You cannot play with the animal in you without becoming wholly animal, play with falsehood without forfeiting your right to truth, play with cruelty without losing your sensitivity of mind. He who wants to keep his garden tidy doesn’t reserve a plot for weeds — Dag Hammarskjold

It is sad that our Parliament has degenerated into a national disaster. One cannot resist the temptation to bang a table for our MPs — the voting machines. These people need to be reminded why they are in Parliament. That, Parliament is not all about filling seats whenever there is voting on a contentious issue, and then instinctively trooping to the Canteen to waste time in endless gossip.

The politics in the proposed oil law — The Petroleum (Exploration, Development and Production) Bill, 2012 - has exposed the Parliament we have today to the extent that the people we send to conduct business on our behalf no longer care whether they are naked or not.

In this spectacle, the most unfortunate part is that the Speaker, Ms Rebecca Kadaga, and her Deputy Jacob Oulanyah, who should have protected the independence and integrity of the House, appear to be stuck. This prompts us to think through the idea of having a free Speaker in real sense — the one who does not have apologies to make. That Speaker would serve one master — the public interest.

Since we have a Speaker who is required to serve two masters at the same time, Parliament finds itself in a funny situation. The doctrine of separation of powers as contained in the 1995 Constitution is just on paper. This is unfortunate. We have a President who is too powerful to the extent that he can order the Speaker to overturn the unfriendly decisions Parliament makes. It doesn’t matter whether such decisions are in public interest or not, what matters is that the ruling party has the numbers to do anything, including defeating reason.

For fear that the Energy minister might abuse the powers; Parliament chaired by Mr Oulanyah decided to vest these powers in the Petroleum Authority. The understanding was that by giving these powers to the minister as is the case for cursed oil producing nations like Nigeria, Angola, Sudan and Congo, among others, would plunge Uganda into confusion and deepen corruption.

This decision was reached when the President was out of the country. When he returned from Sri Lanka, he asked Cabinet and NRM MPs to revisit Clause 9. At first, NRM MPs rejected this idea and hence the chaos in |Parliament. On Thursday, the President met them and, as usual, they changed their position. The unsubstantiated claim is that by giving the powers to the authority, Parliament was trying to legislate the President out of the oil sector. However, under the Constitution, the President has the discretion to remain the minister for oil.

As the saying goes, it would be funny if it wasn’t so tragic. Until Parliament votes in accordance with the wishes of their constituents it is nothing more than a rubber stamp for the policies of those in power. This explains why in the handling of the proposed oil law, our parliamentarians, particularly those from the ruling party, the voting machines behaved like unwanted, bloated self-serving hypocrites, inept to see beyond their own dim views of life.

The mendacity of NRM MPs is not peculiar. The problem here is that this kind of bahaviour has made the institution of Parliament a hopeless entity. This is why it’s no longer an issue for a committee chairperson to come on the floor of the House without any report. This kind of naughtiness in the House started with the Budget Committee chairperson, Mr Tim Lwanga, and then Mr Michael Werikhe of Natural Resources Committee. First, Mr Werikhe complained to Speaker Kadaga that his committee was not privy to the negotiated position on the proposed Clause 9 that seeks to give ministers full powers in the oil sector.

The context to Mr Werikhe’s antics is that after Bugweri MP Abdul Katuntu and other members met Energy Minister Irene Muloni, they agreed to have a win-win settlement to the deadlock. They had agreed that the minister would negotiate with companies in liaison with the authority; endorse deals with Cabinet approval and revoke licences on the recommendation of the authority. But because the minister had not consulted the President, these good proposals were rejected.

I am told Ms Muloni was seriously attacked in Cabinet and forced to apologise in the NRM Caucus. Ms Kadaga who had handled the matter was absent. Mr Oulanyah came in to steer the boat. The government used its numerical strength in the House to close all the avenues for compromise and gave minister full power to grant, negotiate and revoke licences. By Friday, a final decision had not been made, but the NRM Caucus had pronounced itself on the matter.

I have pointed out in this column before that the proposed law was left in the hands of “chameleons” and “voting machines”. This is why the government side on Thursday rejected any form of compromise on Clause 9. For accepting to give the minister full powers in the oil law, the 9th Parliament will be condemned in future if Uganda turns into one of the cursed oil nations.

The Global Witness, a UK-based non-governmental organisation which investigates the role of natural resources in funding conflict and corruption around the world, says in its January 2012 report titled: “The scramble for Africa’s Oil, Gas and Minerals” that governments are not making clear the rationale for choosing particular companies in the bidding process and, in certain cases, they appear to allow companies special or preferential access to oil licences, leading to doubts about the integrity of the process.

