By Alexander Luyima | April 2025

BREAKING: Ugandans Demand Answers! Is Our Security in the Hands of One Family?

A viral image has set social media ablaze, exposing what many are calling a “family-run security command” ahead of Uganda’s 2026 elections. The picture—featuring President Museveni surrounded by top military and intelligence chiefs—has left citizens questioning: Is Uganda’s security now a private family affair?

UGANDA, WE NEED TO TALK!

Gen. Muhoozi Kainerugaba – President’s son & Chief of Defence Forces
Lt. Gen. Kayanja Muhanga – Close ally, key election security architect
Maj. Gen. Abel Kandiho – Longtime intelligence operative
And more…

The pattern is clear: Nearly all top security bosses hail from one region and are personally tied to the President.

WORRYING MESSAGE: The image boldly declares, “They will protect their vote, come 2026.”

What does this mean for free and fair elections?

WHAT UGANDANS ARE SAYING

We took to the streets and social media to hear from YOU! Here’s what’s boiling:

“This is a monarchy, not a democracy!” – @RealUgandan (Twitter)
“How can the army, police, and ISO all be controlled by one family? 2026 will be a coronation, not an election!”

“Where is the national representation?” – Sarah, Gulu
“I’m from the North. If all security chiefs are from one region, who will protect MY vote?”

“Why is Parliament silent?” – Concerned Citizen, Kampala
“Our MPs are sleeping! If security is biased, who will stop intimidation and rigging?”

“Muhoozi’s rise = Museveni’s plan” – Political Analyst
“From Twitter rants to CDF—this isn’t merit. It’s a dynasty in the making!”

“The West won’t save us!” – Activist, Jinja
“Foreigners cheer ‘stability,’ but Ugandans pay the price. We must wake up!”

DEMOCRACY OR DYNASTY?

President Museveni has ruled since 1986. Now, with his son controlling the military, critics ask:

Is power being handed over, not voted for?
Can security forces be neutral if they’re loyal to one family?
Will 2026 be a contest—or a foregone conclusion?

YOUR VOICE MATTERS!

We’re turning this into a NATIONAL DEBATE!

COMMENT BELOW: Do you trust Uganda’s security to oversee a free and fair election?
TWEET US: Who should lead security—family members or professionals from ALL regions?
SHARE THIS ARTICLE: Break the silence! Tag #UgandaSecurityCrisis

THIS IS UGANDA’S FUTURE. SPEAK UP BEFORE IT’S TOO LATE!

NEXT: Will Parliament Finally Act, or Will Ugandans Take Matters Into Their Own Hands?

STAY TUNED. STAY ANGRY. DEMAND CHANGE.

By Alexander Luyima | April 2025

> “When you send your sons to fight a war that isn’t yours, make sure you know what you’re bringing back home — bullets or burdens.”
— Dr. Sarah Tumwine, Political Analyst, Makerere University

In 2007, Uganda proudly led the African Union’s boots-on-the-ground mission in Somalia (AMISOM), later rebranded as ATMIS. It was a moment of continental leadership — a beacon of African-to-African solidarity against terrorism and civil collapse.

Today, nearly two decades later, Ugandan troops are still deployed, despite shifting mandates, unmet objectives, and rising costs. The original goal — peace in Somalia — remains frustratingly out of reach. Meanwhile, the United States’ latest foreign aid cuts, spearheaded by the Trump administration, have exposed just how fragile, and perhaps disingenuous, this mission truly is.

A House of Cards Held Up by Foreign Dollars

Uganda’s involvement in Somalia has long been subsidized by foreign aid and military reimbursements — primarily from the U.S., EU, and the United Nations. These funds have kept soldiers paid, equipment rolling, and Kampala in good standing with the West.

But with U.S. aid now being slashed by hundreds of millions, the illusion of sustainability is crumbling.

> “It was never about Somalia. It was about maintaining leverage with Washington,” says Joseph Okello, a former UPDF logistics officer turned whistleblower. “When the aid dries up, so does the justification.”

