By Dr. Dennis Daniel Ssemugenyi
As the calendar edges closer to the tumultuous election season of 2026, a pervasive sense of trepidation cloaks the nation. The air is thick with anticipation, yet the undercurrents of fear and division threaten to surmount the fervour of democratic engagement. This dichotomy begs the question: Is it an election or a vio-lection?
The landscape of Ugandan politics has undeniably morphed into a battleground where words are wielded like weapons, their impact resonating far beyond mere speeches or manifestos. The recent figurehead of this troubling phenomenon has been none other than Robert Kyagulanyi, popularly known as Bobi Wine. His rallying cry, “Muzimbe Eggaali”, rapidly garnered support among the populace yearning for change.
However, this slogan has also served as a double-edged sword, fuelling a narrative that some within the ruling National Resistance Movement (NRM) have deftly manipulated. They have crafted a portrayal of Kyagulanyi’s supporters as a mob, an “unruly” collective traversing the nation, armed not just with ambition but with chaos.
Words, wielded with calculated intent, possess an extraordinary power. In the realm of politics, a single phrase can incite fervour, inspire hope, or sow discord. Yet, in Uganda’s charged political climate, the responsibility to choose words wisely has seemingly waned. Politicians treat their tongues as instruments of division rather than tools for unity. The artillery of disdain is frequently launched, and rhetoric morphs into incitement. Where once there were promises of progress and a commitment to civility, a cacophony of insults and provocations now reigns supreme.
Compounding the situation is the portrayal of the NRM as the embodiment of stability. Yet, when scrutinised, it becomes starkly evident that their allegiance to ‘grandfather’ and the purported father, Muhoozi Kainerugaba, is less about safeguarding a legacy and more about consolidating power. They attempt to vilify any dissent with euphemisms that inadvertently endorse the very violence they claim to abhor. The rhetoric surrounding “Eggaali” has morphed into a tool of disinformation, transforming the narrative from one of hopeful aspiration to a dystopian cautionary tale of disorder and unrest.
As the election nears, the importance of civic engagement cannot be overstated. Yet, how can the citizenry participate meaningfully when their voices are overshadowed by an echo chamber of incitement and aggression? The traditional platforms for dialogue have soured, replaced by a combative landscape where even the most earnest aspirations can be misconstrued.
This alarming trajectory is deeply unsettling. If Ugandans are to take the helm of their future, they must engage in a more profound conversation—one rooted in respect for diverse views and the dignity of discourse. The idea of ‘vio-lection’ does not merely signify a threat of violence; it encapsulates a broader culture of antagonism that undermines the very essence of democracy.
Approaching this electoral period with circumspection becomes imperative. Each utterance, each campaign slogan must be scrutinised, not merely for its sensational allure but for its potential to either build bridges or deepen divides. Are we, as a nation, willing to permit ourselves to be swept into the maelstrom of vitriol, or can we transcend this moment of discord and reclaim the narrative?
Ultimately, the power of words holds the potential to either propel Uganda toward a future marked by solidarity or plunge it into chaos.
But beyond the slogans, beyond the cheering crowds and echo chambers, lies a dangerous truth: when political language is stripped of responsibility, it becomes a weapon. This is no time to speak carelessly. Every word carries the weight of potential consequence. Whether voiced from a podium in Kampala or typed in fury on social media, political speech must be weighed against its ability to inspire peace—or provoke violence.
In this environment, it is no longer enough to appeal to “the people” without acknowledging the volatility that such appeals may trigger. Even well-meaning opposition leaders must now tread with extraordinary care. While the plight of the oppressed and disenfranchised demands urgency and courage, it must be matched with clarity, discipline, and moral restraint. For what good is liberation if it ushers in more suffering, more disarray?
Likewise, leaders in the ruling establishment must abandon the temptation to twist every act of protest into an existential threat. To caricature dissent as rebellion is to poison the well of national dialogue. The use of state platforms to caricature, intimidate, or suppress alternative views does not reflect strength; it reflects fear masquerading as authority.
We must all ask: what kind of Uganda are we imagining when our young people—many of whom know nothing but the same faces and the same rhetoric—look around and find only hostility, only binaries, only the exhausted options of silence or confrontation? Are we preparing them to inherit a democracy or a disaster?
This is why the language we use matters now more than ever. If we continue to frame elections as battles, do not be surprised when citizens start treating ballots like bullets. If every disagreement becomes a threat, then every opponent becomes an enemy. And if every campaign is a provocation, then democracy becomes a theatre of war, not a forum for progress.
It is not naïve to hope for restraint—it is urgent. Because if our leaders, our candidates, and even our supporters do not learn to restrain the urge to inflame, to mock, to dehumanize, then we will continue down this path of mutual destruction. And what a tragedy it would be if, in the pursuit of power or freedom, we end up destroying the very country we claim to fight for—or the very people we seek to uplift.
This message is not limited to one side. It speaks to the Kyagulanyi’s and to every opposition leader whose words stir the hearts of the desperate. It speaks equally to those aligned with the ruling party, who must remember that with power comes the greater burden of example. To them both: let us not excite our people into rage and retaliation, only to watch helplessly as the institutions we still have crumble under the pressure.
As the nation stands on the precipice of critical choice, the hope should be to steer the conversation away from vio-lection and towards a true election—one that embodies the principles of respect, unity, and a commitment to a better tomorrow.
Authored by: Dr. Dennis Daniel Ssemugenyi
Political Analyst, Author, Pioneer EBTDI (Every Birthday Tree Day Initiative).
