What’s the actual going rate for an assassin in this town?

On the night of June 6, 2009, a car pulled up to the gate of Mengo Hospital and a young man was dumped from it. He was writhing in pain and bleeding heavily from what looked like gunshot wounds. Tom Julunga. A renowned Forum for Democratic Change (FDC) youth winger.

Julunga was a prominent voice on Bimeeza public debate circuits that aired on Kampala’s radio stations before they were banned by the government. He was a firebrand and at the center of whatever fracas his party got involved in with the Police. And those days, there were many. At the FDC, his ire and energies were particularly saved for a certain Beti Kamya, whose troublesome supporters he often physically battled with.

He would die later that night. It is reported that Mengo Hospital refused to offer him treatment because they couldn’t decide whether he was a good guy or a bad guy. His pleas fell on deaf ears until an unidentified person lifted him and took him to Mulago Hospital, where he was pronounced dead on arrival.

The FDC accused the Police of murdering one of their own. The Police insisted that he was a criminal who had been gunned down in a foiled robbery. Later the Police said that perhaps, Beti Kamya’s supporters had done him in. Words were exchanged. Investigative teams set up. And nothing was done. 15 years later, it is not really known who killed Julunga or why. But people have a theory.

Early this week, I bumped into a friend who is in the early days of her foray into a career in investigative journalism. We got talking about her work and the risks that could come with it should those who stand accused decide to retaliate. Inevitably, we talked about our mutual friends at Agora Discourse, the online activism outfit that is proving to be a very inconvenient pebble in the shoes of Uganda’s ubiquitous corrupt politicians.

The current object of their interest is the very dishonorable Parliament and its crudely lavish Speaker, who are accused of shoveling away millions of dollars of taxpayers’ money and diverting it to personal enrichment. The – mostly – young people at Agora have since reported cases of death threats and claims of being trailed by shadowy figures, ostensibly deployed by those unhappy with their exposés.

These are not unfounded fears and allegations. This is Uganda. It is hard to explain how things work. Cabinet Ministers, army Generals, Senior Police Officers, and people at that level get shot and killed in broad daylight. Investigations never really lead anywhere. You often hear rumors and accusations of poisoning.

Regulatory agencies are often trailed on whoever is deemed to be troublesome. People are disappeared in drones and the lucky ones brought to court, months later, limping, bruised, and licking wounds – only to be sent back on remand ad infinitum. The lucky ones. Others just never get accounted for.

In the years between the death of Julunga and the assassination of the head of Buganda’s Ndiga clan, Lwomwa Bbosa, something fundamental has shifted in Uganda’s security complexion. This is mostly occasioned by the tsunamis that have rocked the country’s politics over the last 15 years, the astronomical rise in corruption, and an economy that is working for a select few.

The persistent and niggling presence of the indefatigable Kizza Besigye, the need to neutralize the threat posed by former Premier Amama Mbabazi in 2016, and the emergence of Robert Kyagulanyi raised the stakes. This has only been worsened by the succession politics going on inside the Museveni government and family.

To find the right balance, the state has had to retain its might and overarching muscle but also create room for the tens of power centers that need to be appeased. Consequently, the monopoly of violence (and I daresay crime) has been auctioned off to all manner of rogue elements as long as they can keep the ship afloat.

That is how we have ended up where we are. With Julunga, you had only the Police to point at. Today there are more than a dozen regular and shadowy agencies in the mix, freelance hitmen, ADF terrorists et al. That same political brinkmanship has weakened and compromised the ability to investigate and prosecute crime, allowing perpetrators to literally get away with murder. The only comfort for everyone perhaps is that in a sinking ship, nobody is safe.

Mr Rukwengye is the founder, Boundless Minds. @Rukwengye