Where is our humanity?

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OPINION

By Jackline Turinayo Baganizi

In recent years, we have seen a troubling and heartbreaking cultural shift, one that has been amplified by the rise of social media. A culture of rejoicing when others die is taking root, and it is poisoning the moral fabric of our nation.

The recent death of Cedric Babu, a public figure and son of former MP Capt. Francis Babu, has once again exposed the cracks in our collective conscience. As tributes and condolences poured in, so too did vile mockery, celebration, and dehumanising commentary, particularly on Twitter (X). It is a deeply saddening reflection of a society losing its moral compass.

Cedric Babu was not just a name; he was a father, son, friend, and human being. Regardless of one’s opinion about him or his family’s political associations, his death should be met with empathy and silence from those who had nothing kind to say.

Instead, many are using the occasion to settle political and personal scores, hiding behind the veil of anonymity that social media provides. This is not the first time Ugandans have danced on graves.

We saw the same happen with the deaths of Jacob Oulanyah, the former Speaker of Parliament, and Gen. Elly Tumwine, among others. In both instances, social media exploded with toxic posts, jokes, and even memes mocking the dead and their families.

The essence of Ubuntu—a Southern African philosophy embraced across many African societies—is that “I am because we are.” It teaches us interconnectedness, compassion, and empathy. Ubuntu is the recognition that every life has inherent value and that our actions toward others ultimately shape the society we all must live in. Celebrating someone’s death, no matter how flawed they were in life, robs us of our own dignity. It erodes the collective soul of a nation.

We must understand a fundamental truth: nobody is perfect. Every public figure, whether politician, businessman, activist, or artist, is human. They make mistakes. Some may have hurt others. Some may have held views we disagree with. But death is not the moment to relish their faults. It is the final curtain that demands reflection, forgiveness, and above all, decency.

This culture of posthumous hatred is morally wrong and dangerous. It teaches our children that it is acceptable to dehumanise others. It fuels cycles of bitterness and revenge. Today it may be someone else’s loved one; tomorrow, it could be yours. Would you want your relative’s name dragged through the mud moments after their passing? Would you want the world to mock your grief?

As a people, we must ask ourselves hard questions. When did we lose the ability to mourn as a nation? When did death stop being sacred? Why has our political polarisation become so extreme that even in death, people cannot find peace?

This is a call to everyone: let us return to Ubuntu and decency. Whether you are online or offline, let your words reflect the values that make us human, which are kindness, compassion, and restraint. Be slow to speak evil of the dead and quick to extend comfort to the living.

To those who have lost loved ones and have had to endure the cruelty of public scorn, we see you. We grieve with you. And to the rest of us, may we remember that every tweet, every post, every word spoken in hate will echo back to us one day. We are all mortal. The grave is not a victory ground for vengeance; it is a place where judgment no longer belongs to us. Therefore, let us do better and choose humanity.