will undermine relationships with international partners”.

Since then, more than 90 people have been charged under the AHA, says Ugandan human rights promotion and legal aid organisation, the Human Rights Awareness and Promotion Forum (HRAPF). LGBTIQ Ugandans have also suffered at least 1,031 incidents of human rights abuses and rights violations – including breaches of their rights to freedom from torture and abuse – according to a recent report by Convening For Equality, a Ugandan LGBTIQ rights-focused campaign group.

The EU has the power to sanction Ugandan government officials over these abuses using the Global Human Rights Sanctions Regime (GHRSR). This mechanism would allow the bloc to invoke travel bans, freeze bank accounts, and forbid EU businesses and governments from making funds available to sanctioned individuals or non-governmental entities.

It was adopted by the EU Foreign Affairs Council in December 2020 as a way to hold individuals and entities from non-EU countries responsible for “widespread, systematic” and “serious” human rights violations.

The GHRSR has so far been applied to individuals in countries including Russia, China and South Sudan over a range of human rights abuses, although none related to LGBTIQ rights.
The EU’s stance on Uganda, however, appears to be that there haven’t been enough human rights abuses in the country to warrant intervention via the GHRSR.

The violations against Uganda’s queer community did not meet the criteria for sanctions, according to Guilliame Chartrain, the deputy ambassador of the EU delegation to Uganda, in an interview.

“At least if we refer to the AHA, the adoption by a Parliament of a law is not in itself enough as a legal basis [for implementing the GHRSR], it has to produce systematic and widespread effects. The assessment is that Uganda is not in this situation today,” Chartrain said.
It appears things would have to get worse for queer Ugandans before the EU would act. In the absence of targeted sanctions, the EU has increased funding for civil society to respond to victims of the AHA, according to Cathal Gilbert, the human rights officer at the EU delegation in Uganda. The EU and Germany last year allocated €15m for civil society organisations, non-governmental organisations and human rights defenders in Uganda.

The EU argues that its approach is to deal directly (and privately) with the government. “We believe in more direct engagement… without giving the impression that we are publicly interfering into what is in reality, a judicial Ugandan process,” Gilbert told openDemocracy, referring to an ongoing case at the Ugandan Supreme Court challenging the anti-gay law.

The US Congress, on the other hand, last month took a public stance against the AHA. It introduced a resolution that criticised “Uganda’s undemocratic human rights regression” and supported sanctions that the US Department of State in May 2024 imposed on five former and current Ugandan government and military officials over allegations of corruption and extrajudicial killings by the Ugandan army.

In its resolution, Congress condemned the “criminalisation and draconian punishments regarding consensual same-sex sexual conduct and so-called ‘promotion of homosexuality’” and backed a “reduction of support” to Uganda “until the Anti-Homosexuality Act is repealed”.

Arming acts of suppression
Under the EU’s 2008 arms trade policy, member states are legally bound to carefully consider whether any weapons and other military equipment they sell might be used for “internal repression”. This can include “torture and other cruel, inhuman and degrading treatment, disappearances, arbitrary detentions and other major violations of human rights and fundamental freedoms”.

Yet the EU and its member states are crucial partners to the Ugandan army, providing it with military training and equipment. Six EU members – Austria, Bulgaria, Croatia, Czech Republic, France and Poland – sold military equipment worth €50m to Uganda in 2022, according to Chatrain. Between 2020 and 2022, EU states also exported ammunition worth €208m to Uganda.

Uganda’s army plays a crucial role in Museveni’s violence and coercive machinery, which aims to repress opposition politicians and protesters, particularly during election years.

At least 54 people were killed and many more injured by armed police and military in November 2020 when riots erupted in support of then-opposition presidential candidate Bobi Wine (real name Robert Kyagulanyi). Wine had been arrested over an alleged violation of Covid-19-related social distancing measures less than two months before the January 2021 election.
Wine’s party, the National Unity Platform (NUP), says that more than three years later there has been no justice for the victims of the riots or for the 28 NUP supporters who have also been held in prison awaiting trial since June 2021, without the option of bail. The supporters, who are all civilians, were charged with illegal weapons possession and their cases will be heard by a military court.

