UGANDA CAN’T BUILD A $500B ECONOMY ONE PLOT AT A TIME

For decades, Uganda’s housing strategy has been simple: leave it to the individual.

A Ugandan buys a 50-by-100-foot plot beyond the city and builds slowly. First the foundation, then the walls. The roof may come two years later. Windows and doors follow when other obligations allow.

This model has produced millions of homes. But individual development has reached its limit and is failing to keep pace with urbanisation.

That came into focus during a post-budget dialogue on decent housing hosted by the Uganda Society of Architects. Participants asked whether the national budget and Uganda’s institutions are responding adequately.

The numbers suggest they are not.

"Uganda’s urban population is growing by more than five percent annually. The industry delivers about 60,000 housing units a year against estimated demand of 344,000...

 The country already has a housing deficit of about 2.4 million units, projected to rise to 4.5 million by 2035.

No number of individuals laying one brick at a time can keep pace.

The market worked—up to a point

This column has argued that government’s dismal of some people’s clamouring for rent controls was coreect.

Capping rents and restricting advances would have discouraged investment. Less investment would reduce rental supply and eventually push rents higher—the opposite of what the regulations intended.

As private investment increased, landlords who once demanded a year’s rent in advance began accepting six months, three months and, in some places, one month. Competition was improving the terms.

Dollar rents and punitive advances were symptoms of scarcity. Where demand exceeded supply, landlords held all the cards. Increase supply and power shifts towards tenants.

That logic remains valid. But markets regulate prices only when supply can respond.

Uganda’s individual builder has run into expensive land, costly infrastructure, high taxes, uncertain tenure, short-term finance and fragmented planning.

The next phase of urbanisation cannot be built one plot at a time.

The five-dollar opportunity

This is not only a social challenge. It is a major economic opportunity.

Government wants to grow Uganda’s economy tenfold to about $500 billion by 2040. Real estate should be one of the principal engines of that ambition.

Using the sector’s commonly cited multiplier, every dollar invested in real estate can generate about five dollars in wider economic activity.

A housing project employs professionals, artisans and labourers. It buys local materials and creates business for transporters, banks, insurers, hardware shops and furniture makers. Once occupied, it generates demand for utilities, schools, retail and transport.

"Housing construction has a high employment multiplier, uses substantial domestic materials and can mobilise household savings into long-term productive investment...

Housing is not merely where people sleep. It is an economic production line.

Government has made housing expensive

Government cannot demand affordable housing while making development unaffordable.

Roads, drainage, electricity, water, sewerage and other public goods can account for about 40 percent of development costs. Yet developers are expected to provide them and recover the expense from buyers or tenants.

Residential developers also pay 18 percent VAT on building materials. Because residential sales are generally exempt, that input VAT is not recoverable and becomes a permanent cost.

On sh100 million worth of taxable materials, sh18 million is added before land, finance, labour, professional fees and profit.

Government then wonders why developers build for the wealthy.

About 76 percent of Ugandans can afford homes valued at only sh12 million to sh24 million, while a formal starter house costs about sh150 million. An estimated 96 percent cannot afford the cheapest standard house produced by formal developers.

That is not merely an affordability gap. It is a market-design failure.

A private house, a communal asset

"Housing must stop being treated as merely a private responsibility.

It is a public obligation, an economic necessity and increasingly a security and safety issue...

Unplanned urbanisation produces flooding, congestion, crime and unsafe settlements. Factories appear next to homes. Roads and drainage arrive only after thousands have settled.

The house may be privately owned, but much of its value is communal. It comes from roads, drainage, sewerage, electricity, schools, security and orderly land use.

Uganda needs more housing cooperatives, condominiums, land pooling and public land banking. Neighbouring landowners should combine plots rather than develop independently.

Zoning must also be enforced. Productive cities cannot emerge where factories, schools, warehouses and residences are mixed without regard to safety or infrastructure.

Government must become a participant

Government must move beyond being a catalytic agent.

It should become a direct participant—not necessarily by laying every brick, but by assembling land, installing infrastructure, supplying patient capital, guaranteeing projects and partnering with institutional developers.

Resolving the uncertainty around Libya’s shareholding in National Housing and Construction Corporation is central to this shift. The dispute has constrained government’s ability to recapitalise NHCC and use it as a national housing-delivery vehicle.

