By Henry Omoit
Walk into Parliament’s canteen any Tuesday afternoon. You’ll find Hon. Medard Ssegona of NUP laughing over tea with Hon. Chris Baryomunsi of NRM. At the next table, Hon. Ibrahim Ssemujju of FDC debates budgets with Hon. David Bahati of NRM, then they split a Rolex on the way out.
Check the Serena Hotel on a Thursday evening. Former rivals sit together at workshops run by IPOD. They argue fiercely in the boardroom, then share Nile Special and roasted goat at dinner. President Museveni hosts opposition leaders at State House for national prayer breakfasts. Dr. Kizza Besigye has been photographed greeting ministers he once called out by name.
Yet 10 kilometers away in Bwaise or Mbale, two boda riders won’t speak because one has a red beret and the other a yellow t-shirt. Families disown children for marrying across party lines. WhatsApp groups become war zones after every by-election.
Something is broken. And it isn’t politics. It’s how we’ve been taught to practice it.
Politics is a workplace argument, not a blood feud
In every office, colleagues disagree. The accountant wants to cut costs. Marketing wants a bigger budget. They clash in meetings, then go to lunch. Parliament is Uganda’s biggest office. Disagreement is the job description.
Hon. Mathias Mpuuga and Hon. Thomas Tayebwa sit on opposite sides of the House. They trade legal jabs over bills. But they also co-sign condolence books when a colleague loses a parent. Because the fight is about policy, not personhood.
When we turn political opponents into lifelong enemies, we’ve misunderstood the assignment. Parties are vehicles for ideas, not armies for war.
Leaders know the game. Citizens pay the price
Political elites understand a secret: Today’s opponent is tomorrow’s coalition partner. NRM needs opposition votes to pass budgets. Opposition needs NRM ministers to approve district projects. So they keep channels open.
In 2021, NUP’s Hon. Joel Ssenyonyi grilled the Minister of Health. Two weeks later, they were on the same flight to Gulu, discussing hospital funding. The camera catches the clash. It rarely catches the coffee.
Meanwhile, the ordinary Ugandan internalizes the clash as hate. He loses a friend, a customer, a in-law. The leaders he fought for are cutting deals over tea. He’s left with bitterness and nothing to show for it.
Our history proves we can disagree without hate.
In the CA of 1994, rivals from DP, UPC, NRM, and others drafted a constitution together. They called each other “Honorable” even when votes split 150–140. Benedicto Kiwanuka and Milton Obote were fierce opponents. But Uganda functioned because disagreement had rules.
Museveni himself, despite misgivings about multiparty politics, opened space for IPOD in 2010. Why? Because he recognized that dialogue between enemies prevents the nation from becoming the enemy.
The way forward: Patriotism before party
We must copy the tea-drinking habit of our leaders, not just their talking points.
Argue policy, not tribe. Attack the budget, not the Muganda or Munyankole presenting it.
Separate elections from life. Voting ends in one day. Neighbors, customers, and in-laws are for life.
Demand civic education. IPOD, WFD, GLISS, and NRM as a mass party must teach that parties are tools, not identities. The Church and Mosque must preach it too.
Punish hate, reward debate. If a leader insults instead of informs, he should lose followers, not gain them.
Uganda’s motto is For God and My Country. Not For God and My Party.
The next time you see an MP sharing tea with a “
political enemy,” don’t call him a traitor. Call him a professional. Then ask yourself why you can’t share tea with your neighbor who voted differently.
We can disagree on taxes, roads, and schools. We cannot afford to disagree on being Ugandans first.