Weeks after the election, the EU Parliament passed a resolution calling for accountability for human rights violations in Uganda, including the 2021 election violence. It recommended sanctioning the perpetrators under the EU Magnitsky Act, a mechanism that allows sanctions to be brought against foreigners involved in human rights abuses.

Nothing came of the resolution. Chartrain, the EU ambassador, told openDemocracy that EU Parliament resolutions are not binding, but are taken into consideration by the EU delegation to Uganda as they “reflect the values and the priorities of the EU citizens”.

It has taken no further action. In May, EU ambassador to Uganda Jan Sadek posted pictures of his meeting with Muhoozi Kainerugaba, the country’s chief of defence forces and President Museveni’s son, on X (formerly Twitter). The timing was uncanny. Hours earlier, the US had announced it would be sanctioning five Ugandan officials over allegations of corruption and extrajudicial killings by the Ugandan army.

“Those pictures coming in on the same day [the US] took action raises questions about if the EU also disagrees with what the Ugandan government is doing,” said Agather Atuhaire, one of the Ugandan activist journalists who exposed graft and corruption schemes in government. The EU previously recognised Atuhaire’s work, awarding her the prestigious 2023 EU Human Rights Defender Award.

In 2022, exiled Ugandan author and activist Kakwenza Rukirabashaija claimed that Kainerugaba was present during his forced detention and his torture in a military prison in December 2021. And in July 2022 the Guardian reported that the International Criminal Court (ICC) received a petition that included the testimonies of 215 Ugandans accusing Museveni and Kainerugaba of torturing political dissidents in “secret detention centres” during the 2021 election period.

Chartrain, the deputy EU ambassador, told openDemocracy that the EU does not have a legal mechanism for sanctioning countries or individuals for corruption, and added that the accusations against Kainerugaba have not been proven.

“[He] was not named in the sanctions imposed by the Americans, and according to the feedback that we got from the ICC, there are no open cases concerning Uganda,” Chartrain said. “There are no concrete elements today that could factor into our decision to engage with the Ugandan authorities.”

The NUP told openDemocracy that the petition is ongoing and the ICC may take years to decide whether to investigate.

Is the EU pussyfooting?
Human rights campaigners told openDemocracy that the EU has outright refused to reexamine its relationship with the Ugandan government. “For their own interests… they don’t want to be seen to be too hard on the Ugandan government,” said a past recipient of the EU Human Rights Defender Award, who spoke to openDemocracy on the condition of anonymity.

“It is worse than business as usual. It’s the air of promotion that Uganda is a place where European corporations should come and invest. That’s leverage that [the EU is] creating for an administration that wants LGBTQ+ people to disappear. That’s an astonishing position for a political entity,” said Asia Russell, the executive director of Health GAP, an international organisation pushing for universal access to medical treatment for people with HIV.

In the past, the EU has acted more decisively on Uganda. In 2012, it suspended funding for the country after $13m of aid for refugee settlements was found to have been embezzled through the prime minister’s office. In 2018, Germany withheld €100m of funding for the Ugandan government, demanding accountability for officials implicated in a UN audit that uncovered corruption in Uganda’s refugee scheme.

In a letter dated 16 April 2024, Convening for Equality, a Ugandan LGBTIQ-focused campaign group called for a review of EU funding to Uganda, suggesting that the EU should pause or redirect any funds going through government entities or essential humanitarian support to non-government organisations committed to providing services to and employing LGBTIQ people.

Gilbert of the EU delegation in Uganda responded by saying: “Less than 5% of the funding that we provide in Uganda goes to the government. Almost all of our development cooperation is channelled through development agencies, UN bodies or civil society. So removing that funding is not going to be a hit on the treasury of [Uganda].”

In response to openDemocracy on whether there are considerations for funding to the Ugandan government to be rerouted, the EU Commission said it “deeply regrets” the April 2024 constitutional court ruling that upheld most of the AHA.

It added: “We will continue to follow the implementation of the law and engaging on human rights issues with the Ugandan authorities and civil society as part of our longstanding and broad-based partnership with the country to ensure that all Ugandan citizens, regardless of their sexual orientation and gender identity, are protected and treated equally, with dignity and respect.”

On the 2020-21 election violence, the Commission said: “The EU has expressed both publicly and in our direct contacts with the Ugandan government its concerns about human rights violations in Uganda, including regarding the violence around the 2021 elections. We believe in maintaining an open channel with the government to address these issues constructively.”

