Upper Naguru, 5 June 2026. A Friday afternoon turned into a funeral. Sydney Gongodyo, 27, rugby player, Makerere student, son, was beaten to death by a crowd. Accusation: snatching a handbag. Verdict: death on the street. No court. No evidence. Just fists.
Today the Uganda Police Force says five additional suspects have been arrested in connection with Sydney’s death. That brings the total number of suspects in custody to eight. The names in custody now are: Ssebagala Noordin, Ayebazibwe Roden, Namukose Juliet, Mondoni Elly, Twinomujuni Herbert, Katsigazi Perigrino, Tayebwa Darlious, and Tugume Hannington.
Efforts are ongoing to identify, trace, and apprehend other individuals believed to have participated in the incident. Police say they remain committed to ensuring that all those responsible are brought to justice. Further updates will be provided as investigations progress.
Eight arrests. Eight families now dealing with court dates and cells. But for Uganda, eight is not the end. It’s a mirror.
Ordinary Uganda: Why the crowd became judge
For the boda rider in Bukoto, the market vendor in Owino, the student in Kira, trust in police is thin. You report a phone snatched, you fill forms, you wait, you go home empty. After 3 times, you stop believing. So when someone shouts “thief”, the brain skips the police station and goes straight to action.
That’s what happened to Sydney. A crowd decided. No one checked ID. No one asked for proof. The punishment was instant because patience had died long before.
This is the ordinary tragedy: people who have been robbed too many times now believe justice must be personal. If the state is slow, we become the state. If the law is weak, our hands become the law.
But here’s the hard truth ordinary Ugandans must face: mob justice doesn’t reduce crime. It creates more victims. Today it was Sydney. Last year it was a carpenter mistaken for a thief. Tomorrow it could be your brother, your son, you. In a mob, there is no trial. There is only anger.
And anger, when repeated, stops feeling like anger. It becomes normal. A Kampala where men die on video and people scroll past is a Kampala losing its humanity.
Elite Uganda: Watching from balconies
In Kololo, Nakasero, and Bugolobi, the reaction is different. The elite Ugandan reads the news, shakes his head, and posts “mob justice is bad” on WhatsApp. Then he calls his driver to check if the car doors are locked.
Elite Uganda has CCTV, guards, and direct lines to police commanders. If a handbag is snatched there, response comes fast. Due process happens. The law works because money makes it work.
So elite Uganda condemns mob justice in theory, but does little to fix why it happens in practice. There are no public meetings asking why boda riders don’t trust police response time. No board meetings funding community policing in Naguru. No pressure on government to make courts faster than a crowd’s anger.
The elite man’s prison is comfort. He’s far from Bukoto streets, so he thinks the problem is far. But insecurity doesn’t respect postal codes. A city where law dies in Naguru will soon see lawlessness in Kololo too.
The public demand: Speed and consistency
People are asking hard questions. “Where is the muscular yellow jersey man called Obed? This case is a matter of public interest, and we demand that the government expedite it step by step. We must also take a hard line against mob justice, especially within the boda boda community, to avoid lawlessness is never tolerated”.
That comment cuts two ways. First, it’s a demand for speed. Ugandans are tired of cases dragging for years. Sydney’s case must move step by step, in public view, until the last person involved is in court. Justice delayed is justice denied, and delayed justice breeds more mob justice.
Second, it names the boda boda community. Because many mob attacks start there. Boda riders are Uganda’s eyes on the street. They see crime first. But some have also become executioners first. That’s dangerous. A hard line must be drawn: being a witness is not a license to kill.
Police must work with boda stages, not against them. Train them. Give them emergency numbers that actually work. Make them partners in arrest, not judges in beatings. When a rider chooses to call police instead of kicking, that rider saves a life – maybe his own.
Eight in custody. How many more?
Eight suspects arrested is progress. But videos from that Friday show more than eight hands. Efforts are ongoing to trace others. That’s where police must not relent. Every person who kicked, who filmed and laughed, who blocked Sydney from escaping, must answer.
And the trial must be open. Not hidden in paperwork. Ugandans need to see it step by step. Charges read. Evidence shown. Sentences given. Because public trust is built in courtrooms, not press statements.
Bottom line
Sydney Gongodyo wore Uganda’s jersey. He represented us in Nairobi. He won for us in Kampala. He died because we forgot the law.
Eight people are now in custody. More must be found. But arrests alone won’t heal Uganda. Healing starts when a boda rider in Bukoto chooses to call police instead of throwing a punch. Healing starts when elite Uganda stops watching from balconies and starts funding solutions on the ground.
Mob justice is not strength. It’s fear. It’s a confession that we don’t believe the system will work. So we build a crueler system on the street.
Sydney deserved a trial, not a beating. He deserved a stadium, not a street corner. He deserved more time.
May his case move fast. May it move fairly. And may it be the last time Kampala chooses to be judge, jury, and executioner.
Rest in peace, Sydney. May your death force Uganda to choose law over rage.
