enenlegalworld

Category: Revolution

  • Red Alert: Ssemakadde and Uganda’s Judiciary in the International Firestorm

    Red Alert: Ssemakadde and Uganda’s Judiciary in the International Firestorm

    Image: President Isaac Kimaze Ssemakade. Image Credit: Isaac Ssemakade’s X(formerly Twitter post)

    Uganda’s judiciary just went full-on nuclear—and there’s no holding back. On New Law Year day, the very system that’s supposed to be the bastion of justice turned into a circus. The ULS President got stonewalled, the Chief Justice practically demanded an apology, and then came the blow—Justice Ssekana slammed down a two-year sentence on Ssemakadde for contempt of court. It wasn’t just a ruling; it was a middle finger to anyone who dared question the establishment.

    And if that wasn’t enough, the entire scandal is being dragged into the international arena. The Judiciary, in a move that can only be described as a self-inflicted public relations massacre, has tried to weaponize an Interpol Red Notice for an offense as laughably flimsy and culturally controversial as  “insulting the modesty of a woman.” Yes, you read that right. While Interpol is busy chasing down genuine threats, war Lords, Drug cartels, Uganda’s courts are out here acting like they’re in a personal vendetta—pursuing a man for throwing sharp words at the system.

    The madness deepens: the whole legal shambles that produced the warrant is under revision in the High Court, completely unattended, like a sinking ship left to rot. And guess what? Ssemakadde isn’t going down without a fight. He’s vowed, through his legal team, to challenge any Red Notice that dares to be issued against him—an audacious promise that practically screams “bring it on!”

    Meanwhile, the Executive and Parliament, both seasoned in navigating international diplomacy, stand in stark contrast to the Judiciary’s response. Having faced sanctions, blacklisting, and travel bans in the past, they are well-versed in managing the complex web of international scrutiny, asset freezes, and the like. Who doesn’t recall the free Bobi Wine protests that rocked global capitals. Who doesn’t recall a foreign affairs minister who was on global travel sanctions. Have we very quickly forgotten the backlash from Western states when the Uganda’s Anti-Homosexuality Act was passed into Law and upheld by the Constitutional Court. Experts and negotiators from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs burnt the midnight oil and the Ugandan state is still here to stay. The Judiciary, however, is primarily trained in upholding decorum, judicial conduct, and domestic legal frameworks. It is ill-equipped to handle the nuances of foreign policy, international relations, and diplomacy. So, the real question is: if the international community begins to ask hard-hitting questions about accountability and the rule of law—questions that go beyond the courtroom—will the Attorney General and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs step in to shield the Judiciary from the fallout? Or will they be left to fend for themselves, with their lack of expertise in international relations becoming glaringly apparent?

    Yes, development partners like the European Union, funders of the SUPREME project, Pepperdine University behind the plea bargain project, IDLO, Amnesty International, the Democratic Governance Facility (who knows they may come back) will have key questions about transparency, accountability and Rule of Law, directly addressed to our third estate about where their Millions of Aid is going. They will not be amused if they think their resources are being deployed to fight what appears to be petty fights.

    And what more, individual partner states with a long tradition of democracy may refuse to hand over President Ssemakade on grounds that the Red Notice is politically motivated and targeting free speech and dissent. Dramatically enough, interpol itself may refuse to put out the Red Notice, why? It goes against the Interpol Constitution. The offense leading up to the warrant isn’t listed as one of those for which a Red Notice can be put out and enforced.

    This isn’t your everyday legal drama; it’s a blood-soaked, high-stakes showdown where the very soul of Uganda’s justice system is on trial. Ssemakadde, with the cunning of a renegade professor from Money Heist, baited the Judiciary into a carefully crafted trap. Just like the Professor orchestrated the heists with meticulous precision, Ssemakadde pulled off a legal masterstroke, using the Judiciary’s own flaws against it. His provocation wasn’t a reckless act of defiance; it was a radical surgery planned to expose the raw, festering wounds of Uganda’s ailing legal system. The Judiciary walked straight into his trap, and now the courts stand naked and vulnerable on the global stage.

    So here we are, witnessing a system that once prided itself on upholding justice now doing a complete 180 into chaos. The Judiciary has thrown down the gauntlet, and if the international community decides to respond, it won’t be a pretty sight. The madness is palpable, the stakes are astronomical, and the fallout could reshape Uganda’s legal landscape forever.

    At this point, there’s only one entity that can pull Uganda’s judiciary back from the brink of absolute disaster: the relevant High Court Judge. The request for a Red Notice is a ticking time bomb, and if it’s not halted right here, within the Judiciary itself, the fallout will be catastrophic. The international community is already watching, and Uganda’s fragile legal system is on the verge of being exposed in the harshest possible light. This isn’t just about one man; this is about the future of Uganda’s justice system and its credibility on the world stage.

    But amid the chaos, there’s still hope. There are still clean judges, magistrates, and lawyers who believe in the integrity of the law and the values of justice. This system is not beyond redemption, but it’s going to take those who truly care about upholding the rule of law to stand up, speak out, and fight for a better, fairer future. This moment—this unprecedented crisis—can be the turning point for Uganda’s legal system if the right people step forward.

    The Judiciary stands at a crossroads. If swift, decisive action isn’t taken now, Uganda’s courts will find themselves at the heart of a global scandal—a bloodbath of embarrassment from which there may be no recovery. This is the moment of truth. The question is: will the Judiciary rise to the occasion, or will it collapse under the weight of its own mistakes?

    The clock is ticking, and the time for action is now. The relevant High Court Judge holds the key—let them make the right call before it’s too late.

    DISCLAIMER: This Blog is not made to attack the institution of the Judiciary but to spark conversations and discourse on vital reforms.

    More about the author on the about page for feedback and comments.

  • NO APOLOGIES, NO SURRENDER: THE RADICAL NEW BAR TAKES THE JUDICIARY TO WAR

    NO APOLOGIES, NO SURRENDER: THE RADICAL NEW BAR TAKES THE JUDICIARY TO WAR


    The Judiciary wanted a fight. Now, it has a war.

