VOTES have been cast in Uganda, under conditions that international observers have characterised as fundamentally incompatible with free and fair elections, as 81-year-old President Yoweri Museveni seeks to extend his iron grip on power into a fifth decade against the backdrop of systematic repression, widespread violence, and a government-imposed internet blackout.
The election represents a critical rematch between Museveni and his primary challenger, 43-year-old pop star-turned-opposition leader Robert Kyagulanyi, known as Bobi Wine, who has galvanised millions of young Ugandans with promises to dismantle what he characterises as a brutal dictatorship. Yet the contest unfolds under circumstances that reveal the profound erosion of democratic norms in a country that has never witnessed a peaceful transfer of power since its independence six decades ago.
The counting of the vote has started in the shadow of the state violence that characterised the period leading to and during the election. The campaign period has been marked by what Amnesty International describes as a brutal campaign of repression against the opposition. Security forces have repeatedly deployed tear gas, pepper spray, and physical violence against Wine’s supporters, with hundreds arrested and at least one person killed at campaign events. Wine himself now campaigns in a flak jacket and helmet – stark symbols of the physical danger facing those who dare challenge Museveni’s authority.
In December, Wine and his supporters were attacked and beaten by security forces while campaigning in Gulu. The UN Human Rights Office has raised alarms about widespread repression and intimidation against the political opposition, human rights defenders, and journalists. The pattern mirrors the violence of the 2021 election, when security forces killed more than 50 opposition supporters, and up to 3,000 people were abducted.
On New Year’s Eve, Museveni himself recommended that security forces use more tear gas against what he called “the criminal opposition,” defending the practice with the chilling rationale that tear gas “doesn’t kill” and is “much better than using live bullets.”
Digital Darkness: The Internet Shutdown
Perhaps nothing better illustrates the government’s determination to control the electoral narrative than the internet blackout imposed two days before voting began. The Uganda Communications Commission ordered mobile network operators to suspend public internet access starting Tuesday evening, citing concerns about misinformation and electoral fraud—a justification that international human rights organisations have dismissed as pretextual.
The UN Human Rights Office emphasised that open access to communication and information is essential to free and genuine elections. Yet the blackout effectively silenced independent reporting, hampered citizen observation efforts, and prevented opposition supporters from coordinating poll monitoring activities. The measure creates an information vacuum that favours the incumbent, who controls state media and security apparatus.
A Flawed Process from the Start
Thursday’s voting was plagued by delays that opposition leaders characterised as deliberate sabotage. Polling stations across the country opened late, with electoral materials delivered hours after the scheduled 7 a.m. start time. Biometric voter identification machines malfunctioned at numerous locations, forcing voters to wait for hours or preventing them from casting ballots altogether.
David Lewis Rubongoya, secretary general of the National Unity Platform, told reporters that the chaos was “a sham and it is deliberate,” noting that problems were concentrated in opposition strongholds rather than areas where the military votes. The delays appeared designed to suppress turnout in urban centres where Wine commands overwhelming support, particularly among the country’s predominantly young population.
The Generational Divide
The election’s deeper significance lies in the demographic reality that more than 70 percent of Uganda’s 50 million people are under age 35—meaning the vast majority of citizens have known only one president in their lifetimes. For this generation, which faces chronic unemployment, limited economic opportunities, and systemic corruption, Museveni represents an ossified ancien régime that has monopolised power and resources for four decades.
Wine has successfully mobilised this youthful discontent, drawing massive crowds with his promise to build “a new Uganda” that prioritises political freedoms, tackles endemic corruption, and creates genuine economic opportunities. In the 2021 election, Wine secured more than half of his 3.5 million votes from central Uganda alone, decisively defeating Museveni in all Kampala constituencies and throughout the Buganda region.
Yet despite this clear evidence of popular support, particularly among urban youth, few observers believe Wine can overcome the structural advantages Museveni has constructed through four decades of authoritarian rule. The president controls the military, police, electoral commission, and judiciary—institutions that have been systematically aligned to ensure regime continuity.
The Machinery of Electoral Autocracy
Museveni’s durability reflects sophisticated authoritarian engineering. After seizing power in 1986 through armed rebellion, he has methodically eliminated constitutional constraints on his rule, removing presidential term limits in 2005 and age limits in 2017. His National Resistance Movement party dominates Parliament, enabling the legal architecture of indefinite rule.
Western Uganda, Museveni’s home region, consistently delivers margins exceeding 90 percent—a product of both genuine support rooted in ethnic solidarity and patronage networks, as well as systematic intimidation. Major infrastructure projects, including oil and gas development in Hoima and construction of the Kabalega International Airport, have reinforced the president’s appeal in these areas.
The Electoral Commission’s independence has been repeatedly questioned. Its chairman, Simon Byabakama, presides over a process that international observers—including the European Union in 2021—have characterised as fundamentally flawed due to internet blackouts, harassment of opposition leaders, media suppression, and restrictions on independent monitoring.
The Succession Question
Adding another layer of complexity to these elections is the increasingly prominent role of Museveni’s son, General Muhoozi Kainerugaba, who serves as Chief of Defence Forces. The younger Museveni is widely viewed as being groomed for hereditary succession—a prospect that would transform Uganda from electoral autocracy to dynastic rule.