The EU’s position is reflective of age-old colonial and imperial power dynamics, says journalist and feminist Rosebell Kagumire, and as such the continental bloc is unlikely to change its stance any time soon.

“African countries are still being extracted, in so many ways. The EU maintaining the leaders that do not serve our countries, but serve them and the small privileged few is one of the most glaring symptoms and manifestations of this,” she said.

How Makerere erased our freedoms

It is 7:00pm July 14, 2022. Despite the onset of darkness, hundreds of students are moving on all university roads, chanting their candidates’ names. On the road from Livingstone Hall to Mitchell Hall alone, about 10 bands draped in different colours of different political parties, are singing all tribes of names and sounds. Kadodi (the Gishu traditional dance) is the most dominant.

Suddenly, there is gloom. News is circulating that at Northcote, a student has been stabbed. Minutes later, it is confirmed that Betungura Bewatte, a Uganda Christian University student, has succumbed to the stabbing. Betungura had studied at Mbarara High School with Tukamushaba Justus, the Forum for Democratic Change party candidate in the Students’ Guild presidential race. He had joined the campaign trail to support his friend.

His death is an unprecedented disaster. The Student Guild election campaigns at Makerere had always been peaceful. The final campaign day was always like a mega festival with students giving a final push of support for their candidates. Even students (like Betungura) from other universities, most of whom were close associates of candidates, youths, and politicians, from political parties all joined the campaign trails.

But on this day, all students are engulfed by a mixture of shock and fear. The public is outraged and the incident is immediately politicised.

As different camps blame each other for the incident, police swing into action arresting even those that helped take Betungura to hospital. The nation is looking to the University Management for answers.

At about 11:00pm, four hours after news of Betungura’s death, the University Council chairperson, Lorna Magara, releases a letter with three directives. The ongoing election is suspended indefinitely; the Students’ Guild is also suspended with immediate effect (this includes the Guild caretaker government and the Students Common Room (leadership of residential halls); and lastly, Management will investigate the cases of violence in the electoral campus and report to the council for appropriate action. 

The writing is on the wall: the university management is going to teach students a lesson.

Alionzi Lawrence alias Dangote, the National Unity Platform (NUP) candidate, was poised to win the election (he eventually becomes Guild President after the resumption of the electoral exercise). A sensational campaign song composed by his team had taken social media by storm. What did the death of Betungura Bewatte mean in terms of freedoms at the University? “Everything, everything changed,” Alionzi responded in his quintessential Lugbara accent when I asked him early this year as I did interviews for this story.

Prof Jude Sempebwa, the General Secretary of Makerere University Academic Staff Association (MUASA), would later tell me the same thing.

Following Ms Lorna Magara’s letter, student representatives were kicked out of the University Council and removed from the caretaker government. The caretaker government was the temporary student leadership that existed during election time. 

On July 29, 2022, two weeks after the University Council suspended the Guild, the students decided to form a select committee to push for the restoration of the Students’ Guild. The first meeting was held on Google Meet. This is where the concerned students chose the select committee representatives.  The meeting was held on a Friday. The following Monday, August 1, 2022, Namwoza Sulaiman, a third-year student of Medicine and Surgery and Speaker of Lumumba Hall who convened that meeting, was suspended.  “It is alleged that you made resolutions tantamounting to misinforming fellow students as well as directing the University Council to reinstate the student Guild, senior common room, and all student leadership structures,” reads part of the suspension letter he received from Vice Chancellor. 

Kabulwa Muzafalu, a student of Journalism and the host of ‘Out Of The Box’ X Space was also threatened severally by the University Management for hosting controversial discussions about the university. He received messages and phone calls from senior officials including from the Vice Chancellor’s office warning him against conducting certain discussions or hosting certain critical voices on his X Space. These senior officials even contacted his lecturers to further exert pressure. But his lecturers defended him saying hosting controversial discussions was a central part of the journalism they were teaching him. 

After the suspension of Sula, as he was commonly known, I took over the leadership of the select committee. I had been its spokesperson. Along with Luyomba Kelvin, the General Secretary to the committee, and other concerned students, we decided to come up with more creative but less risky ways to voice the students’ concerns. 

