The recent arrest of former CID spokesperson Charles Twine for allegedly abusive statements could, in isolation, be seen as a routine legal action. If Twine indeed made remarks that incited hatred or disrespected lawful authority, then a legal process should follow. But in the broader picture of Uganda’s justice system, his arrest becomes a glaring symbol of the rot that has taken root—where the law is applied with surgical precision on the powerless and willful blindness on the powerful.
For anyone paying attention, the contrast is impossible to ignore. General Muhoozi Kainerugaba, the son of President Yoweri Museveni and head of Uganda’s armed forces, has for years used his X (formerly Twitter) platform to issue threats, insult political opponents, and claim responsibility for actions that border on criminal. From publicly expressing a desire to “behead” opposition leader Bobi Wine, to boasting that he was holding Bobi Wine’s bodyguard Eddie Mutwe in his basement and threatening further violence, the statements are not subtle—they are brazen, unapologetic, and well-documented.
Yet, despite these clear and public threats, the Uganda Police Force has not issued a single summons, comment, or investigation into General Muhoozi’s conduct. The silence is deafening. And it is telling. If his tweets moved his Dad to make a public apology to Uganda’s neighbor Kenya, then it begs a question, who is truly in charge or running this country!
The Opposition’s Cry — and the Public’s Silence
When Bobi Wine, leader of the National Unity Platform (NUP), calls out these injustices, his voice is often dismissed by state media and security agencies as merely “opposition noise.” He is branded a troublemaker, a destabilizer, or worse, a foreign agent. This labeling serves a purpose—it discredits the messenger so that the message can be ignored.
But Bobi Wine is not inventing these injustices. They are there, plain for anyone to see. The tragedy is that not many Ugandans are willing to stand and say, “This is wrong.” The fear is palpable as well as the smoke screen that has been successfully created by labeling Bobi Wine as a foreign agent. The cost of speaking up is high. If the son of the president can tweet about detaining a citizen in his basement and face no consequences, what hope does the ordinary citizen have?
And now, with the arrest of someone like Charles Twine—a man who once spoke on behalf of the very law enforcement body now turning against him—the message is clear: everyone is dispensable, except those at the very top. The system does not protect based on justice, but based on usefulness and proximity to power.
A System Eating Itself
This is not just about Muhoozi or Twine. It is about a system that is collapsing under the weight of its own contradictions. The rule of law cannot survive in a society where one man’s tweet is enough to land him in jail, while another man’s threat to kill or torture citizens is brushed off as “banter.”
Ugandans deserve better. They deserve a system where the law is not weaponized against the weak and suspended for the strong. They deserve a police force that serves all citizens equally, not one that tiptoes around power while pouncing on dissent.
Charles Twine may or may not have crossed a legal line. But if his arrest is not followed by an honest reckoning with those in higher offices who have said and done far worse, then the arrest is not justice—it is hypocrisy. And that hypocrisy is killing the moral backbone of the nation.
In Uganda today, truth is dangerous. And power does not tolerate being called out. That is not democracy. That is fear wearing the mask of order. It is a true reference to the song, “I am not your Enemy“. What is abnormally normal is torture claims against the police but what happens when it is not the police torturing but even when the police knows who is torturing, it cannot lift a finger to say anything rather it hides behind a curtain of enforcing selective law and order.