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Crony Capitalism and State Capture 2: Documents Reveal the Kenyatta Family’s Plans to Take over Lending to SMEs

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A proposed mobile phone lending platform called Wezesha and described as a “collaborative initiative to bridge the access to credit by micro and small enterprises”, will be managed by five banks under the leadership of the Kenyatta Family-owned Commercial Bank of Africa. The Huduma Number initiative is central to the new scheme, and could explain the government’s insistence on rolling out biometric Identity Cards.

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Crony Capitalism and State Capture 2: Documents Reveal the Kenyatta Family’s Plans to Take over Lending to SMEs
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“Uhuru Kenyatta’s assumption of the presidency has injected fresh energy into his family’s commercial empire, putting a number of its units on an expansion mode that is expected to consolidate its position as one of the largest business dynasties in Kenya”
Business Daily, Monday, November 11, 2013.

A few days ago, the Dairy Board of Kenya published, then recalled, draft regulations that sought, among other things, to outlaw and criminalize farmer-to-consumer raw milk sales. Essentially farmers would be compelled to sell milk to processors or other intermediaries (cooperatives or businesses) licensed and regulated by the Board. The withdrawal was in response to a huge public blowback, including a trending hashtag #Kenyattamilkbill, mobilising for the reactivation of the boycott against Brookside Dairy products. It was notable that the Dairy Board’s reversal of its draft regulations followed a press release by Brookside Dairies objecting to the regulations citing specifically the levies that the Board proposed on dairy businesses. Tellingly, Brookside’s statement was silent on the question of outlawing farmer to consumer raw milk sales.

This story is about an even more audacious scheme in the Kenyatta empire’s “expansion drive”, the most egregious case of policy and regulatory capture I have encountered…

As a previous column, Crony Capitalism and State Capture: The Kenyatta Family Story observed, Uhuru Kenyatta’s presidency has delivered remarkable returns-on-investment for the family enterprise:

“During Uhuru Kenyatta’s first term the consumer price of milk increased 67 percent (from KSh 36 to KSh 60 per half-litre packet), while producer prices remained unchanged at Sh 35 per litre), effectively increasing processors’ gross margin by 130 percent (from Sh37 to Sh 85 per litre). Given the industry’s 400m litre annual throughput and Kenyatta family’s market share, which stands at 45 percent, the consumer squeeze translates to an increase of the Kenyatta Family’s turnover from KSh 13 billion to KSh 22 billion, and gross margin from KSh 6.7 billion to KSh 15 billion a year.”

Not enough, not by a long shot.

The platform will offer micro and small enterprises an overdraft facility of up to KSh 50,000, and a loan of up to 12 months with a limit of KSh 200,000. The initiative targets five million sign-ups, and two million users in the first year. How it plans to do this is a frightening demonstration of the workings of state capture in the Uhuru Kenyatta era.

Kenya’s annual milk production is estimated at 3.5 billion litres, of which 80 percent is consumed or traded informally. Put another way, only 20 percent, about 600,000 litres, is handled by processors. If these regulations were only to double the processors intake to 50 percent, we are talking of growing Brookside’s turnover and gross margin to KSh100 billion and KSh 67 billion respectively.

But this column is not about the milk, at least not literally – even if the milking metaphor is quite apt. This story is about an even more audacious scheme in the Kenyatta empire’s “expansion drive”, the most egregious case of policy and regulatory capture I have encountered, and I have been round this block a few times. What follows is based on an internal document entitled ‘Restoring Credit Access to Micro and Small Sized Businesses’ shared by whistleblowers in institutions that have been corralled into the scheme by force.

The Huduma Number connection starts with an innocuous statement in a slide presentation titled “How Customers will Qualify” that ends with a bullet point stating that “customers that don’t immediately qualify can opt into a credit access plan”.