Once resolved, NHCC should develop serviced land, rental housing, apartments and affordable units in the tens of thousands, not a few hundred expensive houses.

There are encouraging signs. Government has capitalised Uganda Development Bank by about sh1.6 trillion over five years and earmarked another sh440 billion, some of which is expected to support real estate developers.

But the scale must be greater.

Uganda’s commercial banks cannot finance this transformation alone. A single development may require sh80 billion, forcing banks to syndicate.

The country needs housing bonds, mortgage refinancing, pension-fund participation and specialised long-term finance.

"Tax relief should expand supply rather than subsidise individual buyers. Government can service land, reduce taxes on affordable-housing inputs and support developers capable of producing thousands of units.

The Uganda Society of Architects’ post-budget dialogue was about whether Uganda understands that real estate is also a growth, productivity, safety and national-development issue.

To build a $500 billion economy, Uganda must start building at institutional scale.

MTN UGANDA H1 PROFIT JUMPS 38 PCT TO SHS367.5b

MTN Uganda’s profit after tax jumped 37.7 percent to Shs367.5 billion in the first half of 2026, from Shs267.0 billion in the corresponding period last year, helped by growth in data and mobile money revenues and a significantly lower tax charge.

Total revenue increased 9.7 percent to Shs1.89 trillion from Shs1.72 trillion, while service revenue grew 9.4 percent to Shs1.87 trillion. Data revenue rose 15.6 percent to Shs566.8 billion and fintech revenue increased 10.7 percent to Shs580.6 billion. Voice revenue grew more modestly, up 1.8 percent to Shs640.4 billion.

“MTN Uganda delivered a solid performance in the first half of 2026, with improving momentum in the second quarter, as the business recovered from the disruptions experienced earlier in the year,” MTN Uganda Chief Executive Officer Sylvia Mulinge said.

MTN Uganda H1 financial summary

Financial indicator	H1 2026	H1 2025	Change
Total revenue	Shs1.888tn	Shs1.722tn	+9.7%
Service revenue	Shs1.866tn	Shs1.705tn	+9.4%
Data revenue	Shs566.8bn	Shs490.2bn	+15.6%
Voice revenue	Shs640.4bn	Shs629.0bn	+1.8%
Fintech revenue	Shs580.6bn	Shs524.6bn	+10.7%
EBITDA	Shs967.5bn	Shs924.2bn	+4.7%
EBITDA margin	51.2%	53.7%	-2.5pp
Profit before tax	Shs525.1bn	Shs543.8bn	-3.4%
Profit after tax	Shs367.5bn	Shs267.0bn	+37.7%
PAT margin	19.5%	15.5%	+4.0pp
Capex	Shs455.1bn	Shs279.7bn	+62.7%
Earnings per share	Shs16.4	Shs11.9	+37.8%

MTN’s EBITDA grew 4.7 percent to Shs967.5 billion, although its EBITDA margin narrowed to 51.2 percent from 53.7 percent as total expenses increased 15.1 percent. The margin nevertheless remained above the company’s medium-term target of 50 percent.

The strong PAT growth came despite profit before tax declining 3.4 percent to Shs525.1 billion from Shs543.8 billion. MTN said its tax charge fell 43.1 percent, reflecting the effect of a one-off transfer-pricing settlement in the previous year. The lower tax expense helped lift the net profit margin to 19.5 percent from 15.5 percent.

The company continued to benefit from increased use of data and digital financial services. Its overall subscriber base rose 11.2 percent to 25.4 million, while active data subscribers increased 16.3 percent to 12.6 million and fintech users grew 11.5 percent to 14.8 million.

Mobile money transaction volumes increased 9.5 percent to 2.6 billion transactions, while their value jumped 26.8 percent to Shs113.3 trillion. MTN's fintech agent network grew 23.8 percent to 270,500.

Investment also accelerated sharply during the period. Capital expenditure increased 62.7 percent to Shs455.1 billion, while capex excluding leases rose 44.6 percent to Shs317.7 billion. MTN deployed 224 network sites, increasing 4G population coverage to 93.3 percent from 88.2 percent and 5G coverage to 25.6 percent from 19 percent.

