Hon. Kyagulanyi vs. Hon. Basalirwa — The Great Ugandan Sellout Show

By Yasin Kakande, Author of The Missing Corpse

The Makerere Days: A Story From 2004

Back in 2004, in one of those halls at Makerere University, we gathered to nominate and elect leaders for the JEEMA youth wing. Hon. Asuman Basalirwa, the ringmaster of the day, called my name when it was time to nominate a secretary for disability.

“Let’s stand, me and Yasin, and see who takes this nomination,” he said, pulling me onto the podium.

It was his way of joking about the slight imbalance in my left leg — I walk with a small limp, a lighthearted moment that could have felt insulting today, but back then, we were all young and just trying to have a laugh.

Early Political Days in JEEMA

I got nominated. I even got elected. Secretary for Disability — though in reality, my role in JEEMA back then was more like a publicity secretary. I was the young guy who tagged along to events in the car of Mr. Mayanja Muhammad Kibirige, the party’s founder and president. After every event, I’d write up news stories and send them to newspapers, radio stations, and TV.

Even in its early days, JEEMA was full of energy and ideas. For example, the concept of Universal Primary Education first appeared in Mr. Kibirige’s presidential manifesto before President Museveni’s government adopted it. We used to joke that the government “stole” the idea. There were also rumors that Museveni’s regime had tried to buy off Mr. Kibirige, but he refused. In our circles, we saw our party’s leadership as incorruptible. The regime could steal our ideas, but not our people. We were proud of that then!

Watching the Party Change Over Time

After university, I moved to Dubai, and my active involvement in the party faded. Many of the elders who mentored us are now retired, and some have even been killed by the regime. My contemporary, Hon. Basalirwa, is now JEEMA’s president and a Member of Parliament. It’s something to be proud of — watching someone you started with rise to become a powerful voice in opposition politics.

Kyagulanyi’s Accusations Enter the Scene

So, when the president of NUP (the leading opposition party), Hon. Robert Kyagulanyi, launched full-throttle accusations of dishonesty and secret dealings with the regime against Hon. Basalirwa, I didn’t immediately jump to defend him. People change, after all. But I wanted to see the evidence.

Kyagulanyi has a pattern of accusing high-profile politicians in his circle, almost as if to remind them that no matter how big they grow, he’s still the top cat—the kingmaker. And anyone who doesn’t bow risks being politically crushed. But Basalirwa isn’t from his party. Yes, they had cooperated before as opposition figures fighting the dictatorship, but this was different.

IPOD: The Controversial Meeting Table

One thing that may have triggered Kyagulanyi’s ridicule was Basalirwa’s involvement in the Inter-Party Organisation on Dialogue (IPOD), which Kyagulanyi rejected early on as a regime tool. And honestly, I agree with him—IPOD is a useless venture. It won’t deliver anything meaningful to Ugandans.

But I can’t fault Basalirwa for joining earlier. Think of IPOD like the United Nations: everyone knows it largely serves U.S. imperialism, but when it meets in New York, even Russia, China, and Iran—the so-called anti-U.S. bloc—show up. They know staying away costs more than being there.

Ironically, Hon. Kyagulanyi has since joined IPOD himself. Yet he hasn’t walked back the accusations he hurled at opposition colleagues like Hon. Basalirwa who joined before him. It’s like someone who once mocked a meal as poison, then sits down and eats it in silence.

A Warning to Hon. Basalirwa

Hon. Basalirwa, I won’t waste my breath defending you from Kyagulanyi’s accusations. But let me give you a little warning: if what he’s saying is true—that you’re cozying up to President Museveni—then you’re walking straight into the lion’s den with a blindfold on. Your party was built on integrity and standing up to a brutal dictatorship, not sliding under its sheets.