    The New Law Year was supposed to be ceremonial—a chance for the Bench and the Bar to sip tea and pretend they liked each other. Instead, it became a crime scene.

    Chief Justice Alfonse Owiny-Dollo, tired of the Uganda Law Society’s relentless attacks, came out swinging. He stood before the nation, fists metaphorically clenched, voice dripping with fury.

    At first, he played innocent. Pretended he wasn’t the one who had gagged Isaac Ssemakadde. Then, unable to hold back, he let the truth slip.

    “I am the one who ordered that the President of the Uganda Law Society should not speak.”



    And then, like a man who had been waiting to explode, he thundered:

    “Only a fool, and I really mean it, it is only a fool who abuses you, insults you, dehumanizes you and thinks it will be business as usual. It cannot be business as usual unless you make amends.”



    Boom. There it was.

    The Judiciary was officially in its feelings.

    The message was clear: Bend the knee, apologize, or face consequences.

    But here’s the thing—Ssemakadde doesn’t kneel. The Radical New Bar doesn’t beg. And the Uganda Law Society doesn’t send apology cards.

    Ssemakadde’s response was swift, brutal, and final:

    “The Uganda Law Society doesn’t exist to soothe the Judiciary or assuage its egos. The Uganda Law Society’s role is to protect the Judiciary from Executive Overreach and to ensure public trust in the Judiciary.”



    Translation? Cry if you want. The Bar owes you nothing.

    THE BUILD-UP TO WAR: THE JUDICIARY’S NEVER-ENDING BLEEDING

    This wasn’t just an outburst. This was months of pent-up fury.

    The Judiciary had been bleeding out ever since the Radical New Bar declared war on its comfort zone.

    Executive Order No. 1 threw the Attorney General and Solicitor General out of the ULS Council.

    Executive Order No. 2 announced a Radical Surgery on the Judiciary—no anesthesia, just raw scalpel to the bone.

    Executive Order No. 3 didn’t just boycott Justice Musa Ssekana—it excommunicated him from the legal faith.


    Justice Ssekana, famous for delivering controversial and contradictory rulings had crossed a dangerous line.

    He had blocked ULS elections for its representative to the Judicial Service Commission. Many saw it as blatant Judicial Overreach—the Bench trying to control the Bar.

    The Radical New Bar did not take it lightly.

    A total boycott of Justice Ssekana’s courtroom. His rulings became legal noise—heard but never taken seriously.

    The ULS plaque that once honored him? REVOKED. PUBLICLY DISOWNED. SYMBOLICALLY BURNT.

    A whistleblower campaign launched, calling for evidence to have him removed for Judicial Misconduct.


    Ssekana was supposed to be finished.

    But Uganda’s Judiciary is like a bad magic trick—the more incompetent you are, the higher you rise.

    Instead of accountability, Ssekana is now pending vetting for the Court of Appeal.

    A man under public investigation for judicial misconduct is being lined up for a promotion.

    At this point, the Judiciary wasn’t just bleeding—it was leaking credibility like a sinking ship.

    THE KABAZIGURUKA JUDGMENT—WHEN REAL POWER SPOKE, THE JUDICIARY COWERED

    But let’s talk about the elephant in the room.

    The Uganda Law Society forced the Supreme Court to deliver the Kabaziguruka Judgment on January 31, 2025. It was a victory for the Rule of Law—civilians could no longer be tried in military courts.

    The Radical New Bar celebrated.

    And then, Gen. Muhoozi Kainerugaba entered the chat.

    Uganda’s Chief of Defense Forces. The President’s son. The man who commands tanks, fighter jets, and battle-hardened soldiers.

    He wasn’t impressed.

    He didn’t file for a review. He didn’t even bother to hide his disgust.

    He called the entire Supreme Court “clowns.”

    Then, he went further.

    “We are coming for you.”



    A direct threat. An undeniable challenge.

    If any civilian had said this, contempt of court summons would have been printed, signed, and delivered in minutes.

    But this was Uganda’s most powerful General.

    What did the Judiciary do?

    NOTHING.

    No warning. No condemnation. No outrage. Just silence.

    But when Ssemakadde calls out judicial incompetence? Suddenly, the Judiciary is offended.
    When Sebaduka criticizes the Bench? Suddenly, they have the power to throw someone in jail.

    Muhoozi tells the Supreme Court “we are coming for you,” and they act like they didn’t hear a thing.

    But when the Radical New Bar speaks, the Judiciary suddenly remembers how to fight.

    THE FINAL SHOWDOWN: THE PUBLIC INQUIRY IS COMING

    The Judiciary thought the worst was over? Not even close.

    Because Isaac Ssemakadde doesn’t just fight battles—he wages wars.

    Last year, he made a promise:

    The Uganda Law Society would not wait for the broken, spineless, toothless Judicial Service Commission to act.

    No more fake investigations. No more endless excuses. No more allowing compromised institutions to pretend they can police themselves.

    The ULS would marshal a PUBLIC COMMISSION OF INQUIRY into the entire Bench.

    And he gave the Judicial Service Commission a deadline—January 15, 2025—to furnish a report on its inquiry against Justice Ssekana.

    The deadline came and went.

    No report. No accountability. Just the same old game of protecting the powerful.

    Now, the ULS Governing Council has just completed its retreat. What were they doing? COMBING THROUGH PUBLICLY GATHERED EVIDENCE AGAINST JUSTICE SSEKANA.

    Evidence gathered as a result of Executive Order No. 3.

    The Judiciary wanted a fight? Now, it has a full-scale public investigation coming straight for its doorstep.

    And the Chief Justice still expects an apology?

    The ULS will not apologize to a judge they have been investigating for potential removal.

    The Judiciary wanted a war. Now, it’s getting one.

    The horns are locked. The trenches are dug. The battle lines are drawn.