The name of the scheme is Wezesha (‘enable’). It is a proposed mobile phone lending platform described as a “collaborative initiative to bridge the access to credit by micro and small enterprises”. It will be managed by five banks, namely NIC Bank, Diamond Trust Bank (DTB), the Kenya Commercial Bank and Cooperative Bank under the leadership of the Kenyatta Family-owned Commercial Bank of Africa. CBA is in the process of acquiring NIC, alongside the smaller microfinance oriented Jamii Bora bank. KCB, Kenya’s largest bank by asset base, and Cooperative Bank, are quasi-public banks, while Diamond Trust Bank is associated with the Aga Khan. The platform will offer micro and small enterprises an overdraft facility of up to KSh 50,000, and a loan of up to 12 months with a limit of KSh 200,000. The initiative targets five million sign-ups, and two million users in the first year. How it plans to do this is a frightening demonstration of the workings of state capture in the Uhuru Kenyatta era.

When it was launched we were threatened that Kenyans who did not register would be denied public services. We are compelled to ask whether this threat, and its prominence in this scheme are related. Are the president’s commercial interests the force behind the Huduma Number?

First observation: the contentious Huduma Number initiative features prominently in the scheme. The Huduma Number connection starts with an innocuous statement in a slide (the documentation is a powerpoint presentation) titled “How Customers will Qualify” that ends with a bullet point stating that “customers that don’t immediately qualify can opt into a credit access plan (consumer education).” How so, is elaborated in another slide titled “Customer Education At Huduma Universal Service Kiosk” complete with the Huduma Kenya logo. Further along, in another slide titled “Functional Schema” a bullet point: “Distribution: An integrated network of GoK Huduma Centres, Bank Branches and agent locations to ‘onboard’ customers and offer information and advice to capital and business opportunities.”

When Huduma Number was launched we were threatened that Kenyans who did not register would be denied public services. We are compelled to ask whether this threat, and its prominence in this scheme are related. Are the president’s commercial interests the force behind the Huduma Number?

But perhaps the question is already answered in another slide titled “Phase 2 Support for Scalability”: New Huduma ID to be integrated once it is ready. This scheme could be used as a registration incentive.”

The funding partners propose that the GoK establishes a credit risk guarantee fund, that is administered by the Central Bank of Kenya, to provide mezzanine credit risk cover for any credit losses above three percent, up to the prevailing NPL rate.

Also to be leveraged for scaling: “Moratorium from KRA Pin and Tax payment”. This statement requires some thought. What would give a private business scheme the audacity to propose a tax compliance waiver as a tactic to attract customers?

But the crux, is this:

“The funding partners propose that the GoK establishes a credit risk guarantee fund, that is administered by the Central Bank of Kenya, to provide mezzanine credit risk cover for any credit losses above three percent, up to the prevailing NPL rate.”

Some background is necessary. The cost of bank credit is arrived at as follows:

Cost of funds + Target income + Loan loss provision (NPLs)

Cost of funds is the interest the bank pays on deposits. Target income is the bank’s calculated profit margin that will translate into an acceptable return on investment. Loan loss provision is

the income that the bank sets aside to compensate for loans that are not repaid. Banks are required by the regulator to “provide” from their income equivalent to non-performing loans (NPLs).

Based on this costing, the Scheme’s promoters seem to have arrived at the conclusion that the initiative is not commercially viable. They appear to have determined this in the following way: The lending rate is set at nine percent arrived at by setting cost of funds, target income and a target loan loss provision at three percent each. Next, the Scheme factors in the Kenyan banking sector’s actual NPL rate, which was 11.6 percent at the close of 2018. They then calculate that at 9 percent the initiative would have run at loss of 5.6 percent (9 – 3-11.6 = -5.6).

This is how the case for a public credit guarantee scheme is made. In the computation provided, the public credit risk guarantee would cover the difference between banks’ target and the industry NPL. In the documents that we have seen, an example is provided in which the target NPL is set at three percent as above; the industry NPL at 10 percent and the actual NPL of the lending scheme is set at 12 percent. In this case, the public would pay seven percent (10% – 3%) and the banks would absorb five percent, the target income is projected at three percent, and the additional two percent that is over and above the industry NPL of 10 percent.

