The energetic field inspections led by Hon. Balaam Barugahara and Hon. Justine Nameere have captured public attention across Uganda.
For citizens long frustrated by bureaucratic inefficiency, poor service delivery and local corruption, the sight of ministers confronting public officials and demanding accountability has understandably generated widespread approval.
Their interventions—from inspecting Naiku Health Centre III and Naiku Primary School in Mbale to probing inflated land acquisition costs in Namisindwa and exposing extortion under the Parish Development Model (PDM)—have resonated with a public hungry for decisive action.
There is much to commend in leaders who insist that public resources be used honestly and efficiently. The constitutional question, however, is not whether ministers should fight corruption—they should.
It is whether executive activism, however well-intentioned, can substitute for the institutions the Constitution established to investigate, prosecute and prevent corruption.
As senior lawyer and legislator Hon. Paul Mwiru has observed, Uganda’s corruption problem is fundamentally systemic rather than merely personal. It is sustained by weak oversight, unrealistic budgeting, defective procurement, inadequate supervision and institutional incentives that reward dishonesty while penalising integrity.
Governance scholarship similarly explains entrenched corruption as a collective action problem. When corruption becomes the norm, public officials assume that “everyone else is doing it.”
Honesty appears irrational because integrity attracts personal cost while corruption often enjoys protection. Under such conditions, strategies focused solely on exposing individual culprits seldom alter the institutional environment that continually reproduces corruption.
This also explains why anti-corruption campaigns frequently become selective. Petty corruption thrives where supervision is weak, while grand corruption survives through political protection and institutional capture.
Highly publicised inspections may expose lower-level officials while leaving untouched those who control the systems within which corruption flourishes. Likewise, while district officials face intense public scrutiny, significant classified expenditures and politically sensitive areas of public finance are seldom subjected to the same level of executive attention.
The Uganda Institution of Professional Engineers (UIPE) recently illustrated this concern when it cautioned against the public detention of the Bulambuli District Engineer before comprehensive engineering, procurement and financial audits had been completed. Its warning was instructive: technical officers should not become convenient scapegoats for failures arising from chronic underfunding, defective planning or systemic administrative weaknesses.
A useful contrast in executive oversight is offered by the Minister of Information, Dr. Chris Baryomunsi. During an unannounced night inspection at Mbarara Regional Referral Hospital, where he found absenteeism and serious service delivery failures, he deliberately refrained from ordering arrests.
Instead, he emphasised supportive supervision and administrative correction. His approach reflected an important constitutional principle: executive oversight should identify institutional weaknesses, while criminal liability should follow professional investigation and due process.
Articles 28 and 42 of the Constitution guarantee every person the right to a fair hearing and lawful administrative action.
In Ken Lukyamuzi v Inspector General of Government & Attorney General, the Supreme Court reaffirmed that even constitutional oversight bodies are bound by natural justice. Executive enthusiasm, however commendable, cannot override constitutional safeguards.
The deeper constitutional concern is the gradual normalisation of command-style governance. Uganda’s Constitution deliberately rejects government by personal command, distributing public authority among specialised institutions such as the Inspectorate of Government, the Auditor General, the Director of Public Prosecutions, the Uganda Police Force and the courts. Ministers provide political leadership and policy oversight; they are neither statutory investigators nor judicial officers.
This constitutional philosophy finds one of its clearest expressions in Article 208. Although situated within the chapter on the Uganda Peoples’ Defence Forces, Article 208 embodies a broader constitutional principle: public power, especially coercive power, must be exercised through disciplined institutions governed by law rather than through personal command or informal authority.
The framers understood from Uganda’s history that constitutional government depends upon professionalism, institutional restraint and political neutrality.
That philosophy extends beyond the military. It reflects the Constitution’s commitment that governance should be conducted through institutions rather than personalities. It is therefore troubling that bureaucracy, due process and institutional safeguards are increasingly portrayed as obstacles to efficiency and decisive leadership.
Similar reasoning has also been invoked to justify informal political mobilisation outside established legal frameworks. Whatever the context, the underlying message is the same: constitutional procedures are dispensable when they appear to slow executive action.
Yet constitutionalism rests on the opposite premise. Due process is not administrative inconvenience; it is the safeguard against arbitrary government. Institutional procedures may seem slower, but they protect both public accountability and individual liberty.
The danger therefore extends beyond dramatic ministerial inspections. Once citizens applaud departures from established procedures because the immediate target appears guilty, they also legitimise the principle that executive discretion may replace institutional process whenever urgency is invoked.
The same informal methods celebrated today against suspected embezzlers may tomorrow be employed against political opponents, civil society organisations, journalists or ordinary citizens under equally persuasive slogans of anti-corruption, efficiency, patriotism, national security or public order.
History teaches that constitutional erosion rarely begins with open defiance of the law. It begins by persuading citizens that legal safeguards are unnecessary obstacles to good governance. Once that mentality becomes accepted, institutions steadily lose authority while arbitrary executive power becomes normalised.
Uganda’s fight against corruption will not be won by substituting individual personalities for constitutional institutions. Sustainable reform requires strengthening procurement systems, internal audit mechanisms, contract supervision and existing accountability structures while ensuring that suspected criminal conduct is investigated by the Inspectorate of Government, the Police and prosecuted by the Director of Public Prosecutions in accordance with the law.
The Constitution of 1995 was founded on the conviction that Uganda’s future would be secured not by spectacle or command, but by the rule of law and institutional accountability.
That wisdom remains as relevant today as it was three decades ago. Spectacle may satisfy today’s demand for action. Only strong institutions can deliver lasting integrity and preserve constitutional democracy.
The writer is a senior advocate and former Minister.