A in Kamuli: A Tragic Loss Amid NRM Primaries and a Call for Peace

A  in Kamuli: A Tragic Loss Amid NRM Primaries and a Call for Peace

In Uganda, elections are more than politics—they’re a pulse of our nation’s hopes, dreams, and sometimes, its deepest pains. The recent National Resistance Movement (NRM) primaries, a stepping stone to the 2026 general elections, were meant to be a moment of democratic energy, especially for Uganda’s youth, who make up 77% of our population. But in Kamuli, a district known for its vibrant communities and lush Busoga landscapes, that energy turned to grief. Pulse Uganda reported a devastating incident on July 18, 2025: the husband of a woman aspiring to be Kamuli’s MP was shot dead during the primaries. As someone who’s felt the weight of loss and seen how politics can stir both passion and pain, this story hit me hard. Let’s unpack this tragedy, honor the human side of it, and reflect on what it means for our country as we navigate this election season.

The news came like a thunderclap. In Kamuli, where voters gathered to choose their NRM flagbearers, a day of civic duty was shattered by violence. The husband of a female candidate—whose name carries the weight of her ambition to serve—was killed in a shooting, leaving a family broken and a community in shock. Pulse Uganda’s report, shared with stark photos of the aftermath, didn’t just deliver news; it carried the raw pain of a life cut short. I can’t stop thinking about the wife, standing tall to represent her people, now facing an unimaginable void. I remember my auntie in Jinja, who lost her brother years ago to a senseless act. She described grief as a weight that never fully lifts, and I imagine this candidate carrying that same heaviness now, her dreams of leadership intertwined with personal loss.

Details of the incident are still unfolding, but the tragedy underscores a harsh reality: Uganda’s political season can bring out the best and worst in us. The NRM primaries are a big deal—candidates campaign tirelessly, rallying supporters in markets, churches, and village squares. In Kamuli, a district of over 700,000 people, the stakes are high. It’s a place where community ties run deep, where you might know your MP as a neighbor before a politician. But politics here, like elsewhere in Uganda, can spark tensions. I’ve seen it at rallies in Kampala, where passion for change clashes with fierce loyalties, sometimes turning heated words into something darker. Pulse Uganda’s coverage doesn’t shy away from this, reminding us that violence, like this shooting, casts a shadow over our democratic hopes.

What hurts most is the human cost. This wasn’t just a “political incident”—it was a husband, maybe a father, a friend, someone who laughed over kalo with his family or shared stories at a local bar. I think of my friend David, who grew up in Kamuli and always talked about its tight-knit spirit, where people gather for weddings or funerals with equal heart. To lose someone to violence in this context feels like a betrayal of that spirit. The candidate, a woman stepping into a male-dominated political arena, was already defying odds. Now, she faces not just the challenge of campaigning but the weight of grief. It’s a reminder of the courage it takes for women in Uganda to run for office, balancing ambition with societal pressures, and now, for her, personal tragedy.

This isn’t the first time violence has marred Uganda’s elections. I recall stories from the 2021 polls—clashes, arrests, and families left mourning. Pulse Uganda’s report calls us to reflect: how do we keep our democratic process from spiraling into pain? As young Ugandans, we’re the heartbeat of this nation, and our energy can shape a better path. I’ve seen friends in Ntinda organize peaceful voter education drives, teaching youth about their rights without raising fists. We can honor this loss by pushing for peace—maybe through community dialogues in Kamuli’s villages or posts on X urging calm with hashtags like #PeacefulPrimaries. Pulse Uganda’s platform, with its massive reach, is amplifying this story to spark that conversation, and it’s on us to keep it going.

The broader picture is sobering. With the 2026 elections looming, the NRM primaries are a testing ground for Uganda’s political future. Kamuli’s tragedy is a wake-up call to address the tensions that flare when power is at stake. I think of my cousin, a first-time voter in 2021, who was so excited to cast her ballot but scared by the chaos she saw on TV. We owe her—and all young Ugandans—a process that’s safe and fair. Leaders, from NRM officials to community elders, must step up, condemning violence and ensuring justice for this family. Pulse Uganda’s coverage hints at investigations underway, but justice isn’t just about arrests—it’s about healing a community and preventing the next loss.

As I write this, I imagine the widow in Kamuli, maybe sitting with loved ones, trying to make sense of it all. My heart aches for her, but it also burns with hope. Uganda’s youth have the power to turn pain into purpose. We can rally for peaceful campaigns, support candidates who uplift rather than divide, and honor this man’s memory by voting with conscience. Let’s make Kamuli’s story a turning point, not a headline that fades. Pulse Uganda’s call to stay informed is a call to stay engaged—to build a Uganda where no one pays for democracy with their life.

Have you seen the impact of political tensions in your community? How can we make our elections peaceful? Share yourppp thoughts in the comments, and let’s work for a better Uganda together. P00