Shs8.75 dividend declared

The stronger earnings will translate into another payout to shareholders. MTN Uganda’s board declared a Q2 2026 interim dividend of Shs8.75 per share, equivalent to Shs195.9 billion.

The latest declaration takes total dividends for the first half of 2026 to Shs17.25 per share, or Shs386.2 billion. MTN said the payout reflected the strength of its earnings, cash generation and balance sheet.

The book closure date is September 1, 2026, while the dividend will be paid on Friday, September 18, 2026, subject to withholding tax. Payments will be transferred electronically to shareholders’ bank accounts or mobile money wallets.

Looking ahead, MTN maintained its medium-term guidance for upper-teen service revenue growth, EBITDA margins above 50 percent and capex intensity in the mid-teens as it continues investing in network capacity and expanding its fintech business.

ITS NOT THE ECONOMY, ITS LACK OF HOSPITALITY

BOOK REVIEW: UNREASONABLE HOSPITALITY: THE REMARKABLE POWER OF GIVING PEOPLE MORE THAN THEY EXPECT

Author: Will Guidara                    

                

Years ago, I walked into a restaurant and ordered a meal.

The waitress took my order and disappeared. Twenty minutes later, there was no food. Another waiter assured me it was coming. Fifteen minutes later, the original waitress returned and explained, without irony, that the person responsible for making my dish had gone somewhere.

Apparently, in a restaurant full of waiters, cooks and supervisors, only one human being had been authorised by the gods to make a grilled chicken breast.

I left without eating.

The owner probably went home and complained that business was slow because the economy was bad.

This is one of our favourite explanations for poor business performance. Customers have no money. Taxes are too high. Government is not helping. Interest rates are punishing.

All may be true. But sometimes it is not the economy that is wanting. It is your customer service.

This is the central lesson I took from Will Guidara’s Unreasonable Hospitality

. Guidara built his career in New York’s restaurant industry, but this is not really a book about restaurants. It is about business, leadership and making people feel seen...

You may run a bank, clinic, garage, supermarket, law firm, school or government office. The product may change, but the question remains: how do people feel after dealing with you?

Guidara’s restaurant sought greatness not simply by serving good food, but by creating a culture of connection, graciousness and belonging. The aim was to make employees and customers feel valued.

When products are similar and prices easily compared, customer experience becomes a competitive advantage. Customers may forget the interest rate you quoted or the flavour of the sauce. They will remember how your organisation made them feel...

Ugandan businesses frequently invest heavily in appearances and poorly in experience.

We import furniture, install shiny tiles and dress staff in smart uniforms. Then the receptionist scrolls through her phone while a customer waits. Calls go unanswered. Complaints are treated as acts of aggression.

Guidara distinguishes between luxury and hospitality. Luxury means giving people more. Hospitality means being more thoughtful.

A roadside restaurant can therefore offer better hospitality than an expensive hotel. It may remember your name and prepare your food the way you like it. The hotel may have chandeliers and a receptionist trained to avoid eye contact.

It is answering the phone, keeping a promise and explaining a delay before the customer asks. It is noticing that an elderly client should not stand in a queue. It is empowering an employee to solve a small problem without seeking permission from seven supervisors.

One of the book’s most useful ideas is Guidara’s test for organisational rules: does the rule bring the business closer to connecting with people, or take it further away?

Many rules are designed for the institution’s convenience, not the customer’s.

The customer must photocopy a document already in the company’s system. The client travels across town to sign a form that could have been emailed. The cashier cannot correct a mistake because the supervisor is at lunch.

Every employee may have followed procedure. The customer has still been lost.

Guidara does not argue that hospitality should replace commercial discipline. He insists on understanding the business, setting standards and holding people accountable.

His formula is memorable: manage 95 percent of the business carefully, then use the remaining five percent to do something memorable.

That five percent is not permission to waste money. It creates room for initiative—to surprise a customer, solve a problem or turn an ordinary transaction into a story the customer will repeat.

A delighted customer brings friends.

The book also contains a lesson many businesses resist: the customer’s perception is the organisation’s reality...

When customers complain, our instinct is to defend ourselves. We explain that the system was down, the supplier delayed or the manager was unavailable.

These explanations may be accurate. They do not change the customer’s experience.

