Everyone was waiting for Mathias Walukagga’s arrival at the nomination centre when Tolbert Musinguzi, the Wakiso District returning officer, announced him as duly nominated for the forthcoming parliamentary elections.
‘Wait a minute! It can’t be. When did he come in?’, ‘Maybe by dawn, because I’ve been here since 7am, but didn’t see him coming’, ‘Maybe someone represented him at the nomination’, were some of the shocked responses before the Kadongokamu star descended the stairs from the first floor around 1:40pm.
Most had anticipated possibly the biggest procession that would give the men in uniform a hard time to manage. Because, fame aside, Walukagga has no problem being the man of the moment.
But the Bakoowu singer chose to sneak into the headquarters when almost everyone was blinking, and show up in Musinguzi’s chambers, at just the right time. He called it rope-a-dope style.Sporting his trademark shades, a white traditional tunic, a light blue blazer and a rosary.
‘Others wore suits, but as the Kabaka’s chosen one, I wore a kanzu for cultural reasons,’ Walukagga told an attentive media as his fans chanted. ‘Busiro East hosts four cultural sites, including Naggalabi Coronation site, the forest where the 1900 Agreement was signed, among others.’
Star attraction
The man who boasts as the next Busiro East Member of Parliament (MP), made news by avoiding news. With Ibrahim Ssemujju, Zambaali Bulasio Mukasa, Medard Sseggona, and the likes having been nominated on Day One, Walukagga was Day Two’s biggest celeb. Probably why Ssegona, his direct rival, opted to be nominated a day earlier.
Some came in mini-processions with rowdy fans and family, in Range Rovers, Land Cruisers, and helicopters. Others chose simple but newsy arrivals: bicycles, boda bodas and tuku-tukus. But Walukagga chose neither. His entry was a calculated, silent stunt that shouted loudest once he sprouted after being nominated.
The night prior, the Kyengera Town Council mayor told his TikTok viewers that Nsangi Police wanted to assess his phone to establish whether he does not sponsor the insults against his political rivals via X, formerly Twitter.
‘But I don’t have an X account,’ the Kiwuggulu singer denied on TikTok. ‘I’m only on WhatsApp, Facebook and TikTok. Maybe someone opened an X account in my name to say things I don’t know about.’
Plotting an upset
That National Unity Platform (NUP) flag, which almost guarantees Walukagga a place in the 12th Parliament, could end an era of one of the most revered, consistent legislators of this generation.
Sseggona, an eminent lawyer and lawmaker, with deep roots in Mengo, was Busiro East’s natural choice for three consecutive terms since 2011, regardless which colours he wore, until this year when Walukagga expressed interest in the same post.
Before and after losing the coveted NUP ticket, Sseggona has never wasted an opportunity to prove that the party had blundered in ditching him after ‘a job I’ve so diligently done.’
‘We’ll pray without ceasing that our friends finally admit that I have an edge over them and support me-in good faith. Because unity is strength. I think I have led them well.
They can also continue to learn from me, if they want,’ Sseggona, tone and looks rich in disdain, said moments before his nomination as an Independent candidate. Sseggona was also crucial in NUP’s intricate legal battles, most notably the petition against President Museveni’s victory in 2021. But in this era of defiance and calls for ‘protest votes’, all that may mean nothing to the ordinary voter.
‘Abantu baagala kubakyusa bulamu bwabwe; Ab’enzungu babaddewo naye nga byagaana,’ Walukagga sings in his latest song Uganda Empya (New Uganda), meaning ‘The learned have tried but failed to cause the change people need.’
Isn’t that a retort to his aloof opponent and his fans? Creatives can be tricky in verbal battles. Walukagga may be that Masaka-hailing, half-educated kandongokamu singer, but his ability to cite global intellectuals in his lyrics gives him an unlikely edge over adversaries.
In Uganda Empya, for instance, he sings: ‘Abadde akuba kerere kendeeza, by’okoledde abalonzi bikusuusuute,’ quoting American author Robert Greene’s ninth law of power: ‘Win through your actions, never through argument.’
First surprise entry
‘I’m going to surrender my only phone to the police,’ Walukagga said on TikTok two Wednesday nights ago. ‘But let me hope this isn’t a conspiracy to block my nomination. We shall see whether our police can be used by individuals in shoddy deals.’
Now do you connect the dots? The alleged witch-hunt and the sneaky entry into the nomination centre. Granted, Walukagga sung some awakening songs. The biggest of them being Bakoowu-a depiction of an entirely tired society.
But like we missed his entry into the nomination centre, we didn’t see him joining the political arena, becoming this serious and ambitious. Before his first mayoral term expires, he is already feeling like a member of the August House.
In Parliament Yaffe, Walukagga sings about the declining impact of our Parliament, thus advocating for a House where lawmakers debate in languages they are more comfortable with.
Quite hard, though, in a country that lacks a uniform language, how many interpreters would we need? Perhaps, that baited his detractors into thinking he is uncomfortable with the official language. Or that he lacks the requisite academic credentials for the MP contest.
‘They say I don’t have papers [academic credentials], but I’m in the final semester of my Bachelor’s in Public Administration at St Lawrence University. So which university admits you for a degree without a Senior Six certificate?’ Walukagga said in his inaugural address.
‘I would have responded to that nonsense. And you know me when it comes to quarrelling and countering insults. Only the late Paul Kafeero could do it better. But I chose to ignore that nonsense,’ said the man famed for hits like Tuleppuke, one of his rebuttals to a prominent businessman over a love affair.
When journalists asked Walukagga to recap his inaugural address in English, some of his fans ruled them out. ‘Don’t disturb the man, he’s dressed like a Muganda,’ one interrupted, as if attire dictates lingua. ‘So, which language shall he use in Parliament?’ one journalist asked, echoing a general feeling.
‘Kati muleese bya Sseggona,’ another fan countered, meaning ‘You’re pedaling Sseggona’s claims.’ But Walukagga had no problem with the journalists’ request. Even at the start he had asked: which language should we begin with? And his command of English is just enough.