Peacekeeping or a Convenient Excuse?

In recent years, the UPDF’s stay in Somalia has attracted scrutiny — and not just from watchdogs abroad.

Civilian casualties and allegations of resource looting have surfaced in Somali media.

UN reports hint at mission overreach, lack of transparency, and unclear strategic direction.

AMISOM’s transition to ATMIS in 2022 was supposed to signal a gradual exit. Yet here we are in 2025, with no clear end in sight.

> “We are not peacekeepers anymore. We are occupying a battlefield that benefits foreign contracts and political survival back home,” says Dr. James Mugabi, a security researcher at the Centre for African Policy Studies.

The Real Cost: Ugandans at Home Are Paying the Price

As Uganda stretches its military muscles abroad, its domestic core is buckling.

Teachers strike for unpaid salaries.

Hospitals run out of basic drugs.

Thousands of youth languish unemployed, while the state funds military operations far from home.

Ironically, the burden of survival is now shifting to the Ugandan diaspora, whose remittances have overtaken aid flows in some sectors.

> “Diaspora dollars are now doing what foreign aid used to do — feeding families, paying school fees, and starting small businesses,” says Lydia Nantume, a diaspora coordinator based in Toronto.

A Shift in Global Strategy, and Uganda Left Exposed

The U.S. under Trump has made clear: “America First” means Africa comes last — especially nations that rely on aid but fail to deliver measurable outcomes.

Countries like Uganda, once considered strategic partners, are now left to recalculate their foreign policy posture, and even their domestic military doctrine.

Without U.S. dollars:

Peacekeeping allowances will disappear.

The AU may withdraw logistical support.

Regional missions could collapse or fall into chaos.

The Questions We Must Ask Ourselves Now

Is it worth keeping our sons and daughters deployed in a war we are neither winning nor owning?

Are we still peacekeepers, or have we become pawns in global chess games?

What would Uganda’s economy and social systems look like if the same level of commitment was made to youth employment, clean water, and health?

Conclusion: Bring the Focus Home

Uganda no longer has the luxury of distraction. The war we must now fight is internal — against poverty, corruption, and broken priorities. The “glory” of peacekeeping has been replaced by the burden of unsustainable ambitions and empty foreign promises.

> “Uganda cannot build Somalia while Uganda bleeds,” says Doreen K, diaspora human rights advocate and organizer in Ontario. “It’s time to bring our troops home, and bring our focus home.”

The peace Uganda needs most isn’t in Mogadishu. It’s in Mbale, Gulu, Arua, and Kamwokya.

Let’s reclaim it — soldier by soldier, policy by policy.

About the Author:
Alexander Luyima is a diaspora-based journalist, community mobilizer, and Director of Community Programs for African Descent Ontario (ADSON). He writes regularly on diaspora policy, migration, and African geopolitics.

By Wabusimba Amiri.

In the shadows of the recent U.S. foreign policy realignment under President Donald Trump’s directive on Diversity, Equity, Inclusion, and Accessibility (DEIA), Uganda stands at a volatile crossroads economically bruised, socially destabilized, and politically silent. The world is watching, but inside Uganda, there’s a deafening quiet. Parliament is yet to debate the abrupt aid suspension that has paralyzed key service sectors and endangered millions of lives.

The United States has, for decades, been Uganda’s largest bilateral donor, injecting an average of $1.2 billion annually into health, agriculture, governance, and humanitarian sectors. But a rapid 45-day audit triggered by the DEIA directive originally projected to take 90 days resulted in a near-immediate aid freeze. The aftermath has been cataclysmic: approximately 70% of U.S. aid has was suspended, slashing financial support to a mere $360 million, leaving a deficit of $840 million that Uganda is ill-equipped to fill. At the heart of this crisis lies the chronic dependency of Uganda’s public systems on foreign generosity. The freeze is not simply a political gesture from Washington; it is a mirror exposing Uganda’s systemic failure to prepare for the eventuality of aid withdrawal.