I don’t know how far your little romance with Museveni has gone. But here’s the thing: Museveni doesn’t use protections. If you’re still fully dressed, run now. If you’re already naked in his bed, grab your clothes and run faster. And if he’s already had his way with you, then it’s time to take your medicine—by which I mean resign and get out of the country. Because Museveni carries a political virus worse than HIV. At least HIV now has a treatment. Museveni’s virus has no cure, no treatment, no survivors. Get too close, and we’ll be writing your obituary before the ink on your new alliance dries.

Museveni is like that dangerously attractive woman everyone knows is HIV-positive, but you convince yourself you’ll be the exception. Hon. Basalirwa, you won’t. That thrill may last minutes, maybe hours if you’re lucky, but when it’s over, you’re left with consequences that stick for life. Just ask the many men who thought they were special—he used them, tossed them, and left them coughing in the political morgue.

A Message to NUP Supporters

And our friends in NUP—let’s talk. Your leader has turned character assassination into a full-time job. One by one, he’s pointing fingers at the very comrades who stood beside him in the early days of the struggle, accusing them of secretly working with the regime. And you’re all clapping like it’s a fireworks show.

But here’s a mirror. Hold it up. Is your leader still the same man he was five years ago? If you say yes, you’re not looking hard enough. The Kyagulanyi of 2019 and the Kyagulanyi of today would probably shoot each other on sight. It’s the same story we tell about Museveni—the freedom fighter of 1986 and the ruler of today are two completely different beasts.

Sure, your party still has the same red roof—Kyagulanyi himself—but look closer at the pillars holding it up. One by one, they’ve turned yellow. The color of the regime. Do you ever stop and ask who’s pulling the strings behind the quiet replacements? Who’s swapping out familiar faces for strangers in your party’s decision-making rooms?

Even loyal fighters like Allan Ssewanyana—who’s taken beatings in broad daylight for the cause—are now being shoved aside, branded as compromised. Soon, you’ll still have Kyagulanyi on top, but he’ll be surrounded by strangers. And when that happens, the regime won’t just control the government. They’ll control your opposition too. You’ll be outsiders in both worlds.

A Movement Under Attack From Within

This finger-pointing, this “you’re compromised, you’re bought off” routine—it’s classic. A neat little system revolutions use to eat their own children. You might call it housecleaning. I call it a sinister purge.

Comrades—and yes, I call you that because I know your hunger for change—listen closely. Your president has been cornered. The regime has isolated him from the strong, experienced politicians who once stood tall in the opposition. Now he’s surrounded by smooth-talking regime sympathizers disguised as allies. This isn’t just happening in Uganda; it’s happening in the diaspora too. Here in Boston, I’ve watched loyal supporters pushed out, replaced by unfamiliar faces. Some of the ousted even started their own tiny party, NUPUSA Inc.—a desperate act to keep the movement alive while the main house is being hollowed out.

The regime doesn’t need to destroy the opposition; Hon. Kyagulanyi is already doing the job for them. Your leader has become the opposition’s worst enemy, slowly strangling it with his own hands. Why would he want a weak movement to face a dictator? Because a weak opposition means easy victories for the regime’s candidates. Capable, articulate politicians like Semujju, Ssengona and Sewayannas are being sidelined in favor of weaker ones who can fold at the first regime agenda.

A Hollow Parliament, A Soft Landing for the First Son

In the coming elections, the regime wants a Parliament so hollow it can practically elect Museveni’s son Muhoozi in his sleep. A man who can’t rally a crowd will walk into power on a red carpet rolled out by a neutered opposition. And what roles remain for the foot soldiers? Screaming insults on social media at anyone who dares question their compromised leadership.

A Final Warning

I know this is long. People don’t like reading long posts these days. But if you’ve made it this far, remember this: your leadership has been compromised. Start treating the stories of your fallen comrades, the jailed, and the disappeared not as distant tragedies but as warnings. Protect yourselves. Watch your backs. Because betrayal, once it starts, doesn’t stop until the last loyal voice is silenced.

— Yasin Kakande

Author of The Missing Corpse