Let me illustrate. If for argument’s sake, the scheme lent out KSh 100 billion at nine percent, a 12 percent NPL reduces the performing portfolio to KSh 88 billion, which translates to an interest income of KSh 7.92 billion. A 12 percent loan loss provision (KSh 12 billion) changes that to an interest income loss of KSh 4 billion. But above three percent NPL the public credit insurance kicks in and injects KSh 7 billion, making a total revenue of KSh 14.92 billion (less KSh 12 billion loan loss provision) leaving a net revenue of Sh. 2.92 billion. This translates to a loss of KSh 0.8 million, given that the cost of funds is KSh 3 billion.

What are we missing?

This is a very strange way of pricing a product. The conventional way is to do one of two things: (a) cost the product and compare it with the market price; or (b) take the market price and work backwards to see whether you can beat the price. Sometimes, the product may cost more than the completion, then it becomes a question of whether it can be sold at a premium, like for example, an iPhone, or a Ferrari.

Either way, one arrives at a break-even interest rate of 17.6 percent by adding up the cost of funds (three percent), the targeted income (three percent) and industry NPL rate (11.6 percent).

The next question is whether they would get sufficient uptake of the product at say 18-20 percent. The answer is an unequivocal yes.

For mobile money loans, the money is not in the interest rate but in the transaction fees.

So, why would these banks price the loans to SMEs, the riskiest segment of the market, at 9 percent (about the same as Treasury Bill rate), which for all intents and purpose is the risk-free rate?

For mobile money loans, the money is not in the interest income charged on loans but in the transaction fees. In fact, most products do not charge interest at all. The pricing structure varies widely. To get the actual cost of the loans, we need to calculate a standardized rate known as the Annual Percentage Rate (APR). The APR is obtained by adding up all the cost of the loan and converting them to the equivalent annual interest rate, for example a three month, KSh 10,000 loan with a 5% fee and interest of 2.5% per month costs 1250 (Sh. 500 fee plus Sh. 750 interest) which annualizes to KSh 5000 (Sh. 1250 x 4), which is an APR of 50%. KCB charges a 2.5 percent transaction fee and interest rate of 1.16 percent a month for loans ranging from one to six months which works out to APR of 19% to 44% for the six and one month loans respectively. In general, the shorter the term, the more expensive. CBA charges a 7.5 percent fee for a one-month Mshwari loan. This is an APR of 90 percent. The recently launched Fuliza overdraft tariff range from 5/- a day for amounts below KSh 500 to KSh 30 per day for amounts above KSh. 2500. A Sh.10,000 Fuliza overdraft at KSh 30 per day translates to an APR of 110 percent.

When fees are factored in, the case for public credit insurance collapses like a house of cards.

Let’s go back to the monetary illustration. Assume the scheme achieves its borrowing target of two million customers. Our portfolio of KSh100 billion works out to an average individual loan of KSh. 20,000. Further, assume they churn the funds six times a year, that is, each of the customer borrows and repays a loan every two months on average. A five percent transaction fee translates to an income of KSh12 billion a year, and a total income of KSh19.92 billion — well above the 18 percent required for the scheme to meet its profit target.

So what is going on here? First, Wezesha is simply a scheme to fleece the public. In today’s financial lingo, the Scheme is fully “de-risked”…par for the course in “public-private partnership” (PPP) business, where the profits are privatized, but the losses are socialized (i.e. borne by the public). The second, is to see Wezesha as a strategy to finance undercutting the competition by pricing below cost at entry, with the intention of charging monopoly prices once the competition is driven out of business.

The nine percent interest is a bait. Its purpose is to make the case for the proposed government credit insurance scheme by purporting to offer SMEs affordable credit.

