Writer: Benjamin Rukwengye. PHOTO/FILE.
A story is told of how a former cabinet minister, now “working” as a Presidential Advisor needed to see the president for a personal favour. As is the case, the layers of power centres just couldn’t get peeled away enough for the appointment to happen.
The pressure kept creasing and the desperation along with it. Then, the Ex-Minister heard that the president was due to visit the local Diocese and that a private function had been organized on the sidelines, for a few tens of people to have audience with the President. The Ex-Minister approached the bishop and pleaded her case, requesting that their name be included on the list, and for a one-minute slot to greet the President.
Apparently, when the list of guests was sent upstairs for vetting, it returned with instructions for the Ex-Minister’s name to be downgraded from “Welcoming the President” to “Guest”. The bishop communicated the development, and they agreed that in his remarks, he would outrightly mention to the President that the said Ex-Minister wanted to see the president.
The appointed day arrived, and the bishop inserted the request in his speech. When everyone was done singing their praises and asking for this and that favour, it was the president’s turn to speak. He went down the list, instructing his handlers to set up appointments or sort the issue. When he got to the Ex-Minister, he said, “Ahhh, you, I will call you.”
No appointment given. No enveloped passed over. No working timeline. And more importantly, no precedent of such promises kept in the past. It is possible that the said ex-honourable is still waiting for that phone call, more than a year later.
In case you missed it, there was a video this weekend, of General Moses Ali, Uganda’s Second Deputy Prime Minister, looking every bit unwell. At 86, it is baffling though not surprising that he is still serving in Cabinet. His title is an ambiguously named position Second Deputy Prime Minister and Deputy Leader of Government Business – which like many, serves no real public service purpose.
But that is how Uganda works. The position serves a private and political purpose – and that is enough. In fact, Uganda’s oversized and amorphous cabinet – as the man responsible for putting it together keeps reminding us – is a cocktail of everyone. And if you look around, it is the same with pretty much every public entity.
That explains why things never really get done or how they get done the way they are done – when they are done. It also explains why people hang on to those jobs like their lives depend on them – because their lives literally depend on them. So, do not ask why Gen. Ali’s people would let him out of the confines of his home or hospital. Let alone even allow him contest in an election. He desperately needs it. The erosion of systems and blinding corruption and political patronage individualized power centres. If you need something done, you do not write to the organization. You call the boss or whoever has the power to do something about it.
The higher the boss, the thicker the layers of lackeys and brokers you need to go through before you can get attention. As a result, when top politicians and bigwigs fall out of favour with the big man, the struggle gets real. Your access and perks wither. Phone calls don’t get picked. Invitations dry up. Your small investments get distressed.
Regulatory and security might put a bullseye on your dealings. Your friends disappear. And because you didn’t do your part in making Uganda work for everyone, you find out how it works for everyone. So, if you are Moses Ali’s family, you have seen this happen tens of times in the last four decades. You have heard the stories told in the corridors of how people who were more powerful were left to grass.
You know that the parliamentary seat and cabinet position are the only way the medical bills will be paid. And without them, your phone calls for medical evacuation will go unanswered. What do you do?
Mr Rukwengye is the founder, Boundless Minds.
@Rukwengye
