In Uganda today, we do not just have bad politics, we have a bastardised political arena. A system stripped of dignity, emptied of values, and turned into a marketplace for votes.
Here, elections are no longer about ideas, competence, or service. They are about money, the new currency of power.
As other countries approach elections, voters weigh candidates by their vision and integrity. But in Uganda, it comes down to who can distribute the most sugar, salt, soap, or hoes.
Our so-called honourable Members of Parliament have mastered one art, not legislation or oversight , but how to buy another term in office.
Every election season, they descend on villages like returning messiahs, attending funerals, fundraisings, and birthday parties, handing out brown envelopes in exchange for praise songs and blind loyalty. And we cheer, kneel, and clap, forgetting to ask: What have they done for us in Parliament?
Having served twice as a polling agent, I have seen this up close.
Whenever I asked someone to vote for my candidate, they didn’t ask about her policies or experience. They asked only one thing: ‘How much is she paying?’
The highest bidder always wins. And even when the candidate is competent, their victory becomes a triumph of cash, not character. That is why we remain stuck, choosing money over merit.
This monetisation of politics allows MPs to neglect their duties once elected. They know the voters aren’t watching. They know all they need to offer come the next election is Shs20,000 and a packet of salt. That is the going rate for silence and submission.
We got here because of poverty and ignorance. Many Ugandans are too poor to reject bribes; others don’t understand what Parliament is meant to do. Ironically, some candidates also borrow money to bribe voters, a vicious cycle that only deepens our political decay.
The regime has mastered this dysfunction. It knows that poor but desperate MPs can be bought, and that Opposition voices can be silenced with envelopes or appointments.
Once loud critics of the regime are now its most loyal defenders. Money changes everything.
Yet they are not the only problem. The people, too, must take responsibility. Our indifference has birthed this ghetto politics, where competence is rejected unless it comes with bribes. We sell our votes and cry foul when nothing changes. But there is a way forward.
Honest candidates must take the gamble, to campaign on ideas, not sugar. Let Ugandans slowly rediscover politics that speak to their dignity, not their hunger.
And to my fellow voters: think about the Uganda you want your children to inherit. The salt-and-basin politicians go to Parliament to destroy your health, your education, your democracy, and your future.
Do not sell your vote for a packet of sugar. Until we end this trade in votes, Uganda will remain trapped in the dungeons of ghetto politics, ruled not by the competent, but by the rich and unqualified populists.