Author: Crispin Kaheru. PHOTO/FILE
It begins with a rumour. Then a WhatsApp post. A new nickname. Suddenly, the village comedian is an “aspiring MP.” The town butcher wants to be LC3 chairperson. The boda stage chairman is printing campaign posters.
The 2026 election fever is here—and it’s spreading faster than a TikTok trend. But let’s face it: most people aren’t running for office because they want to serve. Not because the people are demanding them. Not because they’ve written manifestos or studied budgets.
They’re running because, in Uganda, politics pays way better than honest work. Full stop. We made a dangerous structural mistake. We moved too much money out of the economy—and poured it into politics. Today, a Member of Parliament earns over 35 million shillings a month in salary and perks. Add allowances, vehicles, travel, and per diems.
Meanwhile, a qualified engineer in the private sector is lucky to take home 8 million. A doctor in a public hospital may earn 5 million—after ten years of saving lives. Uganda now has about 3.4 million elected leaders out of 48 million people. That’s roughly one elected leader for every 14 citizens. And as we approach the 2026 elections, the list is growing.
Everyone wants a seat. Radio shows are full of campaign rhetoric. Social media is plastered with nice posters funded by savings, loans—and sometimes, school fees. Why? Because we’ve made political office the gateway to wealth. The only elevator that’s not out of service.
Meanwhile, our real economy—where wealth should be generated—is gasping for air. The young man running a welding shop and employing five youth pays taxes, rent, and bills. But no one calls him “honourable.”
The woman making crafts and exporting them struggles to get credit. But she’s not invited to workshops. No media attention. No fuel refund. We’ve built a culture where politics seems to be the only path to prosperity. If you’re not running for something, people ask if you’re okay. Imagine if we flipped the script. Imagine if the same excitement we have for posters, rallies and convoys was directed toward businesses.
Imagine if 3.4 million Ugandans ran profitable enterprises instead of campaigns. If each employed just two people, we’d create about 7 million jobs—without adding to the government payroll. If you want to build a middle-income economy, you don’t start with slogans. You start with welders, tailors, coders, beekeepers, farmers, and electricians. Emyoga makes sense. We need more billionaires in (agri)business—not in parliament. We must stop rewarding politics more than productivity.
So, how do we fix it? De-financialize politics. Cut the excessive costs of public offices. Slash unnecessary allowances. Limit foreign travel. Let political office be a calling—not a cash cow. Put serious money in the economy. Inject real capital into businesses. Build markets. Fund local factories. Give tax incentives to genuine manufacturers. Let people feel that it pays to work—not just to win elections.
Professionalize leadership. Require a track record of service or enterprise before someone can hold office. If you’ve never built anything, you shouldn’t start with building a country. Reform campaign financing. Place legal limits on campaign spending. Remove money as an overt or covert qualifier for leadership. Change the story. Let media and schools celebrate entrepreneurs. Highlight job creators. Tell success stories of brickmakers, chicken rearers, software developers.
Show kids that wealth can come from value—not votes. We can’t campaign our way out of poverty. We can’t poster our way to prosperity. We must produce more, innovate more, export more. We need more hammers than hashtags. More coders than convoys.
More workshop tools than hotel workshops. Leadership is critical. But its job is to guide and regulate—not to consume the lion’s share of national resources. Politics should be the referee—not the striker. The 2026 elections are months away. Analysts estimate a candidate may need over Shs500 million to contest for a parliamentary seat. We must shift the tide. Let’s challenge our youth to build, not beg. Let’s encourage women to invest, not just endorse.
The writer, Crispin Kaheru, is a member at the Uganda Human Rights Commission (UHRC)