That corrupt governments are awarding oil licences to companies whose beneficial owners remain undisclosed. In certain cases, there are grounds for suspicion that some of the companies may be owned or controlled by government officials or their private-sector proxies. Countries that are rich in petroleum have less democracy, less economic stability, and more frequent civil wars than countries without oil. This is why, in the proposed oil law, we must get it right.

It should be noted that the allocation of oil or mining rights to companies by governments around the world is often at risk of being compromised by serious corruption, which brings with it a chain of consequences from entrenched poverty and development failures to political instability and armed conflict. Therefore, in pushing through what the President wants, we can afford to defeat justice on technicalities, but let’s not forget that the oil curse is real and once it flinches it’s unstoppable.

ymugerwa@ug.nationmedia.com

Transparency. Corrupt regimes are awarding oil licences to companies whose substantive owners remain undisclosed. In certain cases, there are grounds for suspicion that some of the companies may be owned or controlled by government officials or their private-sector proxies.

When you sit in the House of Commons — the mother of parliamentary democracy, one thing catches your eye: The patriotism from both sides of the House. Even when there is a disagreement, a political fight is a little more than a mildly-worded argument - but in China, it’s always more akin to a brawling contest.

In the Upper House of the Indian Parliament, this kind of misbehaviour is not peculiar.

In September, members ripped microphones and almost punched their speaker after the government attempted to push through a contentious Bill that seeks to reserve 33 per cent of legislative seats for women.

Animated scenes swamped the house as members opposing the Bill tore up the document and hurled the shreds at the Speaker in full view of the nation.

In Taiwan, a politician tried to eat the draft of new law to stop a vote on it, while in June 2007, the leader of the ruling party was slapped in the face by an opposition party member who took exception to her address.

These are some of the sad tales from confused parliaments. Unfortunately, our Parliament, on Tuesday, nearly booked a place among such nonsensical institutions.

While the naughtiness of our legislators has not yet deteriorated to the level of the madness in India and Taiwan, the image of our Parliament took another beating when legislators from both sides nearly exchanged punches over Clause 9 of The Petroleum (Exploration, Development and Production) Bill, 2012.

Under this clause, the minister wants unlimited powers to grant and revoke licences, negotiate and endorse petroleum agreements. This is what is provided for in the 1985 Petroleum Act of Milton Obote.

But for fear that by giving such powers to the minister, the country would be risking too much, both sides of the House agreed that such powers be clipped in public interest.

This angered the President, who controls the majority in the House and he thus asked his “troops” to go back to Parliament and summersault on what had already been decided.

In the process of pushing through “the government interests” and protecting the integrity of the House, Speaker Rebecca Kadaga found herself trapped between a rock and hard place. The upshot is the crisis we had seen.
It was not by accident that the members behaved in a rogue manner. We have seen the writing on the wall and the assumption was that a terrible misfortune was about to happen in the House.

But this jungle behaviour of our members should be clearly understood from the governance angle.

What we saw in Parliament on Tuesday was a remonstration against “presidentialism”, a creeping disease that is eating into the fabric that once held our institutions intact. This is why things in Parliament are falling apart. Our Parliament is no longer independent and the “impartiality” of the Speaker is under attack.

In an attempt to distinguish between government and opposition members in making decisions, people have lit fires they cannot extinguish.

This is very dangerous.
While Ms Kadaga’s hands were politically tied, she failed to grasp the politics in the government motion that sought to tinker with what members had decided in presence of the official opposition in the House.

More transparency is needed in the oil, gas and mining industries to prevent the international scramble for Africa’s natural resources from fuelling deeper corruption and instability - Global Witness.

I have said here before that our Parliament has become a joke. It’s a place where people say something today and, within minutes, eat their words as if they have got amnesia. They make serious decisions and reverse them the following day. This is why the Executive no longer takes them seriously. In any case, they are spineless and they know it. Its very fabric has been examined and found wanting.

The truly awful situation is - even after our outrage - they are carrying on as normal. It is a joke because it is not a true Parliament. It’s a House full of chameleons. The 9th Parliament is a noble frame jam-packed with submissive individuals there to push through political expedience, while at the same time placating Ugandans that they are doing something about corruption.

They are, in some respects, comedians, more of the flavour of a sick system in our warped politics of numbers with a scrawny opposition swimming in murky waters. When you critically study the conduct of our MPs, particularly in times of challenge and controversy, you should be able to appreciate the creeping sense of repugnance. These matters were brought to the Speaker’s attention by Kawempe North MP Latif Ssebaggala when he asked her whether she is really in charge.