    And if the Judiciary thought the Radical New Bar was dangerous before?

    They haven’t seen anything yet.

    This is no longer just a legal fight. This is institutional. This is existential. This is irreversible.

    Brace yourselves. 2025 is about to be the most explosive year in Ugandan legal history.

    NO APOLOGIES. NO COMPROMISES. NO MERCY.

    JUSTICE WILL PREVAIL.

    DISCLAIMER: This Blog is not intended to ridicule or attack the persons of the Honorable Chief Justice Alfonse Chigamoi Owiny Dollo, the Hon. Justice Musa Ssekana. It is purely public commentary on the spat that happened at the opening of the New Law Year at the Supreme Court, Kampala.

    The information contained in this Blog is not intended to be used as Legal advice. The author accepts no liability for injury arising from using the information contained in the Blog as Legal Advice. Readers are advised to seek the services of a qualified attorney in their area of Jurisdiction to deal with specific scenarios.

    Do you have a story that would contribute to the Rule of Law discussion that you want us to write about? Reach out to us at ambrosenen@gmail.com

  • BANG! MILITARY COURTS FOR CIVILIANS ARE DEAD—THE SUPREME COURT JUST DROPPED THE HAMMER, AND THE RADICAL NEW BAR LIT THE FUNERAL PYRE!

    BANG! MILITARY COURTS FOR CIVILIANS ARE DEAD—THE SUPREME COURT JUST DROPPED THE HAMMER, AND THE RADICAL NEW BAR LIT THE FUNERAL PYRE!

    The Supreme Court has spoken. The revolution has won. The military courts are finished. It took 25 years of legal battles, endless delays, and the relentless fire of Uganda’s most radical legal minds, but justice has finally arrived. And when it came, it wasn’t subtle. It came with the full force of the Constitution, a gavel so loud it could shake the foundations of every military courtroom still pretending to be a temple of justice.

    This is not just a legal victory; it is a demolition job on a long-standing abuse of power. It is the final nail in the coffin for a system that has for decades terrorized civilians, dragging them before military tribunals as if they were rogue soldiers, silencing dissent under the guise of national security. And the Supreme Court? Oh, the Supreme Court delivered its judgment with flair, with humor, and with the kind of clarity that leaves no room for debate.

    Chief Justice Owiny-Dollo, ever the master of courtroom theatre, laid it all bare in ways that had the entire legal fraternity both laughing and nodding in agreement. Imagine a Uganda where he, a civilian, is picked to lead a military brigade to guard the war-torn eastern border with the DRC. Imagine him, clad in combat gear, barking orders to soldiers while probably asking them which way to point a gun. Or worse—picture him in a hospital theatre, standing over an unconscious patient, scalpel in hand, completely clueless about whether he’s holding a kidney or a liver. Madness, right? Exactly. That, he said, is the absurdity of putting untrained military officers in charge of dispensing justice.

    This was the point where even the most rigid courtroom observer had to chuckle. But beneath the humor was a devastating truth: military courts are tribunals run by people without the first clue about judicial procedure, yet they have spent years presiding over cases, handing down life sentences and convictions like they were distributing rations at a military mess. The Chief Justice didn’t mince his words. The Constitution was clear, and so was the Court—military justice is for military personnel, period. Civilians have no business being tried there.

    And yet, as the judgment was delivered, there was another remarkable moment. Counsel Caleb Alaka, one of Uganda’s legal firebrands, stood up and did something few saw coming—he apologized. On behalf of the Uganda Law Society, he expressed regret for the extreme activism, the relentless pressure, the public letters, the weekly legal firebombs the Radical New Bar had been hurling at the Supreme Court, demanding action. The judges listened, some perhaps amused, others with the quiet satisfaction of warriors who had just emerged victorious in a long and bloody intellectual battle.

    The apology was sincere, but let’s be honest—this war was necessary. The Radical New Bar, under the fearless and uncompromising leadership of Isaac K. Ssemakadde, fought like hell to make this ruling happen. The legal establishment had long grown too comfortable, too resigned to waiting indefinitely for judgments while civilians continued to be dragged before military tribunals. The RNB was having none of it. Weekly press conferences, legal activism so sharp it cut through the silence, direct challenges to judicial inertia—this was lawfare at its finest. And in the end, the pressure worked.

    The judgment is now out, and the message is clear: no more military courts for civilians. No more kangaroo justice. No more legal intimidation. If the army wants to try someone, that person better be wearing a uniform. Otherwise, they belong in the courts of law established by the Constitution. And for those still clinging to the old ways, still hoping that military justice can be used as a tool of fear and suppression? Pack up your case files. Your era is over.

    For the Uganda People’s Defence Forces, the ruling leaves no room for negotiation. Civilians currently facing trial in military courts must be released. Every ongoing case must be dropped. Any attempt to defy this ruling will not just be illegal—it will be suicidal. The ULS and the RNB are watching. The Supreme Court is watching. And the Ugandan people, tired of impunity, will not tolerate another second of this nonsense.

    Parliament? Time to clean house. The UPDF Act needs to be amended—immediately. Those loopholes that allowed military courts to overstep their jurisdiction must be sealed permanently. No more ambiguity, no more exploitation of civilians through legal gymnastics. This ruling has set the standard, now it’s up to lawmakers to ensure the law reflects it. And the Executive? The President, the Attorney General, the Director of Public Prosecutions—they need to act. Not tomorrow, not next week. Now.

    For those who still think this is just another ruling, another judgment to be ignored or manipulated—think again. This is the beginning of a new era. The days when military courts were used as tools of intimidation are gone. The days when civilians had to fear being hauled before unqualified military judges who don’t know the difference between fair trial rights and a parade drill are gone. This is what victory looks like.

    Uganda’s legal profession will never be the same. The Supreme Court has reaffirmed its place in history. The Radical New Bar has cemented its reputation as the most effective force for legal accountability in modern Uganda. And the Constitution? It has won. The rule of law has won. Justice has won.