So what is going on here? There are two ways to look at it. First, Wezesha is simply a scheme to fleece the public. In today’s financial lingo, the Scheme is fully “de-risked.” This is par for the course in “public-private partnership” (PPP) ventures, where the profits are privatized, but the losses are socialized (i.e. borne by the public).

The second, is to see Wezesha as a strategy to finance undercutting the competition by pricing below cost at entry, with the intention of charging monopoly prices once the competition is driven out of business. In competition economics, we call this predatory pricing. It is illegal under competition law. In this case, the public insurance serves both as a financial cushion as well as insurance from regulatory scrutiny.

The CBA already controls consumer credit data on account of its Safaricom partnership. This Scheme is designed to make the CBA the gatekeeper for the entire banking and financial services to micro-and small-enterprises.

As students of economics and finance know from the concept of information asymmetry, the most important asset in credit markets is information about customers’ creditworthiness. On the strategy for “scaling up” the documents refer to “integration to other financial institutions and service providers.” The intention is clear. First, use the government machinery and public money to drive customer acquisition. The CBA already controls consumer credit data on account of its Safaricom partnership. This Scheme is designed to make the CBA the gatekeeper for the entire banking and financial services to micro-and small enterprises, and I quote: “CBA Digital shall play a lead arranger role to develop and operate the credit risk management model for the full credit lifecycle.”

Even if there was an economic rationale for a credit insurance scheme of this kind, no government in its right mind would confer such a market advantage to some players. It is instructive that, in what looks like a case of the tail wagging the dog, KCB the crown jewel of public banks has been brought into the scheme. We should not be surprised if down the road, it turns out to be an acquisition target.

Uhuru Kenyatta’s sole accomplishment after extricating himself from the ICC may turn out to be framing the corruption issue exclusively as plunder of the budget, perhaps even deliberately giving his associates leeway in that theatre—recall “mnataka nifanye nini” (what do you want me to do)— as he provides cover for the Family to do the more serious boardroom stuff. Plunder of the budget ends once the thieves leave office. Wholesale enclosure of large chunks of the economy will keep the dynasty in the black long after he has left office.

Welcome to the Kenyatta Republic Inc.

David Ndii
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David Ndii is a leading Kenyan economist and public intellectual.

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What Kenyans Have Always Wanted is to Limit the Powers of the Executive

As Kenya’s political class considers expanding the executive branch of government, no one seems to be talking about restricting its powers.

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What Kenyans Have Always Wanted is to Limit the Powers of the Executive
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The tyranny of numbers, a phrase first applied to Kenyan politics by one of Kenya’s most well-known political commentators, Mutahi Ngunyi, was repeated ad nauseum during the week of waiting that followed Kenya’s 2013 general elections.

In ads published in the run-up to the 2013 elections by the Independent Electoral and Boundaries Commission (IEBC), people were told to vote, go home and accept the results. Encouraged by a state that had since the 2007 post-electoral violence dominated public discourse and means of coercion, the military pitched camp in polling stations. Many streets in Kenya’s cities and towns remained deserted for days after the polls closed.

According to Ngunyi, the winner of the 2013 elections had been known four months earlier, that is, when the electoral commission stopped registering voters.

In a country whose politics feature a dominant discourse that links political party and ethnicity, the outcome of voter registration that year meant that the Uhuru Kenyatta and William Ruto-led coalition, the Jubilee Alliance, would start the electoral contest with 47 per cent of the vote assured. With these statistics, their ticket appeared almost impossible to beat. For ethnic constituencies that did not eventually vote for Uhuru Kenyatta – the Jubilee Alliance presidential candidate in 2013 – a sense of hopelessness was widespread.

For them, a bureaucratic, professionalised, dispassionate (even boring) discourse became the main underpinning of the 2013 elections.

This was not the case in 2017.

Uhuru Kenyatta, pressured by opposition protests and a Supreme Court ruling that challenged his victory and ordered a re-run, met with Raila Odinga – his challenger for the presidency in the 2013 and 2017 elections – and offered a settlement. It became known as the Building Bridges Initiative (BBI).

