There is a proverb often recited but rarely understood: what the eye sees can deceive the mind, but what the mind refuses to question will govern the future.
It is an uncomfortable truth that nations, like individuals, are sometimes most vulnerable not when they are blind, but when they are convinced they can see clearly.
The proposed Protection of Sovereignty Bill, 2026 arrives clothed in the language of patriotism: measured, deliberate, almost noble. Its stated intention is simple enough: to shield Uganda from undue foreign influence; to ensure that national decisions are not quietly engineered by external actors whose interests may not align with those of the Republic.
On its face, this is not only legitimate, it is necessary. No serious state abdicates its sovereignty willingly. No prudent government ignores the subtle ways in which influence travels; through funding, policy advocacy, and seemingly benign partnerships.
And so, the first question must be asked honestly: who does this Bill benefit? At its most charitable reading, it benefits the state; by strengthening its oversight, by centralizing its awareness of foreign influence, and by placing boundaries on financial flows that may distort national priorities.
But the deeper question, the one that must not be avoided, is whether strengthening the State in this manner necessarily strengthens the people. For sovereignty, as enshrined in the Constitution, does not belong to the State as an abstract entity; it belongs to the people, from whom all authority is derived.
This is where the Bill begins to shift from intention to consequence. Uganda’s Constitution is explicit under Article 1: all power belongs to the people and shall be exercised in accordance with the Constitution.
Any legislative framework that substantially alters the manner in which citizens engage with external actors, participate in national discourse, or interact with global institutional systems must, therefore, be evaluated not merely as a regulatory instrument, but as a restructuring of how sovereignty itself is exercised.
Where regulation begins to shift decision- making authority from citizens toward administrative gatekeeping structures, the constitutional character of sovereignty risks quiet transformation.
Where legislation materially affects the architecture through which citizens exercise sovereignty – including participation in civic engagement structures involving international partnerships – there arises a legitimate constitutional question of whether such reform falls within the category of structural constitutional change contemplated under Article 255, requiring direct popular approval.
A law that begins by protecting sovereignty but arrives by displacing it is not a shield; it is a substitution. Yet it would be intellectually dishonest to dismiss the Bill entirely. That would be the easy path, and perhaps the most popular one.
But good lawyering, and indeed good nation-building, requires more than reaction. It demands discernment. The world has changed. Influence is no longer exerted through overt political control but through more sophisticated channels: development financing, policy advisory, civil society engagement, and economic leverage.
In this sense, the instinct behind the Bill is not misplaced. The State is not wrong to seek visibility, to seek control, to seek assurance that its trajectory is not being quietly redirected. But instinct is not architecture.
And this Bill, in several respects, reveals the dangers of building a structure on instinct alone. Consider, for instance, the seemingly precise but deeply problematic limitation imposed under Clause 22, which caps foreign funding at approximately Shs 400 million within a 12-month period.
At first glance, this appears to be a rational control mechanism – a ceiling to prevent excessive dependency. But the modern economy does not operate within such neat numerical confines.
A single infrastructure feasibility study, a modest tourism development project, or even a mid-level institutional grant can exceed this threshold several times over without constituting undue influence. The problem here is not merely that the threshold is low; it is that it misunderstands scale.
It assumes that influence is a function of volume alone, when in reality influence is often embedded in structure, in conditionality, in long-term engagement; not in the size of a single transaction.
By reducing a complex phenomenon to a numerical cap, the law risks achieving the opposite of its intent: it will deter legitimate capital while failing to detect sophisticated influence.
In practice, this clause does not regulate influence; it fragments it. It encourages the structuring of funding into smaller, less visible streams, thereby pushing activity into less transparent channels. In attempting to control the visible, it may well incentivize the invisible.
Equally troubling is the Bill’s expansive interpretation of who constitutes a “foreigner.” In its current form, the term stretches beyond its ordinary meaning and begins to capture Ugandans in the diaspora.
This raises a question both simple and profound: why are Ugandans residing in “outside countries” defined, even within a statutory scheme, as foreigners? An argument may be advanced that definitions within an Act operate only for the purposes of that Act, and that such classification does not, in strict terms, deprive diasporans of their citizenship.
That is legally correct, but constitutionally incomplete. Citizenship under Articles 9, 10, 12, 13, and 15 is a legal status, not a geographical condition. Ugandans residing abroad remain citizens unless citizenship is formally renounced in accordance with constitutional procedure.
Dual citizenship is expressly recognized. A statutory framework that treats citizens abroad as foreigners solely by reason of residence risks introducing a classification inconsistent with the constitutional structure of citizenship itself.