We organised prayers at the university’s Freedom Square, and invited heads of the Anglican, Catholic and Islamic faiths at the university to lead the prayers. The prayers were fairly attended by students. The Reverends and the Iman did not attend. The following day, the warden of Mitchell Hall, where I was residing, called me to his office.

He seemed to have grown fond of me as one of the disciplined but influential student leaders. Our interactions were always warm. But on this occasion, I saw a different man—he looked worried and had no time for the usual pleasantries. Instead, immediately I entered, he pulled out a letter from the drawer of his desk. It was a warning letter – the last warning! There had been a few warnings before over student organizing related activities. But this time, I was being warned for organising prayers!

The famous Freedom Square was no longer free. Even before the incident of the student’s death, three Guild Presidential candidates had been struck out of the Guild Presidential race for holding what was termed an illegal assembly at Freedom Square. 

The Square was even fenced off. Students had to write to the office of the Deputy Vice Chancellor of Finance and Administration DVC F&A to access it. The three candidates had been punished for not following this procedure. 

One of the victims, Mwesigwa Mugambya Calvin was a tall, notable medical student, who enjoyed massive support. His efforts to petition the Vice Chancellor and the University Council came to naught.  He finally gave up and decided to back Alionzi, who had at the time stood for the post of Nsibirwa Hall chairman.

Aftermath of Bewatte’s death, the university did not only stop at the three directives. The university established the Student Constitutional Committee to come up with a new students’ Guild constitution. This new constitution would address students’ issues. The students opposed this move. They argued that a new Guild leadership ought to have been voted into power and charged with reviewing the constitution and then amendments could be made by a leadership with a legitimate and popular mandate. 

But the University Council went on with this committee. The committee was formed by law students, largely detached from the mainstream student leadership, who seemed excited about the idea of making a constitution, and whose other claim to this role were familial ties and connections to members of the university top management. 

For instance, the chair of that committee was a son to Dr Kiggundu Muhammad, former university Public Relations Officer under Prof. Nawangwe. The young man had been a close friend. He had even called to consult me as to whether he should join the committee after administrators had called him and asked him to join. I discouraged him from standing against the students to extend the interests of the administration. I also told him that despite our friendship, I would lead the effort to oppose him and the entire scheme.

A few days after our conversation, he went ahead and took up the position. He is now an aide to Prof. Sarah Ssali, a member of the University Council, representing the Senate. Other members of that committee have since been awarded jobs in different university offices or placements for graduate studies for a job well done.

The committee came up with new changes, which included banning political parties at the university campus, putting the Dean of Students at the centre of organising the student elections, thereby taking power from the students, banning first-year students from standing for any Guild leadership positions, among others. 

The state of political rights and the capacity of students to express themselves at the university was never the same again.

On June 23, 2022, a week after the death incident, Makerere University held the annual Frank Kalimuzo memorial lecture in celebration of the former Vice Chancellor’s contribution and sacrifice towards academia in Uganda.

Dr Kalimuzo had been the first indigenous Vice Chancellor of Makerere University appointed by President Apollo Milton Obote. Shortly, after his appointment, Idd Amin overthrew Obote in January 1971. Amin’s leadership would be characterised by abductions and extra-judicial killings. 

In 1972, Kalimuzo would be picked up by security personnel never to be seen alive again. Other academics including Mahmood Mamdani, Robert Serumaga, George Kanyeihamba, and Dan Nabudele, would escape into exile. Some joined political groupings that later kicked Amin out of office. The Obote II government provided a short sigh of relief but later relapsed.

The 1986 capture of power by the National Resistance Army under Yoweri Museveni promised a new dawn. For academics, it was a time to flourish. This culminated in the hosting of a continental conference on academic freedoms in 1990 that resulted into the Kampala Declaration.

The Cold War had ended thereby marking a new epoch in the trajectory of African states. As decolonisation had spread through much of the continent, the struggle against apartheid was underway. The likes of Mamadou Diouf, Mahmood Mamdani, Arthur Mafeje, and other African intellectuals wrote about this new trajectory in their works such as the Academic Freedom in Africa that emerged from the declaration. In this sense, Uganda was hoisted as the centre of intellectual freedom on the continent.

