Journalist Kasirya Ashraf Speaks Out

By Alexander Luyima | The Hoima Post
On November 18, 2020, in Luuka district, I came face to face with death. I was on duty as a journalist, camera in hand, simply recording what was happening. To the security forces on the ground, that alone was enough to make me a target. I survived, but many did not. More than one hundred Ugandans were shot dead within two days. They were not armed. They were not rioting. They were citizens reacting to the arrest of their presidential candidate, Bobi Wine. Over one thousand others were rounded up, beaten, and tortured.
The words of fellow journalist Kasirya Ashraf remain unforgettable. He described those days as life threatening, a simple phrase for a nightmare that was anything but simple. His experience reminds us of the many journalists who risk everything to keep the truth alive and the many Ugandans who never made it home.
The violence of November 2020 left a mark that has never healed. The arrest of Robert Kyagulanyi Ssentamu triggered peaceful demonstrations that were met with gunfire. Independent human rights groups confirmed that security forces fired live bullets into crowds of unarmed people. Most of those killed were young, shot at close range. Many others were pushed into unmarked vans and disappeared. They were tortured in unknown places, denied lawyers and family contact.
Human rights advocate Dr. Livingstone Ssewanyana has described these events as a calculated show of force. In his words, “The violence of November 2020 was meant to create fear. It was meant to warn Ugandans that demanding their rights comes with a heavy cost.” His team continues to document the abuses, but the psychological damage on the victims and their families will last for generations.
The pattern has continued. Abductions are now a familiar story in Uganda. People, mostly opposition supporters, are grabbed by plain-clothed operatives, thrown into vans, and vanish without explanation. When they reappear, they carry deep scars on their bodies and deeper ones in their
minds.
Maria Namyomo, whose son was abducted in 2021, speaks with pain that is hard to listen to. “They took my boy because of his political beliefs. When he came back, he was not himself. The state took more than his freedom. They took his spirit.” Her story mirrors the quiet suffering of many Ugandan families living in fear and silence.
As the 2026 elections draw nearer, the truth is clear. Uganda is headed into another cycle where opposition voices are blocked, arrested, or beaten. Rallies are stopped without reason. Journalists are attacked for doing their job. Ordinary citizens are threatened for simply asking questions.
Even so, the fight for a better Uganda continues. Journalists remain on the frontlines, documenting what others want hidden. Families of victims keep pushing for answers. Citizens refuse to let fear silence their hope.
Kasirya Ashraf said that giving up is not an option. He is right. The road to 2026 is tough, but it carries a promise that one day Uganda will rise above fear. One day, speaking out will not require bravery, it will simply be a right.
Until then, we keep telling the stories. We keep remembering the fallen. We keep demanding justice.
We shall overcome.

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