Morality in Africa is life-centered, meant to guide society away from selfish desires and towards collective harmony. Yet, in Uganda, even death no longer commands the reverence it once did. The burial of former Kawempe North MP Muhammad Segirinya was not just a farewell to a fallen leader; it was a damning indictment of the rotting political class, a harrowing display of Uganda’s crumbling moral fabric.
Instead of a dignified sendoff, Ssegirinya’s final journey became a grotesque battlefield of political egos. His burial on January 12th was split into two rival ceremonies, one in Butale village, Masaka District, and another at Kadugala Primary School playground, highlighting the irredeemable fractures within the National Unity Platform (NUP) and its estranged member, Parliamentary Commissioner Mathias Mpuuga. The disgraceful power struggles that unfolded were not just shameful but an omen for Uganda’s bleak future.
How did we reach a point where even the dead are held hostage by political infighting? Ssegirinya’s mother’s desperate pleas for a dignified burial were callously ignored as factions fought like vultures over his lifeless body. The dead do not speak, yet their silent presence exposes the stinking rot among the living. This appalling episode leaves Ugandans with one grim realization: If these opposition figures cannot even manage a funeral with basic decency, how can they be trusted to govern a nation?
NUP justified its actions by citing Ssegirinya’s so-called ‘will,’ allegedly derived from his social media jokes. But let’s be clear: A legitimate will is either written or falls under specific privileged conditions, like those of soldiers on the battlefield or mariners at sea. Were we supposed to believe that Ssegirinya’s online banter held legal weight? Or was this just another shameful manipulation by self-serving politicians who see death as nothing more than a political pawn?
True leadership is tested in crisis, yet both NUP and Mpuga’s camp failed spectacularly. They had a golden opportunity to rise above their petty vendettas and display unity, but instead, they chose disgraceful public theatrics over principle. If they cannot resolve a mere funeral dispute, how will they navigate the grave challenges of running a nation? This burial did not just expose their incompetence; it served as a damning prophecy of the anarchy and ruin that could engulf Uganda should these frauds ever take power.
Adding insult to injury, both feuding factions are preparing to contest for the presidency in the upcoming elections. But what kind of leadership can Ugandans expect from those who shamelessly desecrate the dead for political gain? Their focus is not on dismantling the ruling NRM regime but on cannibalizing fellow opposition figures. While they bicker and disgrace themselves, the real enemy watches and tightens its grip on power.
With opposition politicians of this disgraceful caliber, Museveni has already secured a legitimate victory in the 2026 election. The masses are left with no choice but to vote for him again, not because they love him, but because the alternative is an absolute joke. These so-called opposition leaders are nothing but self-absorbed charlatans, incapable of leadership, devoid of principles, and driven solely by personal ambition. Judged against even the most basic standards of governance, they have already lost the fight before it has begun. Museveni faces no real opponents, only a rabble of opportunists unworthy of the people’s trust.
Uganda must wake up. The dead are not dead; they are a brutal mirror reflecting the failures of the living. Ssegirinya’s shameful sendoff should be a rallying cry for Ugandans to demand better. If we do not purge our politics of these frauds and demand real leadership now, we will soon be mourning not just individuals but the very soul of our nation.
Richard Bard Byamukama is a lawyer and a student of Security and Strategic Studies.
