When “Just Cause” Entered the Registry
Author’s Note: The Chronicles of His Worship Mulyanyama is a serialized literary commentary designed to constructively critique the institutional and structural implications of the Magistrates Courts (Amendment) Act, No. 6 of 2026. This work is a creative exploration of the human infrastructure behind public service and is not intended to ridicule, embarrass, or undermine the integrity of the Judiciary.
The brown envelope had not lied.
TRANSFER OF FILES – FOR JUST CAUSE.
No explanation. No appeal. Just a signature from the Chief Magistrate and a list of file numbers.
Among them: File No. 43. The twins fighting over cassava. Imat Nekolina’s envelope. Ocen Okello’s breach of contract case for the supply of beans to Kec Primary School.
All of them, transferred. To whom? For what reason? The envelope did not say.
Mulyanyama set the letter down. He did not call the Chief Magistrate. He simply stared at his phone.
Counsel Ogwang Adede woke before sunrise.
He had spent 200,000 shillings on fuel the previous evening – a calculated investment. Today, he would drive from Lira to Omwonyo‑le for Ocen Okello’s case. Four years of beans. Four years of adjournments. Today, he would close the defence under Order 17 Rule 4.
He checked his phone.
A message from the headmaster: “Fees balance remains. Your son cannot sit exams.”
He silenced it. First, court. Then fees.
Then he opened the Lira High Court WhatsApp group.
NOTICE: The Honourable Judge will not sit this week. He has been deployed to Omwonyo‑le for a donor‑funded SGBV session. All matters stand adjourned.
He refreshed. The Omwonyo‑le Magistrates Court group had a new notice:
NOTICE: His Worship Mulyanyama has been designated Registrar for the forthcoming SGBV session. Additionally, a donor‑funded plea bargaining session will run for two weeks. No judicial officer will be at Omwonyo‑le during this period.
He scrolled further.
UPDATE: All other magistrates and the Registrar have travelled for a Judiciary conference. Only those excused for donor conditionalities remain in session.
Counsel Ogwang Adede stared at the screen.
In Lira – no Judge.
In Omwonyo‑le – no Mulyanyama.
No Magistrate. No Registrar. No court.
Two weeks.
He had spent 200,000 shillings on fuel. But that was not the worst of it.
That morning, he had been expecting a deposit of 30,000,000 shillings in taxed costs from a judgment debtor – Okullo Aram. The matter was coming up for Notice to Show Cause before the Registrar of the High Court in Lira. Okullo had called last evening, panicking, begging not to be thrown into civil prison. He was prepared to deposit the money in front of the Registrar.
Then Okullo sent a message: a photo of a notice from the Registrar’s chambers. The Registrar had travelled to Kampala overnight – for a donor‑funded workshop on case management.
After sending the notice, Okullo’s phone went silent.
Counsel Ogwang Adede called back. Twice. Three times. Nothing.
Later, he learned that Okullo Aram had five children in university and three in secondary school. The money that was meant for taxed costs had been redirected – to tuition fees, to accommodation, to books.
The debtor had not fled. He had simply reprioritised. And the law could not touch him – because the Registrar was not there to hear the Notice to Show Cause.
His clerk’s salary would wait.
His legal assistant’s salary would wait.
The headmaster’s message about his son’s exams would not wait.
Then his firm WhatsApp group buzzed.
A calling letter. From His Worship Munyakuzi, Chief Magistrate of Oneka Iden – the Chief Magisterial area under which Omwonyo‑le fell.
TRANSFER OF FILE – FOR JUST CAUSE.
On the court’s own motion, Ocen Okello’s case is transferred to my court for hearing.
No application from any party. No consent. No explanation.
Just just cause.
Counsel read it twice. His hands did not shake. They had done this before.
Mulyanyama had also seen the letter.
He picked up his phone and called Munyakuzi.
“Sir, with respect… those are live matters. Judicial independence –”
A pause. Then Munyakuzi laughed.
“Worship, did you not read Section 217A of the amendment? I have powers to transfer those files to my Court.”
The line went dead.
Mulyanyama stared at his phone. The ground at Omwonyo‑le had swallowed an axe. Now the law was swallowing itself.
Ocen Okello did not learn about the transfer from a noticeboard.
He learned it from Alyek Molly.
He had not even reached the bank. His Boxer motorcycle was still coughing dust somewhere between Abako and Oneka Iden when his phone vibrated.
He smiled when he saw the name. Alyek Molly – Registry. He answered immediately.
“My daughter… how is today?”