    The revolution is here, and it has no brakes.

    A copy of the Judgment can be found here

    AG v Hon Micheal Kabaziguruka SC Const Appeal N_250131_153316Download

    The statement of the Uganda Law Society welcoming the Judgment can be found here

    supreme court statementDownload

    Enen Ambrose is a Rule of Law enthusiast and a supporter of the firebrand president of the Uganda Law Society, Isaac K Ssemakade.

    Disclaimer: This write up is for informational purposes only and should not be taken as a substitute for professional legal advice. Readers are advised to seek the services of a qualified attorney in their area of Jurisdiction for situation specific legal advice and course of action.

    Do you have a story in your community that sheds light on the Rule of Law discourse that you want us to discuss about? Or do you have valuable constructive feedback for us?

    Please reach out to us on, ambrosenen@gmail.com or +256789856805

  • Anarchy’s Throne: The Fall of Justice(A Bold Call to Defend the Rule of Law)

    Anarchy’s Throne: The Fall of Justice(A Bold Call to Defend the Rule of Law)


    Without the Rule of Law, chaos shall reign,
    A nation adrift, drowning in pain.
    The President speaks with pride and flair,
    Banning bond and bail, without a care.
    But hear this now, hear it loud,
    The law is not a weapon for the proud!
    Chief Justice, rise, your gavel is strong,
    The law must lead, not bend to wrong.
    Disregard the whispers, disregard the call,
    For justice must stand, above them all!

    Kale Kayihura once ruled with fear,
    A terror of torture, pain, and tear.
    But when the law turned, his empire crumbled,
    The mighty fell, their lies stumbled.
    Now, IGP, do not cower to power,
    You must guard the law, every hour!
    The President may demand, but you know the truth—
    Justice, not politics, must be the proof.
    You hold the line, between peace and strife,
    Do not let tyranny consume our life.

    Amama Mbabazi, the crafty man,
    With whispers and wires, his plans began.
    But the law, sharp as a blade, cut him through,
    Exposing his schemes, bringing him to view.
    Now, let this be the lesson, loud and clear,
    The law cannot be twisted by fear.
    So, let the courts rise, let justice shine,
    For without the law, there’s no peace, no line.

    Ssemakadde has spoken, a voice so true,
    Corruption must fall, but human rights too!
    The President may ban, may shout, may roar,
    But the law is the shield we must restore!
    So lawyers, rise! Stand with boldness and grace,
    For in the law, we find our place.
    Defend the weak, defend the right,
    For justice is the beacon, shining bright!

    The time is now, the call is clear,
    Stand firm, stand tall, without fear.
    For if we fall, the people will cry,
    But if we stand, justice will never die!
    Bail may be banned, bond cast aside,
    But the law—the law—must always guide!

    Happy New Year 2025.

    Enen Ambrose (Advocate)

    ambrosenen@gmail.com | +256789856805

  • The Radical New Bar Revolution: Expulsions, Boycotts, and the Battle for the Soul of Uganda’s Legal Profession

    The Radical New Bar Revolution: Expulsions, Boycotts, and the Battle for the Soul of Uganda’s Legal Profession


    Let’s not sugarcoat it: Uganda’s legal profession is in chaos. President Isaac Ssemakadde, the firebrand leader of the Uganda Law Society (ULS), has declared war—on the judiciary, on government interference, and, if necessary, on tradition itself. This isn’t your grandfather’s bar association anymore; it’s a Radical New Bar, blazing through a tired, creaking legal system with orders that feel less like bureaucratic memos and more like the opening shots of a revolution.

    It began with Executive Order No. 1 of 2024, a political earthquake that saw the Attorney General and Solicitor General expelled from the ULS Council. Yes, you read that right: expelled. Not asked to step aside politely, not nudged toward the door—expelled. President Ssemakadde called their presence a colonial hangover, an outdated relic that kept the Bar shackled to government influence.

    “The AG cannot serve two masters!” Ssemakadde thundered, and just like that, the most senior government lawyers were tossed out of the Council, their titles no longer recognized in what Ssemakadde calls “the House of Justice.” It was a raw, messy, unapologetic power move, the kind that made half the room cheer and the other half gasp. Love him or hate him, the man is not here to play.

    The Call to Boycott: Executive Order No. 3—A Legal Bloodbath?

    And now here we are, riding the shockwaves of Executive Order No. 3 of 2024, where the stakes have climbed even higher. This time, it’s not just government lawyers feeling the heat—it’s the advocates. All of them.

    The ULS has called for a boycott of Judge Musa Ssekaana’s court. Advocates are being ordered—yes, ordered—to stay away. The revolution demands solidarity. The revolution demands sacrifice. But here’s the burning question twisting every lawyer’s stomach: what happens when revolution clashes with professional duty?

    Imagine this: you’re an advocate with a client who’s been waiting months, maybe years for their day in court. They’ve sold their land, borrowed money, staked their entire future on this case. And now, because of the boycott, you’re supposed to turn to them and say: “Sorry, justice is on hold this month. We’re making a point.”

    Your professional ethics scream at you to stand by your client. The Advocates Act tells you that your duty to your client is sacred, almost holy. But the ULS says otherwise. The ULS says that this fight—this boycott—is bigger than you, bigger than your client, bigger than this one case.

    And if you defy the ULS? If you walk into Judge Ssekaana’s courtroom and do your job? Then what? Are you a traitor to the cause? A sellout? Will the ULS come for you next?

    This is not just a professional dilemma. This is a moral crucible, a test of loyalty, a trial by fire. Will you risk your client’s future, or will you risk your career? Isaac Ssemakadde has thrown down the gauntlet, and every lawyer in Uganda must decide where they stand.

    A Law Society Without Teeth? The ULS’s Fight for Power

    But here’s the twist that turns this legal thriller on its head: Can the ULS actually enforce any of this?