Guidara observes that people often want to be heard more than agreed with. Saying sorry is not necessarily an admission of fault. It acknowledges a poor experience.

Unreasonable Hospitality is not perfect. Many examples come from elite New York restaurants, far removed from the average Ugandan business. Some gestures are difficult to reproduce.

But the principles travel well.

Pay attention. Train your people. Listen. Keep your promises. Sweat the small details. Give employees authority to solve problems.

The Ugandan economy will never be perfect. Taxes will remain a complaint. Customers will want lower prices. Competition will intensify.

But even in a difficult economy, money continues to change hands.

The question is whether it will change hands in your business.

UGANDA'S PEARL BANK AT ONE: NOW COMES THE REAL WORK

A year ago, PostBank became Pearl Bank.

For many, it was a branding event. New name. New colours. New signage.

But in Uganda’s banking history, the consumer usually notices change before the policy people do.

There was a time when banking was what happened before lunch. Then Greenland Bank opened beyond lunchtime and on Saturdays. Suddenly, the customer mattered.

Then came the ATM. Online banking moved the branch from the high street to the desktop and later to the phone. Then mobile money arrived and blew up the old assumptions altogether.

Electronic money transactions in Uganda rose 28 percent from sh285.9 trillion in 2024 to sh366 trillion in 2025. Uganda’s nominal GDP is about sh250.4 trillion. In other words, more money now moves through digital rails than the economy produces in a year.

That is the world into which Pearl Bank has been reborn.

"The question is not whether Pearl Bank can become a good bank. The question is whether it can become a strategic bank...

I say this as someone instinctively sceptical of government-owned enterprises. No surprise there. I cut my teeth as a business reporter covering privatisation in the 1990s. We saw what political interference, weak governance, overstaffing and patronage did to state enterprises. By the time many were sold, they were not companies so much as carcasses.

And yet one must be intellectually honest.

Pearl Bank’s numbers suggest government ownership need not automatically mean failure. Last year profit after tax rose 34 percent to sh47.3b. Assets grew 31 percent to sh1.87 trillion. Customer deposits rose 43 percent to sh1.42 trillion. Wendi wallet balances jumped from sh45.5b to sh240.5b, a fivefold surge.

These are not small numbers. They show an institution whose balance sheet is becoming capable of carrying a bigger national assignment.

The trick now is to keep the sharks at bay.

Every successful public institution attracts interests that want to turn it into a feeding trough. The defence is governance: strong board, professional management, disclosure, regulatory vigilance, clear targets and no sacred cows.

This is where Uganda can learn from Asia.

In How Asia Works

, Joe Studwell shows how Japan, South Korea and Taiwan used finance as a tool of national transformation. Japan did not have to own every bank. It incentivised and disciplined banks to support long-term national strategy: build productive capacity, raise exports and earn foreign exchange. Credit was pushed towards national capability...

Uganda needs that discipline.

Pearl Bank can be the tip of the spear in supporting the government’s broader ATMS agenda — agro-industrialisation, tourism development, mineral development, and science, technology and innovation.

But ambition requires capital.

Government can inject capital, but the more interesting possibility is listing Pearl Bank on the Uganda Securities Exchange.

Bank of Baroda had listed before Stanbic, but Stanbic’s listing was a watershed because it allowed ordinary Ugandans to participate in the growth of a bank, not merely queue in one. Stanbic listed at sh70 a share in 2007. Today it trades around sh80. But after bonus issues that effectively multiplied the original holding about ten times, one old sh70 share is worth roughly sh800 before dividends.

Pearl Bank can do the same with an even more national mission. A listing would raise long-term capital, widen ownership and impose market discipline.

Then there is Wendi.

This may yet prove to be Pearl Bank’s most important strategic asset because it sits directly in the mobile money growth trajectory.

Mobile money started as a convenience. Send money home. Pay someone quickly. Avoid the bus park courier. Then it became a payments platform: school fees, utilities, taxes, merchant payments, savings, credit, group collections and cross-border flows.

In less than two decades, the phone has become Uganda’s most important financial access point.

That is the opportunity Wendi must ride.

Wendi is not just another wallet trying to imitate telecom-led mobile money. Properly positioned, it can become the bridge between the velocity of mobile money and the balance sheet strength of a regulated bank.

