The recent political games surrounding Anita Annet Among have once again exposed one of the biggest weaknesses in Uganda’s fight against corruption – selective justice.
Let it be clear from the outset: Corruption is a cancer that continues to rob Ugandans of opportunities, quality healthcare, education, public services, and economic progress. Anyone found to have stolen public resources should be held accountable under the laws of Uganda. No public official should be above the law.
However, the problem arises when corruption is no longer fought as a matter of principle but as a political weapon. The problem arises when investigations, prosecutions, and public outrage appear to intensify only when an individual falls out of favour, becomes politically inconvenient, or is perceived as a threat to those who wield power.
This is not a new phenomenon in Uganda’s politics. Former Vice President Gilbert Bukenya found himself in Luzira Prison following the CHOGM scandal. While the case was presented as a fight against corruption, it’s believed there was more at play.
At the time, Bukenya’s political profile had grown significantly within the National Resistance Movement (“NRM”), and his prosecution was part of a broader effort to neutralise a rising political figure.
The same questions emerged around former Prime Minister Amama Mbabazi. While some political figures have faced intense scrutiny, others implicated in serious corruption allegations have seemingly escaped accountability altogether.
We cannot discuss corruption in Uganda without recalling the findings of the Justice Julia Sebutinde Commission of Enquiry into military procurement scandals in the late 1990s. The commission produced a detailed report raising serious concerns involving senior military officers, businessmen, and politically-connected individuals, including Gen. Salim Saleh and businessman Emma Katto.
The report generated enormous public interest and expectations of accountability. Those expectations were never fully realised. No significant consequences followed for some of the individuals named, leaving many Ugandans wondering whether there are different standards of justice for different people.
This pattern has repeated itself time and again. Corruption scandals emerge, public outrage follows, parliamentary investigations are launched, commissions are established, headlines dominate the news cycle, names are mentioned, and reports are produced.
Then, in many cases, the story quietly fades away, and life moves on as though nothing happened. The iron sheets scandal provided another powerful example. The entire country watched as iron sheets intended for vulnerable communities in Karamoja were reportedly diverted to ministers, politicians, and senior public officials.
The scandal sparked outrage both within Uganda and internationally because the resources were meant for some of the country’s most disadvantaged citizens. When accountability finally arrived, many Ugandans could not help but notice the imbalance.
Agnes Nandutu was convicted and sentenced. However, the public remains aware that numerous officials were implicated in the scandal at various levels. Some resigned. Some were investigated.
Some faced legal action. Others remained politically secure. Some even returned to influential positions within government or secured appointments in subsequent cabinet reshuffles.
If corruption is the crime, why does accountability appear so inconsistent? The same concerns have surfaced in cases involving Captain Mike Mukula and other several high-profile political figures over the years. Some have faced prosecution, imprisonment, or prolonged legal battles.
Others implicated in scandals of equal or greater magnitude have appeared largely untouched. This is where the fight against corruption loses credibility. The greatest threat to anti-corruption efforts is not criticism from opposition politicians. It is the growing belief among ordinary citizens that justice is applied selectively.
Once people begin to believe that investigations depend on political loyalty rather than evidence, confidence in public institutions starts to erode. A genuine fight against corruption cannot be based on who is politically useful and who is politically expendable. It cannot target rivals while protecting allies.
It cannot punish some offenders while rewarding others with promotions, appointments, and greater influence. Justice must be blind. The law must apply equally to ministers, military officers, opposition politicians, ruling party officials, civil servants, and business elites.
Corruption cannot be wrong when committed by one group and excusable when committed by another. Ugandans are tired of selective accountability. They are tired of seeing corruption scandals come and go without meaningful consequences.
They are tired of watching some individuals fall while others remain untouchable. The true measure of a government’s commitment to fighting corruption is not how aggressively it prosecutes those who have fallen out of favour.
It is how willing it is to hold accountable those closest to power. Until that principle is applied consistently, the fight against corruption will continue to be viewed not as a pursuit of justice, but as another instrument in Uganda’s political battles.
The writer is a member of the Peoples Reform Uganda