After spending a lot of time haggling over the amendments in the proposed Oil law, they reached a consensus that the minister’s powers to grant and revoke licences, negotiate and endorse petroleum agreements after the authority has taken a position as stated in Clause 9 of The Petroleum (Exploration, Development and Production) Bill, 2012, be scrapped in public interest. The motive was to protect the independence of the Petroleum Authority and ensure transparency.

On Thursday, the ruling party called a Caucus meeting where they agreed to over-turn their position. In the afternoon, they came to a House without the FDC members and persuaded Speaker Rebecca Kadaga to proceed amid protests from independent-minded legislators. The FDC members were in Namboole voting their new party president. By proceeding without FDC in the House Ms Kadaga ignored the bigger picture — the national interest in the Bill. She should have used her discretion as a Speaker to postpone the debate instead of bowing to the vagaries of people who behaved like a hired mob.

Mr Theodore Ssekikubo, the Chairperson of the Parliamentary Forum on oil and gas, and other members who worked so hard to ensure that Uganda gets a good law were let down by the mob. They sat for long hours under the guidance of deputy Speaker Jacob Oulanya and went through amendments clause by clause, fixing loopholes as well as making concessions in some cases. In the end, a decision was reached that the minister’s powers be limited to policy. But people who have never even read the Bill — the chameleons — joined ministers who were absent all the time to re-open a matter that had been closed in public interest.

In a system where corruption is pervasive, it becomes risky for any serious Parliament to grant infinite powers to a minister. This is why one of the corrupt and cursed oil producing nations wants the minister out of oil deals. Just last week, Nigeria’s lower house began debating its long-delayed Petroleum Industry Bill, but the event was marked with bottomless anger from the lawmakers who have rejected the government plan to grant sweeping powers to the oil minister.

This new piece of legislation in Nigeria is intended to transform the oil sector in this Africa’s largest crude producer after decades of mismanagement, conflicts and endemic corruption. In trying to do something about the curse, the new Bill provides for a community fund (10 per cent of oil revenue) to people living in the oil producing Niger Delta.

The contention in the Bill is a ludicrous section that gives oil minister Diezani Alison-Madueke wide-ranging supervision over all aspects of the industry, including the regulator. In Uganda, Energy Minister Irene Muloni, with the backing of the government hiding behind oil as a strategic resource, is hankering after even more robust and tempting powers in the proposed Oil law. The minister wants powers to license, grant and revoke licences, and to approve data - a move that would inevitably undermine the autonomy and the relevance of the Petroleum Authority.

In trying to appreciate why ministers should not be given vast powers in the Bill, let’s look at what’s happening in Africa’s oil producing nations. Because of boundless powers, Nigeria and Angola, Africa’s biggest oil producers, have granted very lucrative stakes in oil fields to companies that may be acting as fronts for government officials, stifling development in both countries. The powers we want to give the ministers in the proposed oil law will not only choke them but will certainly lead politicians into the temptations.

While increased oil output has generated billions of dollars for Angola and Nigeria, the misappropriation of public funds by corrupt officials remains one of the main causes of poverty in those countries.

Looking at history
Whether the government is giving the minister powers for political expedience or otherwise, we should not forget that African countries with mineral resources have for long been held back from prosperity by a baleful history of collusion between corrupt and incompetent rulers.

In these countries, too often private ‘shell’ companies with opaque ownership structures are awarded lucrative concessions, with little information available about the owners of the company. I am not a prophet of doom but am afraid if our Parliament defies the wise counsel and grants enormous powers to the minister; we are going to open flood gates of corruption in the oil sector.

It’s my humble prayer that when this Bill returns to the House on Tuesday, we forget the politics and think for the nation. We must not give the minister powers because we want to mollify the government of the day. It will be dangerous. The minister’s powers should be limited to policies aimed at promoting and sustaining transparency in the sector.

ymugerwa@ug.nationmedia.com

The grand scandal. Fraud, outright theft of public funds and corruption have become permanent features in the Auditor General’s reports. Parliament should wake up and cleanse the system before it is too late.

Forget the thugs in the “Pirates of the Caribbean”; the Office of the Prime Minister and other public offices are fast turning into safe hunting grounds for tricksters. It all started with a special audit, which found substantial evidence, detailing how foreign aid from Ireland, Norway, Sweden and Denmark was fiddled in a sophisticated scam that resulted in the theft of at least Shs50 billion. This was money meant for the poor people of northern Uganda and Karamoja, who are facing traumatic conditions.

A few years ago, a gang of crooked government officials decided to swindle millions of dollars from the Global Fund meant to buy life-saving drugs for people living with HIV/Aids and Tuberculosis. Part of this money was supposed to combat malaria, which kills 320 people every day in Uganda.

Similarly, they also pocketed the foreign aid meant for immunisation of children against the six killer diseases. In the process, millions of children must have died but somehow, for these tricksters life goes on.

With that money, the new breed of tricksters may have built mansions and financed luxurious shopping trips for their families in eminent places.

To date, this money has not been recovered. But in some way the Ministry of Health was ordered by the Cabinet to use taxpayers’ money to refund the stolen Gavi cash. How about the infamous 2007 Chogm spectacle where over Shs500 billion was lost and not a soul was asked to refund a shilling? At the highlight of this lugubrious event in Kampala, the tricksters planted grass and flowers for the Commonwealth summit and later claimed they were eaten by goats and cattle.

Unsurprisingly, Parliament did nothing. Having said that, the Parliament’s investigation into the apparent theft at the Office of the Prime Minister kicked off on Tuesday with officials from the Treasury — the custodians of public funds but were part of the scam. Officials from the Bank of Uganda will be followed by their colleagues at the epicentre of the scam in the coming week.

But when you sit in the Public Accounts Committee, which is investigating the grand theft at the OPM and you hear the bizarre tales from people entrusted with safeguarding public funds, you realise how crafty we have become as a nation.

The investigation into theft of millions of dollars in foreign aid meant for the Peace, Recovery and Development Plan for northern Uganda and Karamoja started in earnest and continues to unearth scandal after scandal.

On Day 1, the PAC heard that a former Principal Internal Auditor in the OPM, Mr Shaban Wejula, who had discovered the scam involving a racket of light-fingered officials from Treasury, OPM and Bank of Uganda, was “politically” transferred back to the Ministry of Finance on concocted grounds that he was a fault-finder and an incompetent officer.

On Day 2, the deputy Secretary to the Treasury, Mr Keith Muhakanizi, told the PAC that Mr Pius Bigirimana, the man in the middle of the storm, had told him that Mr Wejula was asking bribes from him and that former Premier, Apolo Nsibambi, also called him on the same day, saying that some people were “disturbing” the Permanent Secretary. It’s rather sad that this man was removed because he had found faults at the OPM.

The Secretary to the Treasury, Mr Chris Kassami, told PAC that at the pinnacle of this drama and the pressure exerted on this man, he even wanted to quit the profession. The popular view is that if Mr Bigirimana had not asked Mr Wejula to leave, the scam at the OPM wouldn’t have taken place. It was also strange that Mr Muhakanizi hurried to conclude that this Principal Internal Auditor was incompetent without following the rules of natural justice — giving him the opportunity to be heard.

By all standards, the inferences in the Auditor General’s report on the OPM scam are disturbing. For instance, the auditors found evidence of fraudulent transfer of more than Shs20.1 billion meant for PRDP from the Budget support accounts to a secret account in Bank of Uganda: The Crisis Management Project where the tricksters illegally utilised funds without approved work plans and authority.

On diversion of funds, an additional Shs18.1 billion meant for PRDP activities was funneled to the National Policy Disaster Management without any authority. The most interesting part is that the donors were contacted and denied agreeing to fund this policy. This expenditure line was smuggled into the project for people to swindle public funds. Another Shs16.2 billion was fraudulently paid by a trickster at the OPM to staff, secret accounts, private companies, Centenary Bank and district accounts using a password that was fraudulently obtained from another trickster a the Treasury.

Payments amounting to Shs13.4 billion from OPM accounts had forged signatures of a PS who has cut an image for himself as a “whistle-blower”. The responsible officers both in BOU and OPM should be held accountable. Most importantly, whoever took this money must pay back.

More than meets the eye
That was not all, Mr Kassami said, what happened at the OPM was “unprecedented theft” and that as country we have a big problem because everybody is capable of stealing. Mr Kassami told the MPs that the level of connivance to steal public funds had hit the roof. That our system was never made to foresee the kind of fraud, where tricksters disguised as candid public servants can sit and plan how to beat the system.

In this peculiar fight between the Prime Minister and the Leader of Opposition, each bout is met with a barrage of cheers from one side and heckles from the other, with hand gestures, smirks and theatrical expressions adding spice to the spectacle.

If you follow the nerve of British politics, the word PMQs must be familiar. PMQs stands for Prime Ministers Questions, though the official title is Questions to the Prime Minister. PMQs forms a major part of British political culture and, it is among the most watched parliamentary episodes in the country, with tickets to the Strangers’ Gallery being the most sought-after tickets. It’s famous and to some people, hilarious.

Though some voters hate PMQs, friends who have reported politics in the House of Commons for years told me that Prime Ministers fear it, Leaders of Opposition and journalists as well as the sketch writers enjoy this theatrical session. Perhaps the most entertaining and sparkling scrap of the week in the House of Commons is PMQs.

Every Wednesday at noon, the Prime Minister faces a 30-minute grilling from other members of Parliament; with the role of chief cross-examiner falling to the Leader of the Opposition. This is the time when Parliament comes to life. For most of the questions, the Prime Minister is under pressure to show the British people that he knows what is going on in government since most of the responses are given off-the-cuff.

From the vantage point of the Press Gallery, I realised that each PMQs begins with a procedural question, asking the Prime Minister to list his engagements for the day. The Prime Minister usually gives a standard answer, but may also take this opportunity to offer congratulations or condolences on any recent significant events. The member who asked the procedural question is then allowed to ask a supplementary question if they wish, which can be on any subject.

After the initial question, the floor is given to the Leader of the Opposition, who is allowed to ask the Prime Minister six questions. This part of PMQs is the most eagerly anticipated and has the greatest depth. Following on from this, the leader of the next largest party in the House is allowed to ask two questions. When the Prime Minister is away on official business or ill, the Deputy Prime Minister and the Deputy Leader of Opposition take their place. In all this drama, the Speaker’s neutrality is observed.

50th anniversary
In October last year, PMQs, in its current form, made 50 years. In Uganda, Rule 34 of the Parliament’s Rules of Procedure provides this kind of arrangement, but had remained on paper until recently when Speaker Rebecca Kadaga ordered the Clerk to Parliament to draft guidelines for PMQs. The good news is that unlike the House of Commons, our rules provide for 45 minutes of drama. So, in the coming few weeks, if all goes on plan, we are likely to see a clash of political gladiators — the first ever issue-based exchange between Prime Minister Amama Mbabazi and the Leader of Opposition, Mr Nandala Mafabi. I can’t wait to see the winner.

Having spent three months in the House of Commons, reporting news and observing how mature politicians conduct themselves, I realised that many British people view PMQs as something of an embarrassing drama. That their representatives yell at one another every week like schoolchildren is bad enough. The politics of who beats who at the dispatch box and the gladiatorial shouting match in support of their leaders is what some voters so dislike.

But for others, the cheering for a good retort is what makes PMQs interesting. My prayer is that as our Parliament joins the elite, we should be mindful of the cheap politics. The objective of PMQs is for the opposition to hold the Prime Minister to account on the big issues of the day.

However, as we implement PMQs we need to understand that the ultimate success or failure of a Prime Minister or Leader of the Opposition is not decided at PMQs. But it is true that the PMQs verdict as captured in national newspapers speaks volumes on how a leader is perceived. This explains why the Prime Minister and the Leader of Opposition must impress the public in order to win the wager. This is serious stuff and there is no time for the Prime Minister to beg for more time to consult on a particular issue. Written answers can be provided for specific questions but the spectators normally view this as a sign of obliviousness.

Certainly, leaders who enjoy the confidence of their backbenchers are usually very competent at the dispatch box. Watching your leader whether opposition or government get beaten by their opponent every week is hugely dispiriting. For some reasons, people may obliviously think that the drama we are going to see every Wednesday in Parliament will be ending on the floor, which is not the case. These impressions filter down into the media and people’s consciousness.

Shaping opinion
Although most people, particularly those in the countryside, might not get the opportunity to watch PMQs for obvious reason like lack of electricity, this political contest shapes their opinions and promotes accountability in government.

In the House of Commons, they also have Ministers Questions (MQs). Each sector is allocated a schedule for backbenchers to ask questions. How I wish, our Parliament could also adopt this system to help us deal with sleepy ministers. While there is no proof that MQs can transform fatigued ministers into angels, it is true that such a system emboldens the culture of accountability and discipline.

In a warped system, the underlying problem seems to be that the system of political reward — the allocation of ministerial roles — is not related to the actual requirements of government. Appointment to ministerial office is used for other purposes, such as political loyalty. This is why some do not care.

ymugerwa@ug.nationmedia.com