Monday, 20 July 2026, 6:00 p.m. Nakivubo Cell, Kiseka Market.
A team of armed men moved in. No reflectors. No name tags visible. No clear “POLICE” on their backs. They were going for suspects at Original Kiseka Spare Centre.
The crowd resisted. Voices rose. Then shots were fired into the air.
By Tuesday morning, the video was everywhere. And by Wednesday, the question was no longer about the suspects. It was about us.
“Who is going to believe you that these are officers and not goons?”
That one comment captured the mood of an entire city.
The Facts As Stated
According to the police statement, officers went to Kiseka to effect a lawful arrest. The crowd turned violent and obstructed them. To disperse them and restore order, warning shots were fired. Order was restored. Two people were arrested.
On paper, that is textbook policing in a volatile situation. Crowd control, minimal force.
But paper is not where people live. People live in video clips, in memory, and in fear.
And what the video showed was men with guns, in civilian clothes, shooting in one of the busiest markets in East Africa at rush hour.
The Uniform Problem: If You Look Like Thugs, You Will Be Treated Like Thugs
This is not about hating police. This is about basic recognition.
The law and basic policing doctrine in most countries, including ours, require that an officer executing duties be identifiable. Uniform. Badge. ID. Something.
Why? Because the social contract depends on it.
I need to know that the man with a gun is accountable. That he has a number I can report. That he is not just another armed man in a city where armed robbery is real.
When government agents operate in plain clothes during a public arrest, they blur the line. To the boda man in Pader, to the mama selling spares, to the tourist who just landed at Entebbe, there is no difference between that and a robbery.
And here is the dangerous part: criminals watch. The next group of thugs will also wear black, carry guns, and say “we are police.” How will you argue?
One civilian asked online: _“Is this your new type of dressing for operations?”_
It was sarcasm. It was also a warning.
Timing Is Everything: Why This Hurts More Right Now.
Uganda is currently on a Level 4 travel advisory from the US. The reason given: crime, civil unrest, terrorism risk.
We can argue the advisory. We can say it is unfair. But then 48 hours later, video emerges of unidentified armed men firing in downtown Kampala.
You cannot ask the world for tourist forex and FDI with one hand, and with the other hand give them footage that confirms their worst fear.
This is not about “badmouthing Uganda.” It is about protecting Uganda.
The most patriotic thing you can do for your country is to hold its institutions to the standard that will make foreigners feel safe to come, invest, and stay. Defending everything, even mistakes, does not build a country. It buries it.
As one Ugandan put it: “No politician in the US badmouths the US.” True. But also true: no US police department releases a statement saying “yes, we fired in a market in plain clothes” and expects applause. They get sued, they get reviewed, they get body cameras.
Article 28 And The Quiet Erosion
Article 28 of our Constitution is about the right to a fair hearing. _“In the determination of civil rights and obligations or any criminal charge, a person shall be entitled to a fair, speedy and public hearing before an independent and impartial court or tribunal.”
The deeper question now: were those two suspects given that? Where were they arraigned? Which court? Were they produced within 48 hours? Were their relatives told?
When arrests happen in chaos, without clear identification, due process is the first casualty. And when due process dies in Kiseka, it becomes easier for it to die in Gulu, in Arua, in your village.
We are not saying the suspects are innocent. We are saying the process matters. Because tomorrow the person in handcuffs could be you, and you would want the world to see the badge, the charge sheet, and the court.
The Ordinary Uganda vs The Elite Uganda
For the ordinary Ugandan in Kiseka:
This is about survival. You sell spares. Your rent is due. If police come without warning and start shooting, do you run? Do you hide? Do you lose stock? Who compensates you if a stray bullet hits your shop? Who do you even complain to?
For the elite Ugandan:
This is about reputation. Investors read advisories. Tourists cancel trips. Banks raise risk premiums. And every time we look ungoverned on camera, the cost of doing business in Uganda goes up by a few basis points.
Both are connected. When a mama in Kiseka loses trust, the CEO in Kololo loses a deal.
What Should Happen Next
1. Identify and Discipline: If those were police, their commanders must explain why they were not in uniform. If they were not, then we have a bigger problem.
2. Public Arraignment Details: Tell us the court, the charge, the case number. Transparency kills rumors.
3. New SOPs: No public arrest in plain clothes. No warning shots in crowded markets unless life is in danger. Body cameras.
4. Compensation Mechanism: For any civilian property damaged during operations.
Security is not just about catching suspects. It is about making the 10,000 people watching feel safer after you leave than before you came.
Conclusion: You Cannot Shoot Your Way To Confidence
Firing into the air may disperse a crowd. It does not build trust.
Trust is built when a police officer walks into Kiseka and even the thief knows: that is police. Because of the uniform. Because of the process. Because of the accountability after.
Right now we are in a dangerous place. Citizens can’t tell officers from criminals. The world can’t tell stability from risk. And the law can’t tell a lawful arrest from a mob action.
We all want safe streets. We all want suspects arrested. But we also want to come home alive, and to know that the people with guns are working for us, not just near us.
Until we fix how security looks, acts, and answers, every viral video will do more damage than any travel advisory ever could.
Because the biggest threat to Uganda is not what the US writes about us.
It is what we show the world about ourselves.
