We were in disbelief. He didn’t stop at that, but also challenged voters they take to the streets themselves—mwebereremu—instead of sitting back on their bottoms and whining. Not in those words, but something like that.
As a citizen and one of Mpuuga’s voters, I am sending him an invitation card to the streets. Let’s begin with some reminders and clarifications:
Dear Hon Mpuuga, there are two lines of work politicians identifying as opposition that one can engage in and appear “opposition:”
(a) Normal/clinical opposition where they work within the existent status quo. Here, the opposition’s elected representatives play their oversight roles including holding the executive accountable, legislating, among others.
(b) Activism: this line of work seeks to change the status quo. Here, politicians involve themselves in constitutionally sanctioned acts of resistance and rebellion, including protests, disruption, demonstrating, heckling, and demanding—not simply negotiating—things to be done.
Clinical/normal opposition is useful only in fully established democracies. Indeed, in this case, it is even difficult to tell the difference between the people in government and those in the opposition since even when governments change, most of the policies upon which the country was being run remain unchanged. It is these types across western Europe and the United States of America. The differences in policies between labour and democrats, or republicans are extremely miniscule. Therefore, under an autocracy—as you and co. have endlessly reminded us Uganda is—it is pretentious and deceptive to claim to play oversight roles and legislate. It is short-changing voters.
On the other hand, activism, which you promised in all your slogans and symbolisms specifically “removing a dictator,” is remarkably risky and dangerous. But as you can imagine, it is why we voted your “faceless and nameless” comrades whose CVs and legislative eloquence are in clear doubt. It is why we dropped PhD holders and proven orators for ruffians and street-fighters.
You, also, with all your eloquence, had to package yourself as a fighter, donned in red hats and suits, so as to earn your victory. What then changed, Hon Mpuuga? Why all the English? Oh, you fear Museveni will kill many of us wretches? Brother Mpuuga, we are dead already—and are quietly but steadily dying every day. Over 14 million of us are walking zombies.
Look, Hon., the reasons we ask that you stand up in moments of crisis, exactly in fulfilment of your campaign promises—and not us standing up ourselves—are three: (a) we voted for you to do that for us after you offered yourselves, came begging and pleading, and we agreed (b) we actually pay you for this work. We did not simply agree, but also have offered to pay you to fight for us.
As the government newspaper reported recently, you [MPs] smuggled a humongous Shs 193 billion into next year’s budget as additional emolument. (c) Voting you into office earned you celebrity status, a pedestal upon which to act.
You ceased being ordinary folks like us the wananchi, which translates into power, and security. Your broken bones are more important than mine. Your arrest and detention cannot be the same as ours. This is why we demand that you use the clout we gave you, and all the big monies and perks to lead us. [Why are you happy to pride yourselves as more knowledgeable about everything than all of us simple folks, our big degrees notwithstanding? It is because of the pedestal we gave you]. Then, why develop cold feet at this critical time – and ask us to lead you?
Hon. Mpuuga, it is my sobering position that if all Uganda opposition MPs—under your leadership—took to the streets, and were all arrested, our government would be under pressure to take seriously the need to intervene on rising commodity prices. You have made Museveni’s government so comfortable with its nonsense that threats and insults have become their modus operandi. Because the MPs the wananchi voted are seated back after falling in things.
Finally, I am sure you have had the stories. Those in the corridors of parliament tell us that when Bobi Wine sang about the dream of “wearing the crown,” it was for some, and not all. In our gossip corners, your name is often mentioned as one of the men already wearing the crown.
That with several lead vehicles and over ten SFC bodyguards, you walk the parliament ground like a musician walking into a music video. Your swagger and demeanour changed. You behave like one who reached the crown.
Parliament security and ordinary MPs stand on the side as you pass. The speaker of parliament—dictator Museveni’s Anita Among—is reported to often call you directly, treating you like an ally, as you discuss the next deal. And for that, you are afraid of appearing to sabotage things. Indeed, while many of us have been slower to believe these stories, your present utterances have removed all doubt. But remember, Hon. Mpuuga, we might be poor and unprivileged, but not dumb.
yusufkajura@gmail.com
The author is a political theorist based at Makerere University.
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