    Let’s step back for a moment. Under the Uganda Law Society Act, the ULS is tasked with upholding professional standards and improving the conduct of lawyers. But there’s a catch: the ULS can’t legally punish anyone. Not really.

    Disciplinary power lies with the Law Council, a separate government-anchored body. The ULS can yell, it can shout, it can issue Executive Orders with the fire and fury of a thousand revolutions—but at the end of the day, it cannot fine you. It cannot suspend you. It cannot strip you of your right to practice law.

    What it can do is drag your name through the mud, isolate you, and question your loyalty to the cause. And in a profession where reputation is everything, that’s no small threat. The ULS may not have teeth, but it has a loud voice, and right now, it’s shouting for all the world to hear.

    So what happens if an advocate defies the boycott and the ULS tries to discipline them? The answer is a legal nightmare. The accused advocate would challenge the ULS’s authority in court, and—oh, the irony!—they’d find themselves stuck in the very judiciary the boycott condemns.

    Justice delayed? Oh, yes. Justice delayed for years. That’s Uganda’s court system for you: clogged, slow, and sometimes deliberately obstructive. By the time the courts decide who’s right and who’s wrong, the boycott will be ancient history, and the ULS’s revolution will either be a roaring success or a long-forgotten whisper.

    The Bigger Battle: A Fight for Autonomy

    When Ssemakadde expelled the Attorney General and Solicitor General, he wasn’t just flexing muscle—he was making a declaration of independence. He wants the ULS to be a fully autonomous Bar, like those in Canada, South Africa, and other legal systems where the profession regulates itself, free from government influence.

    Take Canada’s Law Society of Ontario. There, the Bar has real power: it disciplines lawyers, sets standards, and protects the profession’s integrity. No government official sits at their table, holding sway over decisions that affect the legal profession.

    In Uganda, the presence of government lawyers on the ULS Council undermines that independence. Critics have long argued that the Attorney General and Solicitor General, as government agents, represent a conflict of interest—how can they serve both the executive and the profession simultaneously?

    By kicking them out, Ssemakadde ripped off the bandage and exposed the wound. But the wound is far from healed. Until the ULS is given real disciplinary authority, until it can act without begging the Law Council for enforcement, the revolution will remain just that: a revolution, full of fire but not yet law.

    The Chaos and the Choice

    The ULS has lit the match. The lawyers of Uganda now face the fire.

    Do they comply with Executive Order No. 3 and boycott the court, risking their clients’ cases, their livelihoods, and their professional ethics?
    Or do they stand up and say no, risking isolation, humiliation, and the fury of the Radical New Bar?

    This isn’t just a battle for the courts. It’s a battle for the soul of Uganda’s legal profession.

    Isaac Ssemakadde has made it clear: there’s no room for compromise. You’re either with the revolution or against it. And if you’re against it, you’ll have to answer not just to the ULS but to the future of justice in Uganda.

    The system is broken, yes. The courts are failing, yes. But will boycotts and expulsions fix it? Or are they just adding more chaos to the madness?

    What happens next is up to Uganda’s advocates. The storm is here, and every lawyer must decide: Will you stand in the rain, or will you bring the thunder?

    The revolution has begun. Where do you stand?

    My about me on my other blog posts and other useful disclaimers

  • Judiciary on Trial: Delayed Justice, Judicial Overreach, and Uganda’s Fight for Legal Accountability

    Judiciary on Trial: Delayed Justice, Judicial Overreach, and Uganda’s Fight for Legal Accountability

    Uganda’s judiciary stands at a defining moment. With its recent pattern of issuing injunctions against the Uganda Law Society’s (ULS) internal processes, the courts appear to have placed themselves in opposition to democratization, accountability, and reform. The High Court’s recent ruling in Mugisha Hashim Mugisha & Pheona Nabasa Wall v. ULS, which blocked an Extraordinary General Meeting (EGM) to elect ULS nominees for the Judicial Service Commission (JSC), is the latest episode in this disturbing trend.

    But this isn’t just about one ruling. It’s about a systemic pattern: one where the judiciary blocks ULS EGMs for years, grants temporary injunctions that morph into indefinite barriers, and delays rulings while the status quo prevails. Cases such as Brian Kirima v. ULS (2024) and Attorney General v. ULS (2024) illustrate this concerning dynamic, where judicial delays and contradictory rulings obstruct the ULS’s statutory mandate to protect the rule of law.

    The question we must ask is simple but urgent: Is the judiciary afraid of the Radical Surgery being performed by the Radical New Bar? Is this an attempt to resist reform and entrench unelected power in Uganda’s legal system?

    The Radical New Bar’s Vision for Reform

    Under President Ssemakade, the Radical New Bar has spearheaded a bold revolution. This movement is more than a change in leadership—it’s a demand for transparency, democracy, and accountability across Uganda’s legal system. The adoption of Executive Order No. 2 of 2024 was a defining moment, directing the ULS to convene elections for JSC nominees. These elections represented a critical step in dismantling decades of unelected power and reforming the judiciary.

    For too long, unelected ULS representatives have served on the JSC well past their lawful tenure. These representatives wield significant power over judicial appointments, often without public accountability. Ssemakade’s reforms sought to change this by ensuring that ULS members could elect their representatives democratically—a step toward restoring public trust in the judiciary.

    But the judiciary’s recent rulings raise a troubling question: Are the courts complicit in protecting the unelected elite and resisting much-needed reform?

    Judicial Overreach: A Pattern of Obstruction

    The recent ruling in Mugisha & Wall is part of a broader pattern of judicial interference. Courts have repeatedly issued injunctions that block the ULS from convening EGMs, leaving important governance issues unresolved. In Brian Kirima v. ULS (2024), for example, the High Court issued a temporary injunction blocking the ULS from holding an EGM requested by its members. The court justified this decision by claiming that the meeting might lead to resolutions outside the ULS’s statutory mandate.

