One thing that cannot be taken away from President Yoweri Museveni is that he knows his history and can articulate it well, often relating historical events to the present moment. This is the impression left on those who listen to him, particularly during regional engagements.
Since his visit to Tanzania on February 8, 2026, I have found myself repeatedly replaying his speech in my mind, especially the part where he warned African leaders, or, as he put it, “the political class” of Africa. Museveni cautioned them about the danger of the continent being recolonized.
When you listen carefully to Museveni’s speech alongside that of the U.S. Secretary of State, Marco Rubio, delivered just six days later, where he reminisced about “five centuries, before the end of the Second World War,” when the West was “building vast empires extending out across the globe”—the message becomes impossible to ignore.
I appreciate that Museveni was deliberate about his audience. He was not addressing everyone; he was speaking specifically to his fellow elites who rule Africa. “The political class should be very careful in Africa, not to be like the traditional chiefs,” Museveni warned.
He expanded his argument by explaining how European struggles pushed them to seek new routes and opportunities abroad, eventually leading to the downfall of African chiefs.
“In 1498, Vasco da Gama passed here on his way to India, then news began to arrive that new people had come here, powerful people. He attacked Mombasa, along that route, so you can see from 1498 to 1862. That’s when Speke Hannington came to our area,” Museveni continued. “All this time, our Chiefs were getting information that powerful people are coming, they are coming, they are coming, but they did not unite to create strength.”
You Can See the Arrogance
The part of Museveni’s speech that truly caught my attention was where he expressed disgust at the arrogance emerging globally.
“After independence we need to move to strengthen Africa not to repeat those problems [of traditional chiefs] because you can see, I can see some threats already coming up. You can see the arrogance, as if people who don’t have strength don’t matter. We should not repeat those mistakes,” Museveni said.
I was genuinely surprised by this perception coming from Museveni himself, his discomfort with the arrogance of the mighty over the weak. That word, arrogance, immediately brought to my mind the image of the wife of Ugandan opposition figure Bobi Wine, seated on the floor, visibly distressed, while a man armed with an assault rifle stood beside her.
The image was shared by President Museveni’s son,Muhoozi Kainerugaba, the Chief of Defence Forces of Uganda. Normally, such images surface through leaks by bold journalists or disgruntled officials. But this one was shared by the regime itself.
I believe the intention was psychological torture and humiliation. Yet to many of us, to ordinary people with a conscience, the image was deeply disturbing and reflected poorly on the actions of the Ugandan government.
The testimonies of how Idi Amin treated Ugandans, acts of humiliation like this, even without photographic evidence, are what once forced Museveni and his colleagues to flee Uganda and oppose Amin. To Amin’s credit, in most cases there were no images to document the abuses.
Now, the testimony from Barbie Kyagulanyi, describing how armed men surrounded her home, assaulted her, and choked her while she was alone—is even more shocking. And to use Museveni’s own words, “you can see the arrogance, as if people who don’t have strength don’t matter.”
The Mighty Chief
The Barbie Kyagulanyi incident is only one of many disturbing cases in Uganda. The country has also been plagued by abductions and enforced disappearances, a trend that has become prominent in three countries: Uganda, Tanzania, and Kenya, with many fingers pointing toward state authorities.
In Uganda, people are taken by armed men in so-called “drones.” In Kenya, by armed men in Subarus. In Tanzania, by armed men in white Land Cruisers. When two Kenyans, Bob Njagi and Nicholas Oyoo, were abducted in Uganda and authorities denied knowledge of their whereabouts, Museveni later claimed they had been placed in a freezer. Fortunately, Kenya is the most democratically advanced of the three; public pressure mattered, and the two were released.
Museveni worries about resembling the traditional chiefs of the past. But I believe the similarities are already there. The difference is that he is far more powerful than they ever were, at least in relation to his own citizens.
When Europeans arrived to take over, they came not only with force but also with political offers, most notably, the promise to end slavery. Some chiefs were powerful precisely because of the slave trade. Others relied on foreign mercenaries such as the Rugaruga to maintain control.
This explains why some clans allied with colonizers, not out of loyalty, but desperation to escape brutality. Not all chiefs were bad. But some did sell their own people, and that fact cannot be ignored.
The similarity I see between President Museveni and his fellow elites of Africa and those chiefs is this: by exposing citizens to brutality, arrogance, and humiliation, he creates conditions where people may begin to wish for an even mightier force to end their suffering. So in this context President Museveni, you are the Chief. The mighty Chief.
Unity Without Values
To Museveni’s message to his fellow members of the political class, I agree: unity is necessary. But my concern lies in the values underpinning that unity. The regional alignment between Uganda, Tanzania, and Kenya does not automatically translate into progress for ordinary citizens.
Without strong values, unity among elites can become dangerous—even to the political class itself. In this context, I turn to what Julius Nyerere said on December 9, 1978, when addressing Africa’s moral crisis while speaking about Idi Amin, almost two months since Uganda-Tanzania war started.
“There is something very strange happening in Africa, and if we do not pay attention to it, we will greatly damage the dignity of our continent. Idi Amin is a killer. Since Amin took over the leadership of that country—I don’t know if we can even call it leadership, maybe leadership for oppression—he has killed more people than Ian Smith killed in Rhodesia; he has killed more people than John Vorster killed in South Africa,” Nyerere said.
“But there is a strange behavior in Africa: if a leader is African, simply because he is African, he can kill Africans as he wishes, and no one says anything. If Amin was white, we would have passed many strong resolutions against him. But because he is Black, his Blackness becomes a certificate to kill Africans.”
Nyerere went on to condemn the decision to appoint Amin as chairman of the Organization of African Unity, calling it a great shame. Several years later, we are still in the same circle- our rulers claim sovereignty- so that they can freely abduct, kill, and disappear citizens without being questioned. It is a shame that the African Union has morphed into a body that only exists for bureaucratic functions that serve the elites.
Back to Uganda—Museveni also has many similarities to the former ruler of the country, Idi Amin, who was ousted. Rather than resolving many complaints, especially on abductions, Museveni blames imperialists and foreigners, just like Idi Amin.
Tony Alfred K is an analyst working with The Chanzo. He can be reached at tony@thechanzo.com and on X @tonyalfredk. These are the writer’s own opinions, and they do not necessarily reflect the viewpoint of The Chanzo. Do you want to publish in this space? Contact our editor at editor@thechanzo.com.