For a second, Alyek said nothing. Then her voice came – soft, tired, almost apologetic.
“Mzee… don’t come to court.”
Silence.
“I have already told your lawyer.”
Ocen slowed the motorcycle. “What now?”
Alyek looked through the registry window before answering. “His Worship has two critical assignments.” She lowered her voice. “He has been designated Registrar for the SGBV session… and after that… another plea bargain project. Two hundred files. Fifteen days.”
Ocen said nothing.
Alyek swallowed. “Mzee… save your fuel.”
The line went dead.
Forty minutes later, Ocen Okello sat inside the office of the loan officer.
Tie. Ledger. Calculator. No smile.
The file marked MORTGAGE RECOVERY – FINAL NOTICE lay open on the desk.
Ocen removed his cap. Held it in both hands. And began pleading.
“Sir… please do not sell my house.”
He swallowed. “The case is very near judgment, I promise.”
The loan officer said nothing. So Ocen continued.
“My lawyer says… no more than one month.”
He pointed weakly toward Omwonyo‑le. “The court has some delays… delays I do not fully understand… delays I cannot even explain properly…”
Just then – his phone vibrated again.
This time, Counsel Ogwang Adede.
He opened the message.
Brown envelope. Three words.
TRANSFERRED FOR JUST CAUSE.
Ocen read it once. Read it twice. Then slowly looked back at the loan officer… and for the first time in four years… did not know which debt was more dangerous – the one inside the bank, or the one inside the court.
By lunchtime, Omwonyo‑le was already whispering.
The new Chairperson of the School Management Committee of Kec Primary School – the same school that had eaten Ocen Okello’s beans – was an old boy of Chief Magistrate Munyakuzi.
In Omwonyo‑le, rumours travelled faster than judgments.
And this rumour had teeth.
“He is willing to vouch for his old buddy,” Alyek Molly heard from a clerk in Oneka Iden. “To save the school from an old crippling debt.”
Alyek said nothing. She was still calculating her mother’s medication. Friday’s tuition. The per diem that would now not come.
That evening, Mulyanyama sat in his rented room above the pharmacy in Oneka Iden.
The brown envelope still lay on the table.
Open. Unfolded. Unanswered.
The names stared back at him.
Imat Nekolina. Ocen Okello.
Four years. Red ribbons. Borrowed fuel. Dead witnesses.
Transferred. For just cause.
His phone vibrated.
Counsel Ogwang Adede.
Mulyanyama stared at the screen for two rings. Then answered.
No greetings. Just breathing.
Then Counsel spoke.
“Worship… what is going on?”
Silence.
“What happened?”
Another silence. Then the question that hit harder than any objection ever raised in court:
“Who complained?”
Mulyanyama looked again at the brown envelope. Then at the ceiling. Then finally spoke. Quietly. Almost apologetically.
“Counsel… I honestly have no idea.”
A pause. Then –
“Just orders from above.”
Neither man spoke again. For a few seconds, all that remained between lawyer and magistrate was breathing.
Then the line went dead.
And for the first time since the amendment, His Worship Mulyanyama realised something far more dangerous than corruption:
Sometimes a file is not stolen. Sometimes… it is simply called upward.
Before you blame a magistrate for “delayed justice”… ask two questions:
Who funded the last special session in your court? And how many times has a file been transferred – without your consent – “for just cause”?
The system is not broken.
The system is fully booked.
Enen Ambrose
Advocate
Member: Judiciary Affairs Committee
Uganda Law Society,
For feedback or comments: enen@enenlegalworld.com
If you missed the start of this journey, you can catch up on the systemic breakdown of the Magistrates Courts in Chronicles of His Worship Mulyanyama — Episode 2
Legal Disclaimer Fiction & Non-Defamation Notice:
This post is a pure work of fiction and creative literature. The characters, dialogue, specific incidents, and settings—including the character of His Worship Mulyanyama and the location of Omwonyo-le Magistrates Court—are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance or exact matches to actual persons, living or dead, real-life judicial officers, or specific ongoing cases is entirely coincidental. This text is created solely for the purpose of systemic legislative critique and systemic advocacy; it is not maliciously constructed, nor should it be interpreted as an attempt to defame, misrepresent, or malign any living individual or public office holder.
The legal references in this Series is for information purposes only and is not intended to be used as a substitute for legal advice. The author does not assume responsibility or admit liability arising from the use of the contents of this blog as legal advice.
The author strongly encourages readers to consult a licensed attorney for specific context related legal advice.
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