The process that sought to establish a new national consensus was initiated. Consultations on the aggregate aspirations of the citizens were in high gear. In 1995, a new constitution was promulgated. While academic freedoms were not exclusively defined, they were provided for in the broader provisions like Article 29 on the right of expression and Article 30 on the right to education. 

But shortly things started changing. 

End of Part I

How Makerere erased our freedoms – Part 2

Karimojong women and children face tough choices home and away

Former President Apollo Milton Obote is famously quoted in the Uganda Gazette of 1963 to have said that “we shall not wait for Karamoja to develop,” following a visit to the sub-region to the north east, then as the least developed in the country, one year after independence.  Sixty-one years later, a lot has changed but the semi-arid region still lags behind in many social and economic indicators, and with at least 1.2 million living in poverty according to the 2016/2017 National Household Survey. These torrid conditions have mostly left women and children on the brink. This story is published in collaboration with Daily Monitor

Mukikaramoja, a drab square-like shantytown, on the margins of the windswept Masese landing site in Jinja city, is the archetypical definition of urban squalor:  mud and wattle houses, piles of excrement between houses, stagnant water, an unpleasant stench fanning across the air, and abject poverty that almost tangible.

The majority Karimojong-inhabited slum has been expanding during the last thirty years, thanks in part, to the high rural urban migration from the semi-arid region north east of the country, and the rampant trafficking of women and children to the streets to beg.

Yet, despite the litany of life hardships: poor sanitation and living conditions, crime rates, and routine harassment by police, residents say life is better off here than back in Karamoja, a region known for the poverty amidst plenty paradox; sizeable deposits of variety of minerals including gold, iron ore, uranium, and marble, and large tracts of flat arable land.

The sub-region nine districts of Napak, Kotido, Nabilatuk, Abim, Moroto, Amudat, Nakapiripirit, Karenga, and Kaboong, according to Uganda Bureau of Statistics’ (Ubos) Uganda’s National Livestock Census released in April, has the highest number of sheep with 1.8 million (40.4 percent); the highest number of goats with 2.6 million (15.2 percent); and the highest number of cattle with 2.4 million (16.7 percent).

Add to the mix, the huge tourism potential in terms of variety and distribution, and forests that cover 12 percent of the total size are.

Despite these vast resources Karamoja remains one of the country’s poorest regions. Ubos reported in 2019 that the region suffers the highest poverty rate of 60.2 percent, way above the national average. Other reports on food insecurity have placed the sub-region’s status at 75 percent.

Poverty, hunger, drought, and general insecurity, marked by cattle rustlers from neighbouring Kenya and general lawlessness, have pushed majority residents to the brink. It is also for the same reasons that particularly women and children are increasingly at risk of traffickers, recruited as beggars in many large towns, sex slaves, or domestic workers.

Thirty-two-year-old Irene Achia first came to Jinja in the early 2000s from Kotido aged eight. Karamoja was facing severe drought and hunger at the time, and Achia’s mother was faced with two options; see her children starve to death or migrate. The latter option seemed realistic because she had an extended family member who, long before had survived on begging in Kampala.

Achia and her family, however, settled in Mukikaramoja scrapping by, begging on the streets, and combing through garbage bins. Her mother died in 2004 leaving Achia and her four siblings to fend for themselves. Lucky for her, she had been enrolled in a nearby primary school and later secondary but eventually dropped out. Life became tough; she conceived at twenty, fairly late going by customs in her community, then came the second child, but her first ‘husband’ passed away. She “remarried again” but her second husband was killed by machete wielding thugs while “returning from work.”

A hard knock life

Today, hers is a hard knock life: went into begging but discarded it because she was too old to attract sympathy, tried prostitution to feed her children, and currently lives on the veranda on a mud and wattle house of a friend with her children. When it remains, they seek refuge in one the many shell wattle houses around.

“I just want the best for my children, that is all,” Achia told this newspaper in Jinja recently. Either way, Achia maintains life is better here for her and the children. “I left the village when I was young. I don’t know any relatives there,” she added.

Despite life’s hardships, there remains a kindred spirit shared across the community. When a community member dies they pool finances to repatriate the body back home for burial. The dark underbellies are, the influx of street children from Karamoja many of whom are lured by the existing child and women trafficking rings, crime rates, alcoholism, extreme cases of gender-based violence (GBV), high school dropout rates, and high levels of teenage pregnancies and marriages: some parents force their daughters as young as age 13 into marriage as insurance policy against the poor living conditions.