Uganda’s fragile health system is bleeding with over 1.4 million Ugandans live with HIV, the majority of whom rely on U.S.-funded antiretroviral therapy (ART) and 350,000 plus patients are now at risk of treatment interruption, the specter of a backslide into uncontrolled HIV transmission looms large. According to Uganda’s National AIDS Control Program, the consequences could erase two decades of gains in HIV management. Equally dire is the status of tuberculosis (TB) patients, Uganda records over 30 TB-related deaths daily. The funding shortfall has already stalled drug procurement cycles and outreach services. Health workers supported by U.S. aid many of whom formed over 90% of staff in critical treatment and prevention programs have either been laid off or are operating without salaries.

Uganda’s vibrant civil society, often hailed as the lifeblood of service delivery in underserved areas, is hemorrhaging. The NGO sector, which employs nearly 20% of Uganda’s workforce, has been hit by mass layoffs, life office closures, and suspended field activities. Organizations working on gender equality, lifesaving support, youth empowerment, climate resilience, and maternal health have gone silent. With every shuttered NGO office, hundreds of vulnerable Ugandans lose access to food, shelter, psychosocial support, health or education. Moreover, the aid freeze has deepened Uganda’s unemployment crisis, already pegged at 9.6%, with youth unemployment far higher. The ripple effect is spilling over into household economies and local markets, threatening social cohesion.

What’s most alarming is not just the abruptness of the aid cut but the eerie silence that followed. Uganda’s Parliament has neither debated nor acknowledged the implications of the suspension. Ministers remain tight-lipped, Community representatives, many from districts hardest hit by the loss of health and food programs, have offered no statements or policy alternatives. Civil society actors decry the vacuum of political accountability as a betrayal of public trust. The DEIA policy itself aims to ensure equity in U.S. aid distribution globally, a noble cause. But its rollout lacked diplomatic foresight. There was no grace period, no structured transition plan, and most critically no clear guidance during the waiver window which briefly exempted life-saving interventions. This ambiguity left program managers unsure whether to pause, wind down, or continue life-saving services.

Uganda is not alone in its aid dependency, many sub-Saharan African states have grown tethered to donor capital. But Uganda’s case is especially stark. Aid finances over 48% of the national health budget and subsidizes 60% of HIV-related care. The current suspension is a textbook case of how foreign policy shifts however well-intentioned can destabilize entire nations when local resilience is absent. The bigger question emerging from this debacle is one of sovereignty. Can Uganda truly claim self-determination when its health, employment, and education systems are so vulnerable to a single donor’s internal political recalibration?

Uganda must treat this crisis not as a lament, but as a signal to course-correct. While U.S. aid has been instrumental in supporting progress, the lack of exit strategies, sustainability frameworks, and robust domestic investment has rendered much of that support a temporary fix rather than a long-term solution. What Uganda needs now is more than financial aid it needs structural reform:

• A serious national conversation on development independence;
• Investment in domestic resource mobilization and taxation systems;
• Stronger public-private partnerships to fill service gaps;
• Diversification of donor support to avoid overreliance on a single country;
• And above all, political will to legislate and operationalize resilience.

The aid suspension has painfully demonstrated that foreign assistance no matter how generous cannot substitute for sound governance. Uganda’s policymakers must urgently engage the international community, not only to renegotiate humanitarian carve-outs, but also to present a credible, sustainable roadmap for resilience and reform. Uganda’s future cannot be mortgaged to fluctuating foreign agendas.

The current crisis is not just about aid; it is about agency. The country must transition from a model of dependency to one of dignity where its systems are strong, its people are protected, and its destiny is not determined thousands of miles away in Washington. The world owes Uganda understanding and transitional support but Uganda owes itself the courage to evolve. The next step must be inward, building a self-reliant nation not at the mercy of policy memos, but empowered by its own vision for sustainable development.

Wabusimba Amiri is a diplomatic Scholar, Journalist, political analyst and Human Right activist. Tel: +56775103895 email: Wabusimbaa@gmail.com