Can statute, even indirectly, erode what the Constitution so deliberately defines? Where two Ugandan citizens are treated differently purely on the basis that one resides within Uganda and the other outside it, there arises a legitimate constitutional concern under Article 21 on equality before and under the law.
Regulatory distinctions based on residence must, therefore, meet the threshold of necessity, proportionality, and constitutional justification. A nation that begins to treat its own people as external risks more than confusion; it risks alienation.
This concern is not merely theoretical. It manifests in practical, almost human terms. Consider the ordinary diasporan who remits funds to support family. Where are the claimed exceptions for private and commercial remittances clearly provided for within the framework?
Will the ailing mother of a diasporan not be required, under Clause 21, to declare the source of remitted funds to the Minister, and under Clause 25, to produce such declaration to her financial institution before accessing those funds?
At that point, regulation ceases to be abstract; it becomes personal. It moves from policy into lived experience. And when law begins to impose procedural burdens on the most ordinary expressions of familial support, it risks crossing the line from governance into intrusion. There is also a deeper constitutional dimension.
Freedom of expression and freedom of association, protected under Article 29, extend to participation in civic discourse, policy engagement, research collaboration, and institutional partnerships.
Where external engagement by citizens becomes subject to prior regulatory suspicion rather than transparent, disclosure-based oversight, there is a risk that constitutional freedoms shift subtly; but significantly, from rights to permissions.
Similarly, Article 40 guarantees the right of persons to practice their profession and to carry on any lawful occupation, trade, or business. Diaspora participation in investment, enterprise formation, institutional support, research collaboration, and capital mobilization forms part of this economic agency.
A framework that indirectly restricts such participation by reclassifying citizens as foreign actors risks constraining constitutionally protected economic activity. There is also a quieter, less discussed dimension to this Bill; one that does not immediately reveal itself in the clauses but emerges upon closer reflection.
It is the question of practicality. Laws do not operate in theory; they operate in systems, through institutions, administered by individuals, within existing constraints. The Bill assumes a level of administrative capacity, regulatory coherence, and inter-agency coordination that, if we are candid, does not yet exist in sufficient measure.
Compliance regimes of this nature are complex, data-intensive, and resource-demanding. Without the necessary infrastructure, they do not produce order; they produce discretion. And discretion, when unbounded, is the most subtle form of uncertainty.
It is in this space that businesses hesitate, investors withdraw, and institutions become cautious; not because they are unwilling to comply, but because they cannot predict how compliance will be interpreted.
The timing of the Bill introduces an additional layer of concern. Legislative legitimacy is not only derived from content but from process. Where Parliament is not fully constituted or where its mandate is in transition, the passage of a law of this magnitude raises legitimate questions about representativeness and procedural integrity.
Law, especially one that touches the core of national sovereignty, must not only be done; it must be seen to be done properly. And yet, even in its most contested form, the Bill offers an opportunity; if only we are willing to see it.
It forces a national conversation that has long been avoided: how does Uganda engage with the world on its own terms? How does it attract capital without surrendering control? How does it regulate influence without stifling participation?
These are not easy questions, and they do not admit easy answers. What is missing in the current formulation is not intention, but balance. Sovereignty and openness are not mutually exclusive; they are interdependent.
A nation that closes itself in the name of protection may preserve its autonomy but lose its momentum. A nation that opens itself without guardrails may gain growth but forfeit direction. The art lies in calibrating both.
A constitutionally-aligned path forward is neither rejection nor blind adoption, but refinement. It lies in distinguishing clearly between foreign actors and Ugandan citizens abroad; in adopting transparency- based disclosure thresholds rather than rigid participation ceilings; in safeguarding diaspora investment as an integral component of national economic sovereignty; and in ensuring that regulatory frameworks strengthen accountability without weakening constitutionally protected freedoms.
To declare this Bill entirely bad would be an overstatement. To pass it in its current form would be a miscalculation. History offers quiet precedents. Laws passed in urgency often outlive the circumstances that created them, but their consequences endure.
The most effective legal frameworks are not those that react to the present, but those that anticipate the future without constraining it. If this Bill passes as it stands, its impact will not be immediate in its severity, but gradual in its reach.
Investment will not collapse overnight, but it will hesitate. Partnerships will not disappear, but they will become cautious. Innovation will not cease, but it will relocate.
And slowly, almost imperceptibly, the very sovereignty the law seeks to protect may be weakened; not by foreign actors, but by the unintended consequences of its own design. In the end, sovereignty is not a possession to be guarded jealously; it is a responsibility to be exercised wisely.