Mobile money has proved that Ugandans will transact digitally at scale. What remains is to convert that behaviour into savings, credit histories, investable deposits and productive finance. Wendi already has about two million users and wallet balances of sh240.5b. Add more than 13,000 Wendi agents, 59 ATMs, 59 branches and 14 mobile vans, and the possibility becomes clearer...

If Pearl Bank can capture even a small share of the sh366 trillion now moving annually through electronic money rails, retain part of it as savings and intermediate it prudently, it can create a low-cost funding pool for farmers, traders, tourism operators, mineral service providers, innovators and SMEs.

That is how a wallet becomes a development tool.

One year after the rebrand, Pearl Bank deserves to celebrate. But not for too long.

The first year was about identity. The next phase must be about scale, discipline and national impact.

Uganda does not need Pearl Bank merely to be another profitable bank. It needs Pearl Bank to prove that a government-owned financial institution can be commercially disciplined, digitally ambitious, well governed and developmentally useful.

If it can do that, the rebrand will be remembered as the moment Uganda began to build a financial spearhead for its next phase of transformation.

WHEN PUBLIC SERVICE BECOMES A LIFETIME CLAIM ON THE TAXPAYER

Former Members of Parliament have apparently discovered that life after Parliament can be a rude awakening.

The phone stops ringing as often. At public functions, nobody is scrambling to find them a front-row seat. They may even have to queue like “mere mortals”, the people whose laws they once passed.

This, according to reports, has become a national emergency.

The Association of Parliamentary Alumni of Uganda is asking for formal identification cards, official recognition and monthly allowances of between sh10m and sh15m. Former MPs argue that they are sometimes disrespected in public and should enjoy benefits comparable to those provided to former presidents, Speakers and judges.

The association says the proposed arrangement would be contributory. It is not asking for houses, vehicles or domestic workers.

How restrained.

To be fair, there may be a legitimate discussion about retirement arrangements for MPs who served before the present parliamentary pension scheme was established. If some legislators served for years under a system that made no provision for their old age, there is room to examine the matter.

"But sh10m to sh15m a month is not a retirement discussion.

It is an entitlement discussion...

Assuming only 500 former MPs qualified, the scheme would cost between sh60b and sh90b every year. If 800 former legislators qualified, the annual bill would rise to between sh96b and sh144b.

That is before administration, medical benefits and the inevitable demand to increase the allowance whenever inflation bites or serving MPs review their own pay.

And we know how these things work. A scheme begins as “contributory,” develops a funding gap and eventually turns up at the Treasury asking for a bailout. What starts as recognition becomes a permanent charge on taxpayers who were never invited to the meeting at which the benefit was designed.

The average Ugandan approaching retirement is told to rely on savings, children, a small garden, a SACCO or whatever remains of the family business. He is reminded that government cannot provide pensions for everybody.

The former MP, however, wants sh15m every month, an identity card and official recognition to protect him from the indignity of being treated like an ordinary citizen.

You cannot make this stuff up.

Ugandans are already carrying a heavy public wage bill, rising debt-service costs, domestic arrears and endless demands from schools, hospitals, roads and local governments. Every department says it is underfunded. Every district has an unfinished health centre. Every ministry has unpaid suppliers.

Into this situation walks the former MP, asking the taxpayer to maintain the lifestyle and status that came with an elective office that has expired.

This column warned in 2019 that Uganda was headed down a slippery slope. The danger begins when leadership stops being understood as temporary public service and starts being treated as membership of a permanent privileged class.

Once elected or appointed to high office, the official begins to believe that the public owes him not only a salary while he serves, but security, medical care, transport, housing and allowances long after he has left.

Public office becomes less of a duty and more of an investment product.

You put in five years and expect a lifetime annuity.

"This is how extractive institutions are built. They do not emerge overnight. They grow allowance by allowance, privilege by privilege and exemption by exemption...

Drawing on the lessons of Why Nations Fail, inclusive institutions distribute opportunity widely and encourage citizens to work, invest and create. Extractive institutions organise the state around transferring resources to those with access to political power.

The elite redesign government around themselves. They receive subsidised vehicles, generous medical insurance, travel allowances, sitting allowances, fuel allowances, retirement packages and special access to public facilities.

The ordinary citizen is given a speech about hard work.