    Similarly, in Attorney General v. ULS (2024), the court issued a permanent injunction prohibiting the ULS from convening an EGM to discuss judicial misconduct allegations. The court argued that such discussions would infringe on the independence of the judiciary and encroach on the Judicial Service Commission’s (JSC) mandate. While protecting judicial independence is crucial, these rulings have had the effect of stifling the ULS’s role as a watchdog for the rule of law.

    The judiciary’s actions create a chilling effect, sending a message that the ULS cannot hold its own members or representatives accountable without judicial interference. This is particularly troubling when unelected JSC representatives continue to serve beyond their lawful tenure, shielded by the very courts that should ensure accountability.

    Preliminary Issues Ignored: A Missed Opportunity

    The Mugisha & Wall case could have been resolved on preliminary issues, sparing the judiciary from issuing an injunction that has paralyzed ULS processes.

    1. The Question of Locus Standi

    The first applicant, Mugisha Hashim Mugisha, lacked the locus standi required to bring the case. Judicial review, as outlined in Rule 3 of the Judicature (Judicial Review) Rules, 2019, is reserved for those who can demonstrate that they are directly affected by an administrative decision. Mugisha was neither a candidate for the JSC election nor a suspended council member. His application, therefore, lacked the specific and tangible interest necessary for judicial review.

    This procedural flaw should have been addressed as a preliminary issue, as it rendered the entire case speculative and unwarranted. Resolving this question at the outset would have saved valuable judicial resources and avoided the need for an injunction that undermines democratic processes.

    2. Wall’s Ineligibility for the JSC

    The second applicant, Pheona Nabasa Wall, was constitutionally disqualified from being nominated to the JSC. Article 146(2)(b) of the Constitution requires nominees to have 15 years of standing as an advocate of the High Court. Wall’s candidacy was contested by the ULS Elections Committee, which submitted an affidavit from Brownie Ebal stating that Wall had only 14.6 years of standing as of December 3, 2024.

    This affidavit, a critical piece of evidence, was never challenged or controverted by Wall. Under Ugandan case law, uncontroverted evidence is deemed admitted. In Samwiri Massa v. Rose Achieng (1978), the Court of Appeal held that failure to rebut sworn evidence amounts to acceptance of its truth. By failing to address this disqualification as a preliminary matter, the court allowed a constitutionally flawed case to proceed.

    Had the court addressed either of these issues, the Mugisha & Wall case could have been resolved early, preserving the judiciary’s resources and ensuring compliance with constitutional and procedural law.

    Delayed Justice: A Crisis of Accountability

    Another critical issue raised by this ruling is the delayed justice that has plagued Uganda’s legal system for years. The Mugisha & Wall case is not unique—temporary injunctions like those in Brian Kirima v. ULS have effectively frozen the ULS’s ability to act for years. The main cases often remain unresolved, leaving the temporary orders in place indefinitely.

    For instance:

    In Brian Kirima v. ULS (2024), the court blocked an EGM requisitioned by ULS members, claiming it might lead to illegal resolutions. However, the main case remains unresolved, and the temporary injunction continues to prevent the ULS from fulfilling its statutory mandate.

    In Attorney General v. ULS (2024), the court ruled against an EGM to discuss judicial misconduct, citing concerns over judicial independence. This ruling has effectively shielded unelected representatives and delayed meaningful conversations about reform within the ULS.

    Such delays raise serious concerns about the judiciary’s commitment to justice. Is the judiciary using procedural delays to block reform and protect entrenched interests?

    The Unelected JSC Representatives: A Block on Reform

    The judiciary’s rulings have effectively protected unelected ULS representatives on the JSC, who continue to serve beyond their tenure. These representatives hold immense power over judicial appointments, shaping the judiciary in ways that lack public accountability. Ssemakade’s Radical New Bar sought to challenge this system by introducing elections for JSC nominees, but the judiciary’s actions have delayed this critical reform.

    Without elections, the same unelected representatives will continue to serve well past February 2025, when their lawful tenure expires. This delay not only undermines democracy but also perpetuates a system where judicial appointments remain opaque and unaccountable.

    Benedicto Kiwanuka’s Warning: A Judiciary at Risk

    The story of Benedicto Kiwanuka serves as a grim reminder of what happens when the judiciary fails to uphold the rule of law. Kiwanuka’s abduction and disappearance under Idi Amin’s regime marked the judiciary’s collapse into irrelevance. His fate was not just a personal tragedy but a warning about the dangers of judicial complacency.

    Today, the judiciary risks repeating this history. By obstructing reform and delaying justice, the courts are eroding public trust and undermining their own legitimacy. The Radical New Bar recognizes this danger and is committed to ensuring that the judiciary remains a pillar of democracy, not a shield for entrenched interests.

    A Call to Action: Defend the Rule of Law

    To the judiciary, we issue this warning: The Radical Surgery cannot be stopped. Reform is coming, and the judiciary must choose whether to lead the way or be swept aside. The courts must stop obstructing ULS EGMs, resolve cases without delay, and uphold their own precedents.

    To the ULS, we say this: Continue the fight. Defend your autonomy. Resist judicial interference. The Radical New Bar stands with you.

    Conclusion: A Revolution Awaits

    The judiciary is at a crossroads. It can choose to embrace reform, uphold accountability, and restore public trust, or it can continue to obstruct progress and protect the status quo. The Radical New Bar will not falter. We will fight for transparency, democracy, and justice at every turn.

    This is not just a reflection—it is a revolution.

    Disclaimer:
    These reflections are informed by Uganda’s legal and historical context. They do not seek to interfere with pending judicial matters but aim to provoke meaningful dialogue about the rule of law in Uganda.

  • Reflections on Protecting the Radical New Bar Revolution: A Call for Integrity and Reform in the ULS Elections

    Reflections on Protecting the Radical New Bar Revolution: A Call for Integrity and Reform in the ULS Elections



    As the Uganda Law Society (ULS) prepares for the election of its representatives to the Judicial Service Commission (JSC), we find ourselves at a critical juncture. President Isaac K. Ssemakade’s leadership under the Radical New Bar (RNB) has reignited the ULS’s commitment to justice, accountability, and transparency. Through RNB Executive Order No. 2 of 2024, he courageously recalled unelected representatives to the JSC, a move that was both revolutionary and necessary.