In his 2020 Jamhuri Day speech, Uhuru reiterated that the purpose of the BBI process is to abolish the winner-takes-all system by expanding the executive branch of government.

As he explained it, the challenge to Kenya’s politics is the politicisation of ethnicity coupled with a lack of the requisite number of political offices within the executive branch that would satisfy all ethnic constituencies – Kenya has 42 enumerated ethnic groups.

The revised BBI report that was released on 21 October 2020 (the first was published in November 2019) has now retained the position of president, who, if the recommendations are voted for in a referendum, will also get to appoint a prime minister, two deputy prime ministers and a cabinet.

Amid heckles and jeers during the launch of the revised BBI report, Deputy President William Ruto asked whether the establishment of the positions of prime minister and two deputy prime ministers would create the much sought-after inclusivity. In his Jamhuri Day speech, the president conceded that they wouldn’t, but that the BBI-proposed position of Leader of Official Opposition – with a shadow cabinet, technical support and a budget – would mean that the loser of the presidential election would still have a role to play in governance.

One could not help but think that the president’s statement was informed by the fact that Odinga lost to him in both the 2013 and 2017 presidential elections –  this despite Odinga’s considerable political influence over vast areas of the country.

The 2010 constitution’s pure presidential system doesn’t anticipate any formal political role for the loser(s) of a presidential election. Raila held no public office between 2013 and 2017, when he lost to Uhuru. This did not help to address the perception amongst his supporters that they had been excluded from the political process for many years. In fact, Raila’s party had won more gubernatorial posts across the country’s 47 counties than the ruling Jubilee Alliance had during the 2013 elections.

While Raila’s attempts to remain politically relevant in the five years between 2013 and 2017 were largely ignored by Uhuru, the resistance against Uhuru’s victory in 2017 wasn’t.

The anger felt by Raila’s supporters in 2017 following the announcement that Uhuru had won the elections – again – could not be separated from the deeply-entrenched feelings of exclusion and marginalisation that were at the centre of the violence that followed the protracted and disputed elections.

The reading of Kenyan politics that is currently being rendered by the BBI process is that all ethnic constituencies must feel that they (essentially, their co-ethnic leaders) are playing a role in what is an otherwise overly centralised, executive-bureaucratic state. This is despite the fact that previous attempts to limit the powers of the executive branch by spreading them across other levels of government have often invited a backlash from the political class.

Kenya’s independence constitution had provided for a Westminster-style, parliamentary system of government, and took power and significant functions of government away from the centralised government in Nairobi, placing significant responsibility (over land, security and education, for instance) in the hands of eight regional governments of equal status known in Swahili as majimbo. The majimbo system was abolished and, between 1964 to 1992, the government was headed by an executive president and the constitution amended over twenty times – largely empowering the executive branch at the expense of parliament and the judiciary. The powers of the president were exercised for the benefit of the president’s cronies and co-ethnics.

By 2010 there was not a meaningful decentralised system of government. The executive, and the presidency at its head, continued to survive attempts at limiting their powers. This has continued since 2010.

As Kenya’s political class considers expanding the executive branch of government, no one seems to be talking about restricting its powers.

Beyond the minimum of 35 per cent of national revenue that the BBI report proposes should be allocated to county governments, it is less clear whether the country’s leaders are prepared to decentralise significant powers and resources away from the executive, and away from Nairobi.

Perhaps the real solution to the challenges of governance the BBI process purports to address is to follow the prescriptions of the defunct Yash Pal Ghai team – it went around the country collecting views for constitutional change in 2003-2004.

According to a paper written by Ghai himself, the Ghai-led Constitution of Kenya Review Commission (CKRC) had no doubt that, consistent with the goals of the review and the people’s views, there had to be a transfer of very substantial powers and functions of government to local levels.