It resides not in the hands of the Executive, nor in the text of a statute, but in the collective agency of the people. And any law that seeks to protect it must begin and end there.
The writer is the Chief Executive Partner, M/s Kalikumutima & Co. Advocates
Deo has written a beautiful coherent article and attempted to be balanced, giving both sides of the argument. When his article is read in historical context, however, his analyses ignore the structural continuities and discontinuities of both nationa and international politics and therefore slips when he claims that the world has changed: “Influence is no longer exerted through overt political control but through more sophisticated channels: development financing, policy advisory, civil society engagement, and economic leverage.” Really? Throughout recorded history, influence was always both overt and covert. Civil society as understood today might be a new phenomenon, but throughout history, there always intermediaries and ‘civisl society’ actors pursuing different interests. In the Ugandan context, civil society is a caged bird with limited influence on the internal dynamics of our governance.
There is nothing good in the Sovereignty Bill because it really targets the ordinary Ugandan citizen who dares hold alternative views. Put blantly, this bill targets Robert Kagulanyi and any Ugandans who hold contrary views to those in power. Coming on the heels of Mr. Kyagulanyi’s dramatic escape from Uganda, one does not need to be a rocket scientis to figure out the motivation of the movers of this Bill. Mr. Kyagulanyi’s escape was an embrassment for those in power, especially after they occupied his home for several weeks and set up roadblocks to try to capture him. He fled and appeared abroad and the movers of the bill are seeking to ensure that such a fiasco does not occur in the near future.
In the second place, the very idea of protecting Uganda from foreign influence is laughable because Uganda as a state is an embodiment of foreign influence. Everything about the structures of the states and its governance are foreign influence. The different Ugandan nationalities were nations in their own right and governed themselves according their own ethos. And crucially, and perhaps the most serious undermining of our sovereignty is the liberalisation of our economy through the infuence of the World Bank and International Monetary Fund and the so-called donor countries. This, I would argue, perhaps hits or tears the veneer of the people Uganda as the source of sovereignty than the small funding civil society organisations in Uganda receive abroad to create for themselve employment opportunities and advocate for specific issues. Listen, Deo, nothing in Uganda we have done is our original idea and even the ideologies which those in power flaunt about are foreign: Marxist ideology! As one former minister aptly put it: “our budgets, development plans, and national projects had to be approved by the World Bank, IMF, and the Donor Community.” In fact, ‘we could not independently decide our priorities or development plans’. Almost 90 per cent of what we consume in Uganda is imported and you cannot rely on imports and claim you are sovereign.
We do not need a law on paper to protect our sovereignty. We need a law of love in our hearts to see each other as one people and have the ability to accommodate criticism of our flaws. We all have flaws. No one is perfect.
Lomo, for 40 years and counting, the Bill/Law is to foreignize and criminalized Hon Kyagulanyi and Ugandans within and without of the country; who are sick a tired of being at the mercy of criminals who, through lawlessness occupied our State House on 25th January 1986.
Who in his/her right state of mind can deny that: because of being under the influence of megalomania; our 86-years-old PROBLEM OF AFRICA as well as now his son, Gen MK have developed a murderous hatred for Dr. Besisgye and Hon Kyagulanyi, or whoever threatens their illegal stranglehold-grip on raw power.
E.g. since 2001 when Dr. Basigye stood for the presidency, after the election and for his life, he had to flee to South Africa . And when he tried again in 2006, Mr. M7 wanted him hanged through the law- by a trumped up rape and treason charges.
In 2012 April 18th, Afande, Gilbert Arinaitwe almost murdered Dr. besigye at the Mulago Round-about.
Next was Hon Kyagulanyi: In 2017 in Arua, during the Bi-election Campaign to replace murder Hon Abiriga (RIP) ; Hon Kyagulanyi survived being murdered in cold blood, during an unprovoked melee (artificially created chaos -Kavuyo).
Unfortunately his innocent Driver, Yasin Kawuma (RIP) got the bullet through the ears.
But Kyagulany did not escape the brutality and arrest. The SFC henchmen/Zealots beat the hell out him to near death (resuscitated) as well as got him charged with treason and being in possession of illegal (planted) weapons/guns .
So was Hon Francis Zaake, who was thrashed into pulp and dumped for DEAD, at the Gate of Rubaga Hospital.
In other words, including offering BOGUS THANKSGIVING PRAYERS, who in his/her right state of mind can still deny that our PROBLEM OF AFRICA and son Gen MK, have equally developed a Satanic pleasure in making life impossible for whoever tries to legally wrestle political power from their evil stranglehold?
