Gone are the old days when Yoseri Tibuhaburwa commanded not just the political stage, but the hearts and minds of people—especially in Ankole.
In the early days, Museveni was a symbol of hope, a liberator who seemingly led Uganda out of chaos and promised a future built on freedom, justice, and progress.
His words resonated with the people, and his presence could draw crowds eager to cheer for a man they hoped embodied their aspirations.
But those days are long gone.
Today, Museveni’s convoy snakes through Ankole with a heavy cloak of military might—armored vehicles, armed guards, and an air of paranoia.
The once-enthusiastic waves and chants of his name have been replaced with cold indifference or, worse, silent contempt.
People barely lift their eyes from their daily struggles as he passes by. The man who once symbolized possibility now represents betrayal, corruption, and moral decay.
The tragedy of Museveni’s fall lies not in opposition from his political rivals, but in the erosion of trust from his own people.
His prolonged grip on power has turned him into everything he once claimed to stand against with decades of nepotism, oppression, and exploitation that have exposed him as a leader only consumed and preoccupied by his own self-preservation.
The very people who once chanted his name now see him as “trash beyond recycling”—a sharp and damning state for a leader who squandered his moral authority.
Museveni’s decline is a masterclass in how power corrupts. His inability to step aside, his obsession with control, and his failure to nurture new leadership have not just isolated him but alienated him from the people he once claimed to serve.
The heavily armed convoy is not just a shield from physical threats—it is a symbol of the emotional and political distance he has created between himself and the citizens of Uganda.
In Ankole, the silence that greets him is not just indifference; it is an indictment. It is the quiet judgment of a people who no longer see a leader, but a relic of a broken promise.
Museveni’s undoing is not the work of his enemies but the result of his own decisions—a leader who has stayed too long at the table, devouring the trust of his people until there was nothing left.
History will remember Museveni, but not as the hero he once aspired to be. It will remember him as a cautionary tale of a man who became a stranger in his own land, riding through his hometown in an armored cocoon, while his people looked down on him with disdain.
Indeed after his true colours have been revealed, the cheers are gone, the trust is broken far beyond repair.