The chairperson of the community, Mr Paul Cheruto, who immigrated to the area 30 years ago starting off as a hawker to owning a merchandise shop today, told this newspaper that they try to live harmoniously with the Busoga community.

“Life is surely tough but we mind our business. This is now home for many, especially the children,” Mr Cheruto said.

Mukikaramoja is one of the small pockets of majority- Karimojong inhabited slums across the country where particularly women and children are caught between a rock and hard place.  This newspaper talked to several women who intimated they first came to the area as “beggars”, forcibly sent by their parents or brought by extended family members. 

Money collected is split in different ways, usually by the ring leader. Parents back in Karamoja who willfully gave away their children receive a payment, either weekly or monthly.

In a first, the Kampala Capital City Authority (KCCA) court on February 22, sentenced more than 100 Karimojong women and mothers to one month of community service after pleading guilty to sending their children to beg for alms on the streets. 

The group of women, all from Napak had been rounded up more than a month earlier during sprucing up of the city in preparation for the back-to-back 19th Non-Alignment Movement (NAM) and Third South Summit held at Commonwealth Resort, Munyonyo between January 15-21. More than 300 children were rounded up during the sweep.

The prosecution told the KCCA magistrates court that the women’s action contravened the Child Protection Ordinance, enacted on June 8, 2022, that prohibits acts that encourage children to hoover on the streets. 

Grade One Magistrate Edgar Karakire ordered the group of women and their children to be repatriated to Napak district to serve their sentences, and later rehabilitation. 

Back in Napak, the children, majority of school going age were split into two groups:  one group of 107 pupils were admitted to boarding school at Lokodiokodioi Primary School in Naitakwae parish in Ngoleriet Subcounty, and another group of 201 to Lotome Girls Primary School in Lotome sub-County.

The pupils, district authorities told Daily Monitor in late-April during a visit to the area, will remain housed in the boarding sections of the two schools until completion, or at least for three years.

Between rock and hard place

The Napak district senior probation officer, Ms Molly Nangiro said with the recent mass rescue they decided to enroll them directly in school.

“Some might say it is institutionalising but it is not; it is to support rehabilitation, to change attitude, taken through a process to accept the change,” Ms Nangiro said. “Previously, whenever children returned they would be reunited with their families, only to return to the streets after a matter of weeks.”

She added: “We want to create champions in communities, who believe in education. Imagine all these children returning back to communities after completing a certain phase of education. Let it be known for the record that we are not keeping away the parents, they are allowed to visit the children at the schools within guided parameters.”

“We are trying to have a pilot of three years to see how long the experiment can run. It is difficult, but practical,” Ms Ahamed Fardosa, the Napak Deputy Resident District Commissioner told this newspaper.

“Normally, the routine was that we repatriate the children from Kampala and reunite them with their parents, only for them to go back to the streets again. This time we want to keep them in school for at least three years. The parents can only visit whenever they want.”

The two schools, however, are grappling with a shortage of essential items for the pupils including food and clothing, and have to rely mostly on well-wishers, NGOs, and UN agencies that have long operated in the sub-region.

Ms Martha Chamcham, the head teacher of Lokodiokodioi Primary School told Daily Monitor at the time when we visited that they had written to the Office of Prime Minister (OPM) about the need for more food but were yet to receive feedback.

Ms Chamcham described it as absolutely necessary to keep the children—both the repatriates and ordinary school going children—in the boarding section to reduce chances of “falling victim” to trafficking perpetrators.

“Incidentally, many of those who were brought back knew how to read and write. One girl told us she had been in school for five years but dropped out, to beg to look for school fees. It was hard for them in the beginning but with time many started to get used to it. We just have to conduct more guidance and counseling,” she said.

The method to this madness, officials explained, and investigations by this newspaper over the last two months show, is to check on the rampant levels of trafficking of children from particularly Napak and Moroto districts, especially by their parents or extended family members, to Kampala and other large urban areas to beg.

The few parents who agreed to talk to this newspaper saw no problem with their children living on the streets as beggars. Pauline Chemat, a resident in Matany town in Napak argued that “in that way they are learning survival tactics.”

