My late grandfather did two things I shall never forget: First, he divided his land and gave each of his children a piece to build on. He intended to avoid land wrangles after his death. Yet some siblings were still scheming for the small land he left behind for his widow. He was a man who understood that legacy is not hoarding but planting seeds for the next generation.
Second, he planted trees. Not for himself but for us. Some still stand decades later. Others were cut down when times got hard. Even then, they served their purpose: sustaining the family he left behind. That Uganda—the one of foresight, sacrifice and intergenerational care—is disappearing. And what is replacing it? A nation eating itself alive.
There are three Ugandas we have become today:
1. The “Let me feast before I die” generation
This is about men who have turned public offices into personal buffets. The ones who approve roads that vanish after the first rain, who sell off wetlands while preaching “development”, who treat national resources like a retirement package. They are not building a country—they are looting a carcass.
Worst part? They have convinced themselves they deserve it. “I suffered for you”, “I worked hard”, they say. As if my grandfather did not work hard. As if your mother did not break her back in gardens. Suffering is not a licence to steal from your own children.
2. The “I am just surviving” crowd
Then there are those who have checked out. The ones who say: “What can I do? It is just how things are.” They see the corruption, the collapsing systems, the daylight robbery—and shrug. They will vote for the same thieves if it means a T-shirt and shs20,000.
This is not just apathy—it is complicity. When good people tolerate evil because resistance is inconvenient, evil wins by default.
3. The “I am trying, but you are dragging me down”
These are the young entrepreneurs taxed into oblivion while the connected elite get waivers. The teachers buying chalk for classrooms as MPs pocket millions for “stationery”. The activists labelled “troublemakers” for asking why a hospital has no gloves.
They are fighting on broken legs because the other two groups keep cutting the crutches.
There is a reason prophets were stoned in the Bible: Truth irritates the guilty.
We claim to want honesty—until it mirrors our own failings. A politician will rage about corruption until you mention his shady deals.
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A businessman will condemn bureaucracy but will not declare his actual taxes. Ordinary people will complain about leaders stealing then bribe a traffic officer to avoid a traffic ticket.
We are a nation allergic to self-accountability. We would rather blame “the system” than admit we are the system.
I have struggled with debt. So when someone said, “You are terrible with money”, it stung—because it was true. But that sting? That is the pain of growth.
Uganda’s problem is not just the thieves at the top. It is our collective refusal to look in the mirror. Parents spoil kids with bribes for grades then wonder why they grow up entitled. Landlords charge rents in dollars while tenants earn in shillings then complain the economy is “bad”.
We all want better roads but will not stop vandalising manhole covers. We are like a drunk man blaming the road for being crooked.
My grandfather’s trees did not grow overnight. They needed patience, care and—crucially—not uprooting them every dry season. Rebuilding Uganda requires the same:
1. Stop celebrating thieves. That MP who “brings development” after stealing billions is not a hero—he is a burglar returning crumbs from your own fridge.
2. Before cursing leaders, ask: Did I do my part? Pay taxes? Vote wisely? Reject a bribe? Change starts with the man in the mirror—not just the one on TV.
3. Protect the few people trying to do right. Honest police officers, principled nurses, uncorrupted teachers need support. When we mock them as “fools who do not know how things work”, we kill the last good seeds.
My grandfather left us land and trees. But what will our generation leave? A mountain of debt? Stolen forests? A country where “who you know” matters more than what you do? Or will we finally say: “Enough. I shall not be the parasite that starves my own children.”
The choice is ours. The time is now.
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