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OPINION
By Harriet Mimi Uwineza, PhD
Uganda has taken visible steps in advancing women’s representation. Today, the country boasts a female Vice President, a Prime Minister, and both a former and current Speaker of Parliament who are women.
Affirmative action in universities has opened doors for thousands of young women. In government, academia, and the corporate world, women now hold positions that once felt unattainable.
These milestones matter. They signal a society in transition, steadily challenging long-held assumptions about who is capable of leadership.
And yet, when the Electoral Commission recently nominated eight presidential candidates, every single one of them was a man. The absence of women at this level is not new, but it remains telling.
When women climb closer to the very top of political, corporate, or academic ladders, the story changes. The rules suddenly shift. A quiet but cruel message echoes: you may rise, but only so far.
Whispers begin: “Who paved her way?” For too many women, years of study, rigor, and leadership are dismissed as the product of connections or compromise rather than merit.
The scrutiny women face is also markedly harsher than that directed at men. While men are judged politically by their policies, alliances, or even financial scandals; women are judged more personally.
They are defined by the men in their lives, introduced as someone’s daughter or someone’s wife, and assessed by appearance, private choices, or unverified rumours.
At times, their dignity is attacked by the circulation of private photos or videos meant to discredit them. Even those who succeed through dedication and excellence are not spared, for suspicion lingers that they must have bargained with their bodies.
The result is corrosive: genuine achievement is diminished, brilliance is overshadowed, and women’s humanity is reduced to gossip.
This tension plays out across different arenas. In politics, courageous figures such as Dr Miria Obote, Betty Kamya, Maureen Kyalya, and Nancy Kalembe dared to contest for national leadership.
Their presence was significant, but their credibility was quickly undermined, often caricatured rather than celebrated.
In academia, an excellent professor was recently promoted to a high-ranking role; a position she earned after years of dedication, research, and discipline. She had built skills, networks, and a leadership style that commanded respect.
Many of us applauded her rise as a triumph for women in academia and beyond. Yet it also reminded us that too often, society hesitates to fully honour women’s excellence, attaching shadows to their light instead of celebrating it for what it truly is, for that would give credit to women, which seems to be difficult.
This pattern is not unique to Uganda. Across Africa, women have risen to prominence despite barriers. Ellen Johnson Sirleaf in Liberia, Samia Suluhu Hassan in Tanzania, and Netumbo Nandi-Ndaitwah in Namibia demonstrate that women can lead nations with authority. Closer to home, Rebecca Kadaga and Naome Kabasharira have shown that women can hold their ground in politics. On the global stage, Nigeria’s Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala leads the World Trade Organisation, Rwanda’s Hon. Louise Mushikiwabo heads the Organisation Internationale de la Francophonie, and Uganda’s Winnie Byanyima continues to stand tall as a leading voice for equity and justice. These women remind the world that African women do not just belong in leadership; they redefine it.
Still, a sobering truth remains. Women are often “allowed” to lead only within boundaries that men set. In some religious denominations, for instance, women may rise as deacons but are barred from heading congregations.
In workplaces, they may chair committees, manage departments, or climb into middle management, but when they aim for the executive office, they are told they lack toughness or face insinuations about how they got there.
The irony is that women make up a large share of Uganda’s voting population, workforce, and academic community. Yet when it comes to rallying behind women leaders, solidarity often fails.
This raises difficult questions. Do women doubt their peers? Or are promising leaders broken down by structural obstacles long before they can build the charisma and networks required for broad support? Have we truly rejected capable women, or have we denied them the resources and space to grow into their full potential?
The answer is complex. Patriarchy remains a powerful gatekeeper, imposing harsher moral codes, magnifying women’s missteps, and dragging their private lives into public judgment.
At the same time, women’s own solidarity has not always been harnessed to its full potential. Numbers alone have not yet translated into power.
The way forward is not to cast blame but to strengthen systems. We need leadership pipelines that reward merit over tokenism, workplaces that honour skill above rumour or compromise, and political spaces that elevate vision rather than patronage. Women, too, must believe in one another’s capacity and stand together when suspicion threatens to erode hard-won progress.
We must also salute the women who, despite these odds, continue to rise and lead. Their courage is not only a personal triumph but a collective victory that lights the path for generations to come.
The writer is Dean of the Faculty of Humanities and Social Sciences at Victoria University. (deanofhumanities@vu.ac.ug)