    This bold action was only the beginning. The forthcoming elections must uphold these revolutionary ideals by ensuring compliance with the law and protecting the credibility of the ULS.

    Salute comrade Kafuko Nicholas.
    I take this moment to personally credit Kafuko Nicholas, whose letter to the ULS Electoral Commission was the first to sound the alarm on the eligibility of certain candidates for the JSC positions. His insights into the inconsistencies and potential breaches of the law were not only timely but crucial in sparking this debate. Kafuko’s determination and dedication to upholding the rule of law remind us that true change begins with individuals willing to challenge the status quo.

    The Fundamental Issue: Greed and Conflict of Interest

    One cannot help but reflect on the underlying motivation of individuals who seek to hold onto one public office while simultaneously vying for representation in another. This is not merely a question of eligibility; it is a manifestation of greed of the highest order.

    The role of a ULS representative to the JSC demands complete independence, impartiality, and a commitment to the society’s interests above all else. Clinging to a public office while seeking this role undermines these principles. It reflects an unwillingness to relinquish power and privileges, raising serious questions about the candidate’s intentions and priorities.

    Public Officers and Electoral Integrity

    The Constitution of Uganda provides a clear definition of public officers under Article 175(a) and (b): those holding positions in public service and drawing their salaries from the Consolidated Fund. This definition unequivocally includes individuals employed in public universities, statutory bodies, and other government-funded entities.

    Uganda’s electoral laws for mainstream offices, including Members of Parliament, the Presidency, and Local Government, require public officers to resign before contesting. This ensures that such candidates do not misuse state resources or exploit their official positions to gain an unfair advantage.

    In the Mukasa v. Uganda Revenue Authority (Civil Appeal No. 78 of 2009) case, the Court of Appeal reinforced the understanding that public officers are individuals whose remuneration originates from government funds. This precedent further solidifies the argument that those holding public offices must resign before contesting for positions such as ULS representatives to the JSC.

    The Role of the Radical New Bar.

    President Ssemakade has laid the foundation for a new era of accountability and transparency within the ULS. However, the true test of the Radical New Bar Revolution lies in its ability to confront systemic flaws and safeguard the integrity of its processes.

    The nomination of public officers for the JSC election represents a clear conflict of interest and a betrayal of the principles the ULS stands for. Allowing such individuals to contest would not only violate the law but also tarnish the credibility of the Radical New Bar.

    My Reflections: Greed vs. Service

    At its core, the ULS represents a commitment to justice, fairness, and public service. The pursuit of multiple offices for personal gain betrays these values. It signals a prioritization of self-interest over the collective good of the legal fraternity and the judiciary.

    To those clinging to their public offices while seeking election to the JSC, I say this: the Radical New Bar is not a vehicle for your ambitions. It is a movement for accountability and reform, and it will not accommodate greed or unethical practices.

    A Call to Action: Reform and Accountability

    The ULS must seize this opportunity to address the systemic gaps that have allowed this situation to arise. I call upon the following stakeholders to act decisively:

    1. Uganda Law Society
    Amend the ULS Elections Regulations to explicitly require the resignation of public officers before nomination. This will align ULS processes with national electoral standards and prevent future ambiguities.


    2. Parliament of Uganda
    Introduce comprehensive reforms to harmonize electoral laws across all institutions, ensuring that the principles applied to mainstream elections are equally enforced in quasi-governmental and professional bodies.


    3. Judicial Service Commission
    Uphold strict eligibility criteria and work closely with the ULS to ensure that representatives are selected through a lawful and transparent process.


    4. Civil Society and Legal Advocacy Groups
    Amplify public awareness of these issues and hold all stakeholders accountable for maintaining the integrity of the JSC election.


    5. Legal Fraternity
    Embrace the spirit of reform and actively oppose any attempts to subvert the principles of fairness and transparency.



    Protecting the Revolution

    The Radical New Bar has sparked a revolution, but revolutions are fragile. They require constant vigilance, courageous leadership, and an unwavering commitment to the values they seek to uphold.

    President Ssemakade has demonstrated his willingness to confront the status quo, but his legacy—and the legacy of the Radical New Bar—depends on what we do next. By enforcing the law, addressing systemic flaws, and rejecting greed and self-interest, we can ensure that the ULS remains a beacon of justice and integrity.

    Conclusion

    The forthcoming election of ULS representatives to the Judicial Service Commission is not just a procedural matter; it is a defining moment for the Radical New Bar Revolution. We must honor the contributions of individuals like Kafuko Nicholas, whose vigilance has highlighted critical flaws in the process.

    Let this be a turning point. Let us demand accountability, embrace reform, and reject greed in all its forms. Together, we can protect the Radical New Bar Revolution and ensure that the Uganda Law Society lives up to its mission as a guardian of justice and fairness.

    The time to act is now. Let us build a legacy of integrity and accountability that will inspire future generations of legal professionals.

    About the Author.

    ENEN AMBROSE

    The author is a Rule of Law enthusiast, a fan of President Isaac K Ssemakade and the Radical New Bar Revolution. He practices with M/S Okurut-Magara Associated Advocates in the up country Town of Adjumani.

    DISCLAIMER:

    This write up contains merely personal reflections for information purposes and is not intended to provide legal advice. Readers are strongly encouraged to seek the services of a professional attorney in their area of Jurisdiction for situation specific advice and appropriate courses of action.