In other words, all the politically motivated laws/amendments such as: the removal of Term and Age Limit are tainted with falsehood.
Therefore, since it is now a trend; the Sovereignty Bill is very BAD. E.g., the Age-limit was targeting Obote (RIP) who wanted to come back from Zambia and stand in the 2006 Gen Election. Unfortunately he could not make it because he passed on in a South African Hospital (10th Oct 2005)
But the law also caught up with our PROBLEM OF AFRICA.
Fellow Ugandans, let’s stop falling for the semantic traps. To say the Sovereignty Bill is ‘not bad’ but merely a ‘miscalculation’ is a dangerous delusion. There is no ‘miscalculation’ here—Museveni has never miscalculated a day in his life when it comes to consolidating power. This bill arrives draped in the fake cloth of patriotism, but beneath the noble language lies the same old blueprint of tyranny. Just like the destruction of the federo system, the butchering of term and age limits, and the Public Order Management Act, this is a cold, calculated move to cement life-long family rule and institutionalize anarchy. The most agonizing part of this circus? Our so-called Parliament acts as a laundromat, ‘debating’ these poisons only to wash them in legitimacy. When these bills pass, the world thinks we’ve consented to our own enslavement. We are stuck in a loop of ‘business as usual’ while the country bleeds. Look at the facts: more Ugandans have fled into exile during this NUP/Kyagulanyi era than ever before. Now, Museveni is designing laws to surgically sever the diaspora from their own motherland. Is this the ‘People Power’ we were promised? Or is this ‘Kalonde, Kakuume, Kabbanje, just a decorative slogan for passing oppressive laws? We must stop giving a free pass to the opposition. Kyagulanyi and his circle are equal stakeholders in this rot. They are the primary beneficiaries of a system Museveni built to enrich politicians through violent, sham elections. While we blame the autocrat, we must also condemn those who sit at his table, legitimizing a rotten system for their own gain.
Fellow Ugandans, let’s stop sugar-coating this betrayal. To call the Protection of Sovereignty Bill 2026 a ‘miscalculation’ is an insult to our collective intelligence. Museveni doesn’t miscalculate; he targets. This bill isn’t ‘bad form’—it is a surgical strike. Under the guise of ‘patriotism,’ this law is designed to hunt down the diaspora, criminalize true information as ‘economic sabotage’, and effectively ban any policy that hasn’t been pre-approved by the military. It is the final nail in the coffin of our freedoms, following the same bloody path as the removal of term limits and the Public Order Management Act. But let’s be brutally honest: while Ugandans sink deeper into a quagmire of poverty and state-sponsored terror, the political class is feasting. Our Parliament has become a high-priced theater where ‘debates’ are just scripted rituals to legitimize autocracy. They pass these bills, pocket their fat allowances, and leave us to rot. And what about the opposition? Kyagulanyi and his camp are as much a part of this vicious cycle as the man in the hat. Catchphrases like ‘Kalonde, Kakuume, Kabbanje’ have become the bait in a trap. They lead us into sham, violent elections knowing full well the result is ‘business as assault. ‘They aren’t fighting for us; they are competing for a bigger seat at a table that feeds on taxpayers’ blood. They benefit from being the ‘largest opposition party’ because it pays well, not because it changes anything. We must stop being the fuel for their personal enrichment. It is time to hold both sides accountable for maintaining a system that rewards politicians while destroying the nation.
Remase, it is coming to 10 years, after our PROBLEM OF AFRICA told us off on 26th Jan 2017, that he is neither our servant, nor employee; many Ugandans still do not get it!
Not forgetting the “Protection of our Future and Gains respectively; how in the world CAN someone who does not care a straw about us, ALSO Protect our Sovereignty?
Whether we are hearing the same things from the same president/PROBLEM OF AFRICA, as well living in the same country, and get such responses from the Deo of this country, is bewildering.
In other words, since his Authorship and Mastering of Violence in Mozambique; many Ugandans have not yet realized how Mr. Museveni used and continue to use the very Criminal Template he used to ascent to power and formulates some of the laws he criminalizes Ugandans/opposition.
E.g., because he is rabidly sectarian, nepotistic and ethnically tribal by birth, in the hood, he came up with Anti Sectarian Bill and Law. But what is the Practice especially in our State House staffing and lucrative Departments in Govt?
I am sure e.g. he would have gone to the bush if Obote (RIP) had appointed his wife, Miria Obote as Minister of Education and his son, Hon Jimmy Akena as the CDF.