The CKRC noted – much like Uhuru Kenyatta and Raila Odinga now have – that the centralised presidential system tends to ethnicise politics, which threatens national unity.

Kenyans told the CKRC that decisions were made at places far away from them; that their problems arose from government policies over which they had no control; that they wanted greater control over their own destiny and to be free to determine their lifestyle choices and their affairs; and not to be told that they are not patriotic enough!

Yes, the BBI report has proposed that 5 per cent of county revenue be allocated to Members of County Assemblies for a newly-created Ward Development Fund, and that businesses set up by young Kenyans be exempted from taxation for the first seven years of operation. However, this doesn’t amount to any meaningful surrender of power and resources by the executive.

In emphasising the importance of exercising control at the local level, Kenyans told the CKRC that they wanted more communal forms of organisation and a replacement of the infamous Administration Police with a form of community policing. They considered that more powers and resources at the local level would give them greater influence over their parliamentary and local representatives, including greater control over jobs, land and land-based resources.  In short, Kenyans have always yearned for a dispersion of power away from the presidency, and away from the executive and Nairobi. They have asked for the placing of responsibility for public affairs in the hands of additional and more localised levels of government.

This is what would perhaps create the much sought-after inclusivity.

But as the BBI debate rages on, the attention of the political class is now on the proposed new positions within the executive branch. And as the debate becomes inexorably linked to the 2022 Kenyatta-succession race, questions centring on political positions will likely become personalised, especially after the political class cobbles together coalitions to contest the 2022 general elections.

Meanwhile, ordinary Kenyans will be left battling the aftermath of a pandemic, and having to deal with the usual stresses brought on by a political class seeking their votes for another round of five years of exclusion.

The more things change, the more they remain the same.

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Democracy for Some, Mere Management for Others

The coming election in Uganda is significant because if there is to be managed change, it will never find a more opportune moment.

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Democracy for Some, Mere Management for Others
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Western powers slowly tied a noose round their own necks by first installing Uganda’s National Resistance Movement regime, and then supporting it uncritically as it embarked on its adventures in militarism, plunder and human rights violations inside and outside Uganda’s borders.

They are now faced with a common boss problem: what to do with an employee of very long standing (possibly even inherited from a predecessor) who may now know more about his department than the new bosses, and who now carries so many of the company’s secrets that summary dismissal would be a risky undertaking?

The elections taking place in Uganda this week have brought that dilemma into sharp relief.

An initial response would be to simply allow this sometimes rude employee to carry on. The problem is time. In both directions. The employee is very old, and those he seeks to manage are very young, and also very poor and very aspirational because of being very young. And also therefore very angry.

Having a president who looks and speaks like them, and whose own personal life journey symbolises their own ambitions, would go a very long way to placating them. This, if for no other reason, is why the West must seriously consider finding a way to induce the good and faithful servant to give way. Nobody lives forever. And so replacement is inevitable one way or another.

But this is clearly not a unified position. The United Kingdom, whose intelligence services were at the forefront of installing the National Resistance Movement/Army (NRM/A) in power nearly forty years ago, remains quietly determined to stand by President Yoweri Museveni’s side.

On the other hand, opinion in America’s corridors of power seems divided. With standing operations in Somalia, and a history of western-friendly interventions in Rwanda, the Democratic Republic of Congo, South Sudan, and even Kenya, the Ugandan military is perceived as a huge (and cut-price) asset to the West’s regional security concerns.

The DRC, in particular, with its increasing significance as the source of much of the raw materials that will form the basis of the coming electric engine revolution, has been held firmly in the orbit of Western corporations through the exertions of the regime oligarchs controlling Uganda’s security establishment. To this, one may add the growing global agribusiness revolution in which the fertile lands of the Great Lakes Region are targeted for clearing and exploitation, and for which the regime offers facilitation.

Such human resource is hard to replace and therefore not casually disposed of.

These critical resource questions are backstopped by unjust politics themselves held in place by military means. The entire project therefore hