Colors, Chaos, and Campaigns: Uganda’s Election Playground
Oh, hail the election! This has been a rare season where courage suddenly grew legs and walked freely in public. This time, belonging feels less dangerous. Party colors step into daylight without whispering apologies. In the last cycle, some shades felt cursed. People folded their loyalty neatly into drawers, afraid of offending self-appointed demi-gods who decided who deserved blessings and who should kneel.
Politics remains the most flexible sport ever invented. Goals stretch and shrink. Rules bend like warm plastic. Players swap jerseys mid-match. Colors fade, reappear, then fade again. Even the referee sometimes joins the cheering section. Nothing stays fixed long enough to be trusted, least of all promises printed on banners.
Relief comes from what is missing. No outrageous giveaways so far. No soap bars shaped like faces. No sugar bags speaking slogans. No underwear diplomacy. Yes, there was once a candidate who offered voters panties branded with his portrait. One still wonders which demographic the strategy targeted and which laundry lines hosted the campaign.
From the look of things, the janitors at the people’s court should wake up early. Dust those desks. Benches need wiping. Shake the dust off those wigs.
The election bell rings again, buy a vuvuzela if you must, buy a handkerchief if you may, and let us meet at the finish line.
