Building integrity: A rare asset

For any employee, public or private, this means doing the right thing even when no one is watching: being honest, keeping one’s word and refusing to trade duty for personal gain. It is what turns a job into a trust. It matters because every organisation runs on trust; without it, money leaks, services fail, and investors stay away.

Uganda’s plans recognise this. Under its Human Capital Development programme, the Fourth National Development Plan (NDPIV, 2025/26–2029/30) seeks “a healthy, knowledgeable, skilled, ethical and productive population”, alongside commitments to strengthen accountability in the public service and the fight against corruption. Integrity is just as central to the Tenfold Growth Strategy, which aims to expand the economy “from the current GDP of US$ 50 billion to US$ 500 billion by the year 2040” through agro-industrialisation, tourism, minerals, oil and gas, and science and technology. That ambition depends on revenue being collected and spent honestly and on investors trusting that rules apply fairly; a dishonest workforce drains both.

Integrity concerns have been raised in many workplaces. In banking, a legal practitioner told a 2024 Uganda Bankers Association conference that “a significant portion of frauds occur with the assistance or involvement or participation of internal staff.” In the health sector, speaking at the launch of the Ministry of Health Client Charter in March 2026, Permanent Secretary Dr Diana Atwine lamented, “We have ‘presenteeism’ without output”, and employers complain of staff who steal company time on social media.

Against this background, a recent case at the Uganda Revenue Authority (URA) stands out. In April 2026, during a routine customs verification, a URA customs officer found US$10.2 million hidden in a container declared as personal effects from Turkey. A clearing agent reportedly offered the employee about sh300 million, calling it a chance to get rich. The employee refused and reported the matter to superiors. The Commissioner General publicly recognised the employee, praising the “firm resolve to uphold integrity despite pressure not to declare the money.” Every Ugandan worker should learn from this example: integrity is tested not in speeches but in the quiet moment when wrongdoing would pay and might go unnoticed. Choosing honesty in that moment protects public revenue and earns lasting respect.

So how do we make integrity the norm rather than the exception at work? It starts at the top. Staff watch what their managers do far more closely than they listen to what they say, so leaders who cut corners should not be surprised when their teams do the same.

Organisations need clear codes of conduct, and they need to enforce them in the same way for the office messenger and the managing director. Honesty should also pay. URA has shown how: when an employee refuses a bribe or reports fraud, say so publicly, and let that conduct count in appraisals, promotions and performance contracts as much as results do. Those who speak up must be protected, or they will simply stay silent. Ethics cannot be covered in a single induction session and then forgotten; it needs regular training and routine checks that make fraud harder to hide.

And, as NDPIV reminds us, the work begins long before anyone signs an employment contract: at home, in school and in our lecture rooms, where teachers and lecturers shape values by the example they set. None of this will happen through one policy or one campaign. An ethical workforce is built one decision at a time, in quiet moments like the one that the URA officer faced. Sooner or later, each of us will face our own. When it comes, let us choose integrity.

The writer is an Economist and a Facilitator in Ethical Management and Leadership