This is why the proposal has attracted so much anger online. Many Ugandans have asked why former MPs cannot live off their savings, investments or businesses. Others suggest that they join the Parish Development Model, Emyooga or the other wealth-creation programmes Parliament has approved for ordinary people.

That sarcasm is not entirely misplaced.

MPs are the best-paid public officials in the country. Their positions provide access to networks, information, influence and business opportunities unavailable to most citizens.

"If, after five or ten years in that privileged position, a former MP cannot secure his financial future, what does that say about the financial advice Parliament has been giving the rest of us?

Perhaps former MPs need an Unco Money seminar.

The case for special recognition is equally shaky.

Respect cannot be legislated. An identity card may get a former MP through a security checkpoint, but it cannot force the public to admire him. Respect is earned by what one did with the opportunity to serve.

Some MPs will be remembered for defending the public interest and speaking when silence would have been safer. Others will be remembered for sleeping through debates, rubber-stamping waste and appearing in their constituencies shortly before elections.

The public is entitled to distinguish between the two.

Former MPs argue that their experience remains valuable. That may be true. They can advise political parties, mentor younger leaders, teach, write, join corporate boards, work in civil society or conduct civic education.

If their knowledge is useful, society will find a place for it. A former title is not proof of continuing usefulness...

There is also a dangerous assumption that retirement must preserve the lifestyle of office. It does not. Retirement requires adjustment. Income falls. Consumption must follow. The suit may remain, but the constituency allowance goes.

A sensible solution would be a properly funded contributory pension scheme for serving MPs. Members should set aside a meaningful portion of their generous earnings while in office. Those who served before the current pension arrangements may receive modest, targeted support, particularly for healthcare and genuine hardship.

But Uganda should resist another open-ended welfare scheme for the political class.

The country does not suffer from a shortage of former leaders. It suffers from poor public services, low household incomes and insufficient investment in the things that would make ordinary citizens more productive.

Public service should be honoured.

But it should not become a lifetime invoice sent to the public.

SOUTH AFRICA’S XENOPHOBIA IS THE BILL FOR A BROKEN PROMISE

South Africa’s latest xenophobia—they call it Afrophobia now, flare-up appears, at first glance, to be about foreigners.

It is not.

Foreigners are simply the easiest target. They run the spaza shop. They sell on the pavement. They compete in the informal economy. They are visible in communities where unemployment, poverty and frustration have become daily realities.

But the anger is not really about them. It is about a promise made in 1994 that remains largely unfulfilled.

Political freedom arrived. Economic freedom did not.

"When apartheid ended, South Africa faced a historic challenge: how to dismantle centuries of economic exclusion that doomed the black majority to serfdom and give them a genuine chance at climbing the social ladder...

Apartheid had not only denied people the vote. It had denied them land, quality education, capital, networks, decent housing and the ability to accumulate wealth across generations.

The new democratic state therefore needed urgency.

It needed to build schools that worked and boost job creation by expanding infrastructure, support entrepreneurs and ensure that millions who had been deliberately excluded could participate meaningfully in the economy.

Because political freedom without economic progress was always going to create disappointment.

Black Economic Empowerment was part of that response. It was necessary. A country that had excluded black people from ownership and leadership could not simply pretend the past did not exist.

But BEE was never going to solve everything.

A few people entering boardrooms could not compensate for millions of children receiving poor education. A handful of black billionaires could not transform communities where unemployment remained high, electricity unreliable and small businesses struggled to survive.

The problem was not that some black South Africans became wealthy. Every functioning economy creates winners. The problem was that too many people saw no realistic path to becoming one of them.

That is where resentment grows. Inequality becomes dangerous when people believe the ladder has been removed...

And South Africa is not merely unequal. It is almost in a category of its own.

The World Bank has ranked it as the most unequal country in the world, while the World Inequality Database shows that the richest 10 percent take roughly two-thirds of national income, leaving the bottom half with only a tiny share. In Sweden, by contrast, the bottom half takes about a quarter of national income.

That comparison matters.

It shows that South Africa’s problem is not just poverty. It is the architecture of opportunity. In a more normal society, inequality can be softened by the belief that the system is open, schools work, capital is accessible and effort can still move a family from the bottom to the middle. In South Africa, too many people do not see that path.

The legacy of apartheid did not end with apartheid.

It compounded.

It compounded through land ownership. It compounded through education. It compounded through access to capital. It compounded through where people lived, which schools they attended, what networks they could enter and what assets their parents could pass on.

That is why South Africa’s Gini coefficient remains among the highest ever recorded for a major economy. This is not accidental inequality. It is inherited inequality, reinforced over time.

A poor person can accept that someone else has a bigger house or a better car if they believe their own child has a fair chance of achieving the same. But when opportunity appears reserved for those with political connections, wealth begins to look less like success and more like privilege.

This is the uncomfortable reality of post-apartheid South Africa.

The country moved from a system where race determined economic opportunity to one where political access often became a powerful advantage. The rise of a connected black elite was an important correction to apartheid exclusion, but it also created a new frustration among ordinary citizens who feel they were left behind....

Many fought for liberation together. Yet decades later, some live in first-world luxury while others continue to  grovel under sub-human conditions.

That gap is politically explosive.

The statistics explain the anger.

South Africa’s unemployment rate remains among the highest in the world, with young people carrying the heaviest burden. Millions of young South Africans have grown up after apartheid, hearing that freedom had arrived, only to discover that economic opportunity remains painfully limited.

They see politicians and businesspeople with access and influence moving ahead while they struggle to find work.

Then someone tells them the problem is the foreigner.

And the match is lit.

"This is why xenophobia keeps returning. It is not because migrants suddenly become the cause of South Africa’s problems. It is because they become a convenient explanation for problems that are much deeper...

The foreign shopkeeper becomes a symbol of economic frustration.

The reality is more complicated. Migrants are a small share of South Africa’s population, and there is little evidence that they are responsible for unemployment, crime or failing public services. Many migrants are simply doing what South Africa has struggled to encourage enough of its own citizens to do: start small businesses, take risks and compete in difficult conditions.

The tragedy is that their success often becomes a source of anger rather than a lesson.

A society with millions of unemployed young people cannot survive on blame. It needs opportunity.

When leaders fail to provide answers, scapegoats become attractive.

This is where politics enters.

The African National Congress (ANC), once the unquestioned symbol of liberation, has lost much of its dominance. Its loss of a parliamentary majority in the 2024 election reflected growing public frustration with unemployment, corruption and poor service delivery.

A weakened liberation movement faces a difficult temptation: to explain failure or to distract from it.

"foreigner becomes useful because he shifts attention away from the broken municipality, the failed school, the corrupt tender and the political insider who became wealthy without creating broad prosperity...

But South Africa cannot build a future by attacking people who are also trying to survive.

The real challenge remains the same one that existed in 1994: turning political freedom into economic mobility.

And like every unpaid bill, the longer it is ignored, the more painful the final payment becomes.

UGANDA'S HARD RESET: THE POLITICS WE WANTED, BUT MAY NOT LIKE

Recent events in Uganda should give every Ugandan pause for thought.

Veteran opposition leader Dr. Kizza Besigye has now spent more than a year in custody on treason charges. The government has indefinitely suspended more than a dozen NGOs accused of pursuing a regime-change agenda. Senior politicians including Erias Lukwago, Muwanga Kivumbi and Miria Matembe have been arrested and later arraigned on charges ranging from computer misuse to misprision of treason. Meanwhile, opposition leader Robert Kyagulanyi, popularly known as Bobi Wine, remains in self-imposed exile.

Taken individually, each case has its own legal and political context. Taken together, however, they suggest Uganda is entering a different political era.

Many analysts see these developments as part of General Muhoozi Kainerugaba's efforts to consolidate authority ahead of an eventual succession from President Yoweri Museveni. Whether or not that proves correct, the direction of travel is becoming difficult to ignore. Uganda appears to be moving away from the relatively laissez-faire politics that has characterised much of the last three decades towards a far more disciplined—and less permissive—political order.

Museveni's Contradiction

Ironically, that shift may be the inevitable consequence of President Museveni's greatest political achievement.

For nearly four decades, Museveni has successfully managed a chaotic political elite. Rather than eliminate competing centres of power, he balanced them. Patronage, accommodation and political flexibility became instruments of survival.

It worked.

Uganda has enjoyed political continuity unmatched in its post-independence history. The economy has expanded several-fold. Exports have grown from less than US$1 billion in the mid-1990s to over US$13 billion today. Electricity generation, roads, telecommunications and financial inclusion have all improved dramatically.

But flexibility came at a cost.

A system held together by personalities rather than institutions inevitably breeds patronage. Patronage breeds impunity. Impunity breeds corruption.

Many of Uganda's frustrations—from delayed infrastructure and procurement scandals to ballooning domestic arrears—reflect a political order where maintaining coalitions often mattered more than enforcing discipline.

Museveni mastered managing disorder. His successor may conclude that governing Uganda now requires creating order.

The Political Elite's Biggest Mistake

It would be a mistake to see the current moment simply as an assault on the opposition.

The bigger story is that Uganda's entire political elite has reached the limits of its usefulness.

Across both government and opposition, politics has increasingly become personality-driven rather than programme-driven. Politicians have become experts at attracting headlines but remarkably poor at building durable institutions capable of mobilising citizens around coherent agendas.

The opposition, in particular, has fallen victim to a dangerous illusion.

It has mistaken popularity for power.

Large crowds, social media engagement and favourable public sentiment create the impression of overwhelming support. But political power is built much like wealth—it compounds slowly through years of disciplined investment.

Successful political movements recruit village by village. They organise polling agents. They raise money continuously. They train leaders, build local structures and remain active between elections. Above all, they require enormous sacrifice—of time, comfort, careers and resources.

Too much of Uganda's political class has assumed that public frustration would somehow translate into political change without making those long-term investments.

The consequence has been predictable.

Instead of building organisations capable of compelling government to respond to national priorities—or ultimately convincing it to step aside—they have relied on momentum, emotion and hope. Hope is not a political strategy any more than wishing is an investment strategy.

Meanwhile, those within the ruling establishment have devoted increasing energy to succession politics and patronage instead of confronting Uganda's structural challenges.

The conversation should be about improving schools, raising agricultural productivity, eliminating domestic arrears, industrialising exports and preparing Uganda for a post-oil economy. Instead, politics has become consumed by personalities, arrests and intrigue.

A fragmented political elite that cannot marshal disciplined constituencies around ideas is far easier to control than one rooted in strong institutions.

We Want Rwanda's Results Without Rwanda's Discipline

Ugandans frequently admire Rwanda's clean cities, efficient public institutions and ability to implement policy.

What we rarely acknowledge is that discipline did not emerge accidentally.

Whether one agrees with Rwanda's methods or not, its achievements rest upon an uncompromising insistence that rules matter.

Yet many Ugandans want the outcomes without paying the price.

We condemn corruption but resist enforcement. We demand efficient institutions while opposing tighter regulation. We admire Singapore and Rwanda but forget that order always requires discipline.

There are no free lunches in economics.

There are none in governance either.

The Foreign Guardrails Are Fading

There is another reason this moment feels different.

For years Uganda's political freedoms existed partly because foreign donors possessed considerable leverage. Aid dependence gave Western governments influence whenever governance concerns arose.

That leverage is weakening.

Domestic revenues have grown substantially. Oil revenues are approaching. Alternative geopolitical partners have reduced Kampala's dependence on traditional donors.

The uncomfortable truth is that some of the freedoms we assumed were permanently guaranteed rested less on strong domestic institutions than on external pressure. As those pressures diminish, governments inevitably become more willing to define political boundaries on their own terms.

The Hard Reset

Uganda is approaching a hard reset.

Many citizens have long demanded a more effective state—one that implements projects on time, punishes corruption and delivers better services. Achieving those goals will almost certainly require a more disciplined political system than the one Museveni spent four decades managing.

The risk is that discipline imposed from above can easily become coercion if it is not restrained by strong institutions and the rule of law.

The opportunity is that Uganda finally addresses the disorder that has allowed corruption, inefficiency and weak accountability to flourish.

Whether this transition ultimately strengthens or weakens the country will depend not simply on who holds power, but on whether order is used to build institutions instead of merely consolidating authority.

One thing, however, seems increasingly clear.

The Uganda of the next decade is unlikely to resemble the Uganda of the last four.

A hard reset is coming.

Many of us have spent years demanding a more disciplined state. We may soon discover that history has answered that demand.

The only question is whether we will like the answer.