Rush around, do talk shows, praise Museveni. You are a great worker

One may ask, when people say that President Museveni has killed institutions, do they mean that these institutions are now closed?
No. There are living people in there, often very nicely dressed. And some things actually get done.

By and by, the relevant officials to attend to you will be identified. By and by, the document you want will be processed. Magistrates will appear and hear cases. Covid-19 lockdowns aside, schools operate and produce graduates.
Many patients are admitted to government hospitals and most do not die. Government accountants report at their stations and salaries get paid. 

The army will replace regular construction companies and laugh to the bank. We have more ministers and anti-corruption agencies than ever. Parliament is a humongous 529 members. Yet we say that our institutions are dead.
There is something almost mythical about the mechanics of an institution that works properly.

Institutions are peopled, but they are also abstract and impersonal. When their activity is expressed in smooth linked movements from one item of duty to another, following specified rules, they quietly deliver goods and services to the citizens. No fuss. No emotions.

 Workers in institutional chains – not just the bosses – must be properly rewarded to meet their essential needs. Otherwise we have no right to expect them to concentrate on their duty.
Any directive “from above” that diverts the institution from the standard course and speed of action disrupts the smooth operation of the institution. 

Repeated disruptions ‘teach’ the workers that standard practice is not important, and violations can be rewarding. The ‘favours’ the powerful get by clout, other citizens can get by bribing.  Inefficiency becomes a profitable strategy. Competence falls in value. Loyal cadres and secretive opportunists prosper, instead of pillars of discipline.

Against this backdrop of Uganda’s damaged institutions, some officials earn the reputation that they are ‘bakozi’ (hard workers). But close scrutiny often reveals no evidence to support that reputation.

There was a minister of State for Lands who thrived on picking telephone calls, talking to and handling some individual complaints, appearing at radio and TV talk shows to talk about land, and of course to praise the President. But the new Lands ministers claim that the chaos and corruption they uncovered in the ministry was on an industrial scale. 

Take RDC Fred Bamwine; a reputed work horse. What does he do? Ridicule, harass the Opposition. Sing “Omusiri gwe mmere: Grow food. Eat some; sell the rest”.

Even if President Museveni did Ugandans a great favour by despatching Bamwine to Kenya’s Turkana region or to Eastern Congo as a non-resident ex-district commissioner, Bamwine would still defy fate and wriggle into Kampala’s radio stations to sing “Omusiri gwe mmere”, and praises to the President.

Anti-corruption warrior Edith Nakalema and Prime Minister Robinah Nabbanja, the ‘mother’ of Museveni’s ‘fishermen’, run around haphazardly to the trouble spots they can reach as individuals. Big exhibitions, and sounding really concerned. They are symptoms of failed institutions, and it is a matter of time before the two ladies get exhausted.

The current bail or no bail tug-of-war is a symptom of failed institutions and a failed democracy. If you cannot catch the true criminals, and you cannot stop the Opposition, at least look busy. Lock up some people for a while. They may begin to look like the wanted pigs.
High visibility; running around; talking a lot; and in all cases defending Museveni; that is how to be a hard worker in a field of failed institutions.

Mr Tacca is a novelist, socio-political commentator.
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