Justice cannot be rushed at 6:00pm and delivered by 10:00am.
That is what happened in the High Court Criminal Division this week in the treason case against Col. (Rtd) Dr. Kizza Besigye and Hajji Obeid Lutale Kamulegeya.
At 6:00pm on Tuesday, prison authorities delivered to Luzira a list. 786 names. Advocates on state brief. No CVs. No areas of specialization beyond a general practice note. Just names, year of enrollment, and phone numbers.
By Wednesday morning, Justice Emmanuel Baguma was asking: “Have you made your choice?”
When Besigye said he needed guidance and time to verify competence, the court answered by appointing three lawyers anyway. Then it gave them two weeks. Then it set July 29, 2026 for the next hearing.
That is the story. But the story underneath is bigger.
The Question Besigye Asked Is The Right One
Listen to what he actually told court:
“My Lord, I received the list at 6:00 p.m. yesterday. It is an extensive list of 786 advocates… What has been furnished to us is limited to the advocates’ names, years of enrolment… This does not disclose their competencies.”
Then: “How do we make a selection while the underlying questions concerning our legal representation remain unresolved?”
That is not defiance. That is a practical question any accused person should ask.
You are facing charges the state says span four countries. The evidence, we are told, is technical. Electronic. It comes in volumes. It comes on a flash disk.
In that situation, do you pick a lawyer like you pick a boda at stage? By name? By who answers first?
A fair trial requires equality of arms. The state has prosecutors, investigators, and time. The accused must have counsel who can match that. Competence matters. Trust matters. Security matters.
Besigye told court his original team is willing and competent, but has security concerns that are subject of another application before the High Court. That application is still pending.
So the court’s solution was: here is a list. Choose. If you don’t, we will choose for you.
The List, The Appointment, The Clock
What happened next is now on record.
Justice Baguma reported that the Registrar had sent the list. The accused “did not comply.” So the court appointed three state lawyers: Namawejje Sylvia, Awero Sarah, and Ssemwanga R. Aloysious.
The court then gave two weeks to “choose lawyers from the list and meet with their team to discuss the evidence.” The hearing was set for July 29, 2026 at 11am.
At the same session, the prosecution handed over disclosure. Volumes 1, 2, 3. Plus a flash disk. The defense was told this is what they will be answering.
Think about that timeline. Evidence that may take months to read. A list of 786 lawyers delivered overnight. And a hearing date fixed before defense has even met counsel.
For the ordinary Ugandan watching, this feels familiar. Cases move fast when the state is ready. They stall when the accused needs time.
For the elite lawyer watching, this raises red flags. You cannot prepare a defense to complex charges without knowing who is defending you, and without time to study the file.
Why “State Brief” Is Not The Same As “Your Lawyer”
Uganda’s Constitution guarantees legal representation. For capital offenses, if you cannot afford a lawyer, the state must provide one. That is state brief.
The idea is good. The practice is where it breaks.
First, information. A list of names is not a shortlist. It is a directory. You cannot assess competence from enrollment year. You need track record, experience with electronic evidence, experience with treason or security cases.
Second, choice. Besigye’s point in court was simple: “Why should Ugandan taxpayers bear the burden of paying for my lawyers yet I can afford to pay my own?” He wants to pay for counsel of his choosing. The state says the choice must come from its list.
Third, protection. The reason his previous team is not in court, according to his submission, is security. If lawyers fear to appear, then the list of 786 becomes theoretical. Who will take the brief?
That is why Besigye asked the court for guidance. He was not refusing representation. He was asking how representation can be meaningful.
The Bigger Pattern Ugandans Recognize
This is not just about one man.
For years, Ugandans have watched political cases move on a different clock. Arrest, then remand, then disclosure delays, then sudden rush to fix hearing dates.
For the man in Owino, this looks like government power. For the professor at Makerere, this looks like procedure defeating substance. Both see the same problem.
What Happens Between Now And July 29
The court has done three things:
1. Appointed provisional counsel. The three named lawyers are to submit CVs to the accused for consideration. That is a step forward. It answers part of Besigye’s request.
2. Granted two weeks. To review the list, meet counsel, and study disclosure. Two weeks for volumes of evidence is tight, but it is something.
3. Set a date. July 29, 2026. The state will expect the defense to be ready.
Between now and then, two questions will decide how this trial proceeds.
First, will the accused accept any of the state lawyers, or will they insist on private counsel once security issues are addressed?
Second, will the court grant more time if two weeks proves insufficient to go through technical evidence spanning multiple jurisdictions?
If the answer to both is no, then this trial will proceed with lawyers who were imposed, on a file that was delivered late, under a timeline that was set early. That is not a recipe for confidence.
Conclusion: This Is About More Than Besigye
Dr. Besigye is a political figure. He has been in court before. He will be in court again.
But the principle here does not belong to him. It belongs to all of us.
If the state can hand you 786 names at 6pm and expect you to choose by morning, then no Ugandan is safe from that process. If evidence can be disclosed in bulk and a hearing fixed immediately, then no accused can prepare properly.
A trial is not a race. It is a test. Of evidence, of law, of fairness.
Yesterday, the court asked an accused man to pick a defender from a phone book. Today, it picked for him. In two weeks, it will ask him to answer charges.
Ugandans are watching. Not because they all support Besigye. But because they all might one day need the same thing he asked for: time, information, and a lawyer they can trust.
Justice that comes with a deadline and a list is not justice. It is administration.
And administration is not what Chapter Four of our Constitution promised us.