According to this “Protection of Sovereignty”: for 5 years to and from Luweero, who in his/her right state of mind can deny that: on the one hand as a foreigner in Sweden Mr. M7 was shuttling back and forth destabilizing Uganda especially through his Ugandan agents; the Rwandese refugees such as the Kagame of this continent.
And on the other: as a Ugandan agent of “Foreigners’ Interest”, who in his/her right state of mind, can deny that Gen Tibuhaburwa e.g. prostrated before Muhammar Qadhafi (RIP) bootlicked and begged for funds to fund his mayhem in Luweero; and traded it off with e.g., Major Shares in UTL and National Housing and Construction Corporation.?
At whose Sovereignty Interest was Umeme serving?
At whose Sovereignty Interest was the Rift Valley Railways that had swallowed Uganda Railways?
After its liquidation at whose Sovereignty Interest was the Air Uganda that replaced Uganda Airline?
After their liquidation, at whose Sovereignty Interest is Stanbic, KCB and all the foreign based Banks that replaced UCB and the Cooperative Bank
After its liquidation, at whose Sovereignty Interest are all the Hotels that replaced the Chain of Uganda Hotels Ltd. especially in the National Parks? Etc., etc.
Lakwena, your consistency is a rare beacon in this fog of state-sponsored amnesia. You’ve hit the jugular: how can a man who explicitly disavowed being a ‘servant’ or ’employee’ of Ugandans suddenly claim to be the guardian of our sovereignty? It is a farce. Museveni doesn’t care about Uganda’s sovereignty; he cares about his family’s proprietorship. As you’ve brilliantly listed—from the carcass of UTL to the predatory banking sector—our ‘sovereignty’ was bartered away decades ago for the sake of regime survival. Now, we see Kalikumutima trying to polish this ‘Sovereignty Bill’ as a miscalculation, rather than the calculated land-grab it actually is. But the most bitter pill? The opposition. While Kyagulanyi screams ‘People Power,’ the NUP seems more focused on ‘People’s Wealth’—their own. They are falling right into the ‘Kalonde, Kakuume, Kabbanje’ trap, preparing to vote for a bill that secures their positions as the ‘elite opposition’ while the common Ugandan continues to bleed. This isn’t about protecting the nation; it’s about the ruling family and the ‘opposition’ elite fighting over who gets the largest slice of our dying sovereignty.
Furthermore, Lakwena, your historical lens exposes the rot. Museveni’s ‘Sovereignty Bill’ is the ultimate gaslighting of a nation. This is the same man who prostrated before Gaddafi for funds and handed our national assets—Umeme, Stanbic, our hotels—to foreign interests on a silver platter. He isn’t protecting Uganda; he is fencing off a private estate for his wife, his son, and his tribesmen. After our useless parliament debate, Attorney General now proposes the ‘sweeping changes’ which are nothing but fresh paint on a crumbling house. It’s disheartening to see Kalikumutima sugarcoat this, but even worse to see NUP/Kyagulanyi prepare to legitimize this bill in Parliament. By participating in this sham, the opposition [specifically NUP] is merely protecting their own ‘gains’ [largest party in Parliament]—the salaries and status that come with being the ‘leading’ opposition. They’ve swapped ‘Our Power’ for ‘Parliamentary Perks.’ Both sides are now playing the same game: using the word ‘Sovereignty’ to mask a collective greed that has left Ugandans in ‘agonizing endless pain’.
Just do thoroughly background check to find out who benefits directly from most of the privatized properties. You will be shocked to know, it’s mostly Sevos family and inner circles. Game Parks fees, UMEME, Schools, minerals, natural resources, etc. The man knows that his wife, Son and himself will soon be gone. So, he has to protect the ill gotten wealth/companies for his daughters and grandchildren. Fulfilling Janet’s wish lists. He knows that they made broken promises with their darlings or co-partners within and abroad, perhaps they’re pulling out or threaten to. The man is not even ashamed to think that he owns Uganda, so he can ask a “family will” to be done in the name of sovereignty bill. This is like watching “last Dance” of dying tiger. Our founding fathers were more honest, compassionate, with sense of remorse knowing that once they were gone, their deeds would be revaluated or exposed. Does it ever occurs to Sevos and companies that Ugandans are not fools?
“By reducing a complex phenomenon to a numerical cap, the law risks achieving the opposite of its intent: it will deter legitimate capital while failing to detect sophisticated influence.” This has started.
Capital flight out of Uganda has started.