Kainerugaba’s erratic social media presence, which has included threats of violence against opposition leaders and open declarations of presidential ambitions, has created anxiety even within the ruling party. In May 2025, he publicly boasted of personally torturing Wine’s chief bodyguard, Eddie Mutwe, who had been abducted days earlier—a chilling revelation that exemplifies the impunity enjoyed by the regime’s inner circle.
Strategic Value and Western Complicity
Despite documented human rights abuses and electoral fraud, Museveni retains strategic value for Western governments. Uganda has deployed troops to regional trouble spots, including Somalia, hosted millions of refugees, and recently agreed to accept deportees from the United States. These geopolitical considerations have muted criticism from international partners who might otherwise apply more pressure for democratic reforms.
The Trump administration has instructed U.S. diplomats not to comment on the integrity of foreign elections—a reversal from 2021, when the United States explicitly denounced Museveni’s victory as neither free nor fair. This shift in American policy removes an important source of external accountability at precisely the moment when it is most needed.
Regional Patterns of Democratic Backsliding
Uganda’s election reflects broader patterns of democratic erosion across East Africa. Tanzania’s October 2025 elections featured tight restrictions on opposition campaigning, followed by unprecedented levels of abductions, arrests, and killings of opposition supporters—developments that were obscured by official claims of 98 percent support for incumbent President Samia Suluhu Hassan. Kenya has experienced deadly anti-government demonstrations in recent years.
This regional normalisation of electoral violence and manipulation represents a fundamental challenge to democratic governance across the continent. East African governments have increasingly coordinated their repression of opposition movements and civil society organisations, sharing tactics and sometimes directly assisting one another in suppressing dissent.
The Question of Legitimacy
With approximately 21.6 million registered voters—less than half of the country’s population—and historically declining turnout rates that fell to 59 percent in 2021 from around 70 percent in 2006, the election faces a legitimacy crisis beyond questions of fraud and violence. Many Ugandans, particularly educated urbanites, have lost faith in the electoral process as a mechanism for genuine political change.
The systematic delays, biometric machine failures, and internet blackout on election day appear calculated to further depress turnout in opposition strongholds. When citizens cannot access information, cannot communicate with poll monitoring organisations, and must wait hours in line due to “technical problems,” the cumulative effect is democratic disengagement—precisely what authoritarian regimes seek to achieve.
What Wine Represents
Despite the overwhelming structural obstacles, Bobi Wine has emerged as a powerful symbol of resistance and generational change. His transformation from pop star to political leader—and his willingness to endure beatings, detentions, tear gas attacks, and even being shot in the leg by police two years ago—has resonated deeply with young Ugandans who see in him a leader willing to sacrifice for their future.
Wine has characterised the campaign as a war, stating: “It is important for us to challenge the authoritarian leader—again and again—until we eventually get our freedom. Because not challenging him means giving up.” This persistence in the face of overwhelming state violence represents a different kind of political courage than armed rebellion, one that insists on democratic legitimacy even when the system is rigged against it.
The Count and What Comes Next
As polls closed Thursday at 4 p.m., the counting process began under circumstances that make independent verification extremely difficult. With the internet blackout continuing, opposition agents’ ability to communicate results from individual polling stations to central coordination points has been severely compromised. The Electoral Commission has announced that presidential results must be declared within 48 hours of polls closing, with official outcomes expected by Saturday afternoon.
Few observers expect these results to reflect the genuine will of the Ugandan people. The combination of pre-election repression, election day irregularities, internet blackouts preventing independent monitoring, and an Electoral Commission whose independence is widely questioned creates conditions in which almost any announced result lacks credibility.
The Commonwealth Secretary-General, Shirley Botchwey, expressed concern before the vote about restrictions on freedoms of expression, assembly, and association, as well as arbitrary arrests, abductions, and the use of force against opposition gatherings. These concerns reflect international awareness that Uganda’s democratic institutions have been hollowed out, leaving only their formal shells.
The Weight of History
The irony is particularly acute given Museveni’s own words from 1986, when he came to power: “The problem of Africa in general, and Uganda in particular, is not the people but leaders who want to overstay in power.” Four decades later, those words indict the very leader who spoke them—a revolutionary who has become precisely what he once fought against.
Uganda’s election is not ultimately about whether Museveni will win another term; that outcome appears foreordained by the machinery of authoritarian control he has constructed. Rather, it is about whether Uganda’s democratic aspirations can survive another five years of repression, whether the country’s youthful majority will maintain faith in electoral politics as a mechanism for change, and whether regional and international actors will continue to tolerate the systematic dismantling of democratic norms in East Africa.
For the millions of young Ugandans who have known only Museveni’s rule, this election represents both a test of resilience and a measure of how far their country has drifted from the democratic ideals enshrined in its constitution. Whether Thursday’s vote marks another chapter in authoritarian consolidation or the beginning of a longer struggle for genuine democratic transformation remains to be seen. But one thing is certain: the credibility of Uganda’s electoral system, and with it the legitimacy of its government, has never been more severely compromised.
As one 18-year-old first-time voter in Kampala observed before casting her ballot, succession should happen democratically—a simple principle that Uganda has yet to realise in its entire history as an independent nation. Until it does, elections will remain exercises in authoritarian theatre rather than genuine expressions of popular sovereignty.
