You won’t believe Uganda’s renowned A-List stars are silent while Kenyans risk tear gas for Justice

“It has been said, by a voice lost to time but forever etched in truth, ‘The state decays, but the dictator grows fat’.”

This haunting adage, whispered through the corridors of kleptocratic empires, finds its mirror today in Kampala. Under Yoweri Kaguta Museveni’s nearly four-decade rule, Uganda’s public coffers have been bled dry by the very stewards entrusted to fill them. As the nation’s roads crumble, its hospitals rot and its classrooms echo with abandonment, the elite feast.

From Mobutu’s Zaire to Museveni’s Uganda: A Legacy of Loot Mobutu Sese Seko’s thirty-two-year reign in Zaire was the textbook of kleptocracy, a nation’s resources diverted into secret bank vaults while its people starved and decayed. By the time he fell in 1997, his personal fortune was estimated at five billion US dollars—almost equal to his country’s national debt—while hospitals collapsed and civil servants begged for bribes to keep the lights on .

Today, Museveni’s Uganda drums the same dirge. In 2024, five hundred and fifty-seven Members of Parliament collected, without a shred of oversight, one hundred million UGX each as an “Easter gift,” a total windfall of 55.7 billion UGX (approximately fifteen million US dollars) paid for with roads that never were, schools that never opened and clinics that never stocked a single syringe. Twelve months earlier, parliamentary commissioners quietly awarded themselves 1.7 billion UGX, then floated a 500 million UGX “election bonus,” all while water pipes leaked and children fetched water in jerrycans .

The Silence of the Ugandan Stars
If Museveni’s machine relies on looting, his chorus of celebrity accomplices provides the cover. In the wake of anti-graft marches that demanded accountability, Patrick Salvador Idringi, Sheeba Karungi, Cindy, Winnie Nwagi and others cloaked themselves in silence even as the streets filled with police batons and mass arrests . Their refusal to lend a voice to protest became a performance piece in complicity. Concerts went on, album launches proceeded and fans who once saw them as champions of struggle found only empty stages and muted pleas for ‘safety’.

One insider, speaking under condition of anonymity, cracked the code: ‘The cameras roll, the ring lights glow, but the only thing these stars want is to keep their bellies full and their followers quiet.’

Across the Border: Kenyan Stars Risk Tear Gas for Justice Contrast that with Nairobi on 25 June 2025, ethe sombre anniversary of last year’s ‘Occupy Parliament’ bloodbath.

Thousands thronged the Central Business District amid tear gas and live rounds to demand justice for the more than sixty souls killed by security forces and for blogger Albert Ojwang, whose death in custody became the flashpoint for renewed outrage .

Among the crowds, Kenyan celebrities made no pretense of neutrality. Jackie Matubia, tear-streaked and trembling, stood shoulder to shoulder with grieving youth. Comedian Njugush raised his voice in solidarity while actress Minne ‘Cayy’ Kariuki chanted freedom songs. Dance crew Matata Kenya, gospel star Daddy Owen and DJ Mo rattled their boda-boda with beat-driven placards. Wahu and Nameless arrived arm-in-arm with their daughter, draped in Kenyan flags. Even rapper Nyashinski laid down his microphone to demand accountability and mourn the lives lost .

Hypocrisy Is the true enemy let no one be fooled by the glitter of a suit or sthe roar of a stage. When Ugandan stars preach ‘Stay home, protests are dangerous’, they echo the dictator whose wealth depends on silence. Yet, when the venues shift to Kenya, they transform into warriors of conscience.

This is not fandom but betrayal. It is a grotesque theatre in which morality is rented out only when public opinion demands it elsewhere. Museveni’s regime will never wage war on looting because its very foundation is built on the plunder of the many for the benefit of the few. To fight it would be to admit the empire’s rot.

We stand at a crossroads: do we allow our children to inherit a narrative of passive complicity, or do we embrace the lessons of Nairobi’s tear-gas-soaked streets? Museveni’s applause line is simple, ‘If you’re poor, stay home. If you’re rich, pack your bags for someone else’s battle’. History teaches us that the cost of silence is far higher than the price of dissent.

Published by WhisperEye News.