Opinion: Uganda, what have we allowed ourselves to become?.

Written By Mawa Collines, Maracha  East Constituency MP Aspirant.

20-5-2025.

The French philosopher Montesquieu warned us centuries ago: “There is no greater tyranny than that which is perpetrated under the shield of law and in the name of justice.”

And now, here we are.

Our Parliament, in full knowledge of what they were doing, passed an amendment allowing civilians to be tried in military courts. Civilians. In military courts.

This is a chilling, calculated statement. It says to every Ugandan: You are no longer protected by the civilian laws that govern your country. You can be dragged before a military tribunal, designed to maintain command.

And the saddest part? we knew this was coming.

When MPs were handed 100 million shillings, many of us knew the outcome even before the vote. It was never really a debate. It was a transaction.

So the amendment passed.

But let us be honest: this is not just about MPs.

It’s about us.

We, the people who keep voting in individuals who speak of democracy during campaigns and then quietly auction it off once in office. We, who have accepted mediocrity in leadership as long as we get a piece of the handouts. 

We, who look the other way when the constitution is manipulated, because “it doesn’t affect me… yet.”

But one day, it will affect you. You will find yourself, or your son, your daughter, your brother, standing before a military court for a tweet, a protest, a question asked too loudly. 

And you will ask: How did we get here? 

And the answer will be: We were silent when it mattered. We were complicit when we chose comfort over courage. We laughed when they came for others, not knowing we were next.

Ugandans, understand this: silence in the face of constitutional erosion is not neutrality. It is betrayal. Not just of the law, but of ourselves. Of our future. Of our children.

Because one day, when the courtroom becomes a barracks, and the judge wears camouflage, and truth itself is put on trial, we will look back at this moment.

And it will hurt.

But maybe that pain is necessary. Not to destroy us, but to awaken us. To remind us that democracy is not something we inherit. It’s something we defend. Every day. With words. With votes. With courage.

The true battlefield is no longer just in Parliament. It is in our hearts. Our homes. Our WhatsApp groups. Our churches. Our boda stages. It is in the conscience of a people forced to choose between fear and the boldness to say: ENOUGH.