Six months after the sweep on Kampala’s streets, small groups of children are already back on Kampala’s roads. There is a beehive of them in Jinja city, Mbale city, Bugiri, Masindi, and as far as Nairobi, next door in Kenya.

A July 2023 study titled Trafficking of Karamoja Women and Girls from North-Eastern Uganda into Nairobi by the Kenyatta University’s Department of International Relations and Conflict and Strategic Studies, documented poverty, war and conflict, cultural discrimination against women, illiteracy and a lack of awareness of women’s rights, weak legislations, and lack of slow prosecution of offenders and corrupt immigration personnel, as the primary drivers of trafficking.

The Napak paradox

One question that baffles authorities is that the majority of the trafficked women and children, to beg on the streets of Kampala or engage in other activities, are from Napak district. Several studies published online over the ideas also reference Napak and to some extent Moroto which for years was the capital of the sub-region.

“We also keep asking ourselves the same question, and don’t understand why Napak stands out,” Ms Fardosa said, adding: “The basic explanation could be the district neighbours three districts of Soroti; Kapelebyong, Katakwi, and Amuria. It is also said that the first people to go to Kampala looking for a better life migrated from here and set off a long chain.”

Mr Robert Owilli Abia, the Napak district Deputy Chief Administrative Officer explained that for decades the sub-region has remained under the chokehold of “low social indicators”— health, security and safety, and environment—that keep pushing people away.

“Still that doesn’t answer why Napak, and not any other district,” he noted, adding: “However, we have done some studies and came to conclude that the key drivers that push these children away to the streets are, poor parenting, people being to handouts, high levels of Gender-Based Violence (GBV), alcoholism, insecurity, and the breakdown in social order.”

A December 2022 report titled “Endline Study of Commercial Sexual Exploitation of Children in Napak” by the Uganda Global Fund to End Modern Slavery” detailed that the sub-region’s “extremely high rate of multidimensional child poverty (84 percent), which refers to a lack of both material and social needs, and a traditional acceptance of migration for livelihood increase children’s vulnerability to commercial sexual exploitation.”

During—the British colonial administration did not reach the area until 1898 and after found it problematic to duplicate their governance system in the area— and after colonialism—until around 2006—Karamoja disparately lagged behind in terms of development due a combination of factors including the Karamojong’s pastoral way of life.

The region was stereotyped, marginalised, and ostracised, and although that is changing, thanks in part to the steady flow of donor funded recovery programmes after almost 20 years of disarmament, a long road remains ahead. Northern Uganda, Karamoja included, received over Shs4trillion in various stimulus interventions.

Through the Ministry of Karamoja nestled in OPM, the government is currently implementing the Karamoja Integrated Development Plan, a series of policy blueprints to address several development paradoxes in the region.

Mr Abia and other district authorities described the women and children trafficking ring as an intricate one, involving perpetrators who recruit and deploy at the local area level.

“The other driver is peer pressure; and this has a long history. Those who have survived on begging in Kampala set an example and act as a pull factor,” he said, adding: “Cultural institutions, too, do not work, so children are not taken care of; themselves they produce early and don’t take care of their children and engage in commercial sex leaving their infants vulnerable. There are also big poverty issues, you find people with large tracts of land and head of cattle but say they are poor. Then there is alcoholism. There are several factors.”

Ms Fardosa, however, indicated that the “problem of trafficking” revolves around four sub-counties of Lopei, Iriiri, and Matanyi, out of the 14 sub counties comprising the district.

The Iriiri sub-county chairperson, Mr Ben Peter Loburo described as “not intentional” that women and children are running away or being lured by traffickers.

“The thing is that somewhere and somehow it happens like that. It has been happening for years and examples were made out of it that it pays off,” Mr Loburo argued: “Then you have food insecurity, water insecurity, and general insecurity.  The government is trying in terms of services like water but things remain tough. Then education is expensive. We are dealing with a lot, so people move to search for better lives.”

Utility

According to Napak district authorities, between 2019 and 2022, 1,381 street children were repatriated and reunited with families although it is believed many have since gone back. Generally, it is expected that some 3,600 children and women are on streets in various towns of Uganda and Kenya and as far as Ethiopia.