He is murdering you right now. Not with a gun. With a prison cell, a denied hospital bed, and a signature that never comes.
2:17 a.m. Kampala sleeps badly, rain has stopped, streets around State House are slick and black, reflecting yellow security lamps. Black Land Cruisers idle outside the gates, engines humming. Guards stare at an empty road.
Inside, the octogenarian despot is awake, Tibuhaburwa – 109 years old. Forty years in power, yet four generations of Ugandans have known only one name and same ageing face of a foreign tyrant. He has survived rebellions by starting them, elections by rigging them, scandals by burying them, and young challengers by killing them.
All faded except one, Colonel Dr. Kizza Besigye.
That name makes Museveni tremble because Besigye cannot be rigged. Arrest him, he becomes a headline. Silence him, he becomes a rumor, prosecute him, the courtroom becomes his parliament. Beat him, the country remembers why it bleeds.
In State House the popular joke is the fact that our country, Uganda ๐บ๐ฌ has two major seasons: rain and Besigye.
However, no one laughs loudly anymore. 2:31 a.m. Intelligence chiefs enter with a thin brown envelope – “Is he still alive?” “Yes, sir.” Museveni responds; โI want him dead.โ
Inside the envelope is a medical report indicating that Besigyeโs condition has significantly deteriorated again. Doctors begging for specialized treatment, family begging for evacuation while Opposition is still demanding release, and diplomats ask questions they can no longer avoid.
Museveni rejects to hear their cries.
This is how traditional dictators murder – No bullet. Just paperwork, justice delays as cruelty is rebranded into “procedure”.
That is the terror of old regimes. Reality has proved that you can arrest a man, you can crush a party, You can shut down a TV station, but you cannot shut down death.
If Besigye dies in your custody, you can issue all the statements you want. You can blame illness, age, or fate. But one question will crush every lie: Why was he still there?
3:05 a.m. The phone rings. Museveni listens. “Understood.” He hangs up.
“Sir?” the chief whispers.
“Nothing.”
In dictatorship, “nothing” kills.
By dawn, Kampala whispers: Besigye is dying. Besigye has been moved. Besigye is dead.
Fear needs no facts. Only your silence. 6:00 A.m Boda bodas return. Radios wake.
Behind guarded walls, a prisoner opens his eyes. Still alive. Barely.
Besigye lives. Museveni remains. Uganda remains hostage.
But history has entered the room. And history cannot be locked away. Enough is Enough with Musevenism!