Why no tribe will thrive alone

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OPINION

By Kiiza Matu

As the 2026 elections draw closer, we must all pause and reflect on a fundamental truth: Uganda is bigger than each one of us. This country will outlive us all; regardless of tribe, region, or political affiliation. We are simply passing through. Yet, the tone of our national discourse today suggests otherwise. We are increasingly divided, suspicious of one another, and dangerously close to normalising sectarianism as part of our everyday conversations.

Not long ago, I had a personal experience that left me unsettled. I went to purchase shoes from one of the arcades in downtown Kampala. The sales lady, a middle-aged woman, looked me straight in the eye and said, “Ggenda ogambe Mzee akuwe sente,  mwe mulimukintu,”  loosely translated, “Go and tell President Museveni to give you money, you’re the people in government.” This was in response to my attempt to negotiate a fairer price, from sh150,000 to sh100,000.

What struck me most wasn’t her refusal to bargain, but the anger in her eyes., wide and intense, like a wrestler sizing up an opponent. I stood there speechless, not because I had been denied a discount, but because I was being judged for something I am not. I have never held a government position. I have never received any financial favour from the current regime. But because my Luganda accent revealed traces of my ethnic background with more “R”s than “L”s,  I had suddenly become “the other,” a representative of a perceived oppressive establishment.

This kind of everyday prejudice, cloaked in humour, sarcasm, or frustration, is symptomatic of a deeper national malaise. It’s become common for some Ugandans to cheer when a prominent government official dies or loses a loved one. This kind of public celebration of grief is disturbing. When did we lose our sense of shared humanity? When did political differences begin to equal enmity?

Even our leaders seem unable to avoid the undertones of ethnic suspicion. Recent allegations that the Chief of Defence Forces was "teaching a Muganda Runyankore in his basement" are troubling.

They raise legitimate questions: Are some groups in Uganda perceived to be imposing not only political power but also cultural dominance? And what would such dominance achieve, if not alienation and eventual fragmentation?

Ironically, in my own life, I have been helped more by Luo than Banyankore. I have more close friends among the Baganda than among people from my own ethnic group.

My personal story is not unique. Many Ugandans live this truth every day, building lives, friendships, and communities that defy the tribal and political narratives imposed from above.

So what, then, is fueling this surge in sectarian sentiment? Is it economic inequality? Is it years of marginalisation, real or perceived? Is it poor civic education, or is it simply the natural outcome of prolonged political dominance by a few? Whatever the answer, we must recognise that sectarianism is a ticking time bomb. It erodes trust, undermines social cohesion, and endangers the very fabric of our nation.

As we approach the 2026 elections, let us be reminded that Uganda will not be saved by tribal alliances or ethnic superiority.

No single group will thrive alone. We must rediscover the values of solidarity, respect, and mutual understanding. We need good governance that is inclusive, and an education system that teaches our children not only science but also tolerance and national pride.

The sectarian voices must be tamed — not by force, but through enlightened leadership, grassroots dialogue, and policies that prioritise unity over division. Uganda is home to all of us. And no one should feel like a stranger in their own country.

The writer is a medical anthropologist and Doctoral researcher at the University of Helsinki, Finland