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    Mobile: 0789856805

    Email: ambrosenen@gmail.com

  • Safeguarding the Revolution: My Perspective on President Isaac K. Ssemakadde and the Radical New Bar

    Safeguarding the Revolution: My Perspective on President Isaac K. Ssemakadde and the Radical New Bar

    Credit. Isaac Ssemakade, profile photo on X (formerly Twitter)

    As an observer of the Uganda Law Society (ULS) and a proponent of transparency, fairness, and integrity within the legal profession, I find myself deeply aligned with the vision of President Isaac K. Ssemakadde. His leadership has been a crucial turning point for the ULS, not only through structural reforms but also by ensuring that individuals representing the Society, particularly in influential bodies like the Judicial Service Commission (JSC), meet the highest standards of moral character and constitutional integrity.

    Through his missives and public critiques, Ssemakadde is safeguarding a revolution—one that seeks to restore democratic principles, uphold the rule of law, and demand that those in leadership roles within the ULS and beyond exemplify high moral standing. I believe that in his recent actions, particularly his response to the election candidates for the JSC, Ssemakadde is doing much more than critiquing individuals—he is defending the integrity of the Radical New Bar.

    The Radical New Bar: A Vision for a Just and Transparent Legal Profession

    Ssemakadde’s vision, the Radical New Bar, reflects an urgent need for reform within the ULS, especially in its representation and governance structures. When he took office, it was clear that internal democracy had long been sidelined, leaving members with limited influence over key decisions. The Radical New Bar seeks to reverse this trend by ensuring that the ULS becomes an organization that truly listens to its members and works in the best interest of justice, transparency, and accountability.

    For me, the essence of the Radical New Bar is this: we cannot expect a society that represents justice if its leaders and representatives do not embody the principles of fairness, integrity, and moral strength. Ssemakadde’s actions demonstrate that the ULS should not merely be an institution concerned with professional development but a leader in ensuring democratic representation and ethical conduct.

    My Take on Regulation 17(5): A Necessary Safeguard for Electoral Integrity

    One of the more contentious aspects of the ULS Election Regulations is Regulation 17(5), which restricts media campaigns during elections to closed ULS groups. Critics argue that this regulation stifles freedom of expression by limiting candidates’ ability to campaign publicly. However, in my view, Regulation 17(5) plays an essential role in preserving the integrity of the election process.

    I believe that the primary function of the ULS election is to determine the best candidates based on their professional qualifications and commitment to the rule of law—not based on their ability to manipulate public opinion through media campaigns. Ssemakadde’s recent presser, condemning unauthorized media promotions that aimed to influence the election results, aligns with the intent of Regulation 17(5). In his actions, he is not only safeguarding the election’s fairness but also upholding the professionalism that should define the ULS elections. By ensuring that candidates are evaluated on their merits rather than their media presence, Ssemakadde is, in my view, defending the Radical New Bar against the dangers of external influence.

    In this light, Regulation 17(5) ensures that the focus of the election remains within the ULS community, allowing for a more substantive and focused campaign. For me, it’s a safeguard that ensures fair representation—a vital piece of the Radical New Bar’s broader vision.

    The Yasin Sentumbwe and Simon Semuwemba Case: Safeguarding Fairness and Justice

    Another example of Ssemakadde safeguarding the revolution lies in his defense of Yasin Sentumbwe and Simon Semuwemba, two students expelled from Uganda Christian University (UCU) in 2016 for leading protests against a tuition fee hike. The students were expelled without a fair hearing, and the Mukono High Court subsequently ruled that the university had violated their rights to natural justice. The Court reinstated the students and awarded them Shs 20 million in damages.

    In this context, when Ssemakadde publicly critiqued Dr. Kakooza for his role in the unlawful expulsion of the students, he was doing more than protecting individual rights. He was protecting the integrity of the ULS by calling out those whose actions fail to meet the constitutional muster for leadership. For me, this was a critical moment in safeguarding the revolution, ensuring that those who represent the ULS in positions of power, such as the JSC, must demonstrate an unwavering commitment to justice and fairness.

    Pheona Wall: The Stifling of Internal Democracy

    Ssemakadde’s critique of former ULS President Pheona Wall also serves as an example of him safeguarding the revolution. During Wall’s presidency, Ruth Sebatindira and Nora Matovu Winyi were nominated to the Judicial Service Commission, but their nominations were met with internal resistance from within the ULS Council. Specifically, Amolo Shamim, the Northern Uganda Representative during Francis Gimara’s presidency, publicly protested the nominations and expressed concerns about the lack of consultation anFor Ssemakadde, Wall’s actions represented a failure to respect internal democracy. Her nomination bid was nothing less than hypocrisy and double standards.

    Ssemakadde’s critique is, for me, an important reminder that leadership in the ULS should be inclusive, transparent, and responsive to the needs and views of its members. By calling out Wall’s failure to engage with internal opposition, Ssemakadde ensured that the Radical New Bar did not slip back into the undemocratic practices of the past.

    Ssemakadde’s Legacy: A Leader for Integrity

    Through his missives, public critiques, and his commitment to ensuring that only those with high moral standing and proven integrity are allowed to represent the ULS in influential roles, President Ssemakadde is safeguarding the revolution. His work is not only about structural reforms; it is about ensuring that the Radical New Bar remains true to its core principles of justice, accountability, and moral integrity.

    As we look toward the 17th December, 2024 ULS elections for our representatives to the Judicial Service Commission, I believe that the path Ssemakadde has laid will lead to a stronger, more transparent ULS—one that is rooted in democratic values and constitutional integrity. The Radical New Bar is not just a vision for reform; it is a movement for change that calls on all ULS members to take ownership of the future of Uganda’s legal profession.

    In his missives, Ssemakadde is not simply criticizing individuals; he is protecting the gains of the Radical New Bar Revolution and the integrity of the ULS, ensuring that it remains a beacon of justice, and a force for fairness in Uganda’s legal landscape. Through these efforts, Ssemakadde is laying the groundwork for a legal community that can lead the way in accountability, integrity, and the rule of law. This is the future of the ULS—a future shaped by the Radical New Bar, one that will thrive in an environment of justice and democratic engagement.

    About the author.

    The author is a rule of Law enthusiast and a huge fan of President Isaac Ssemakade, the current President of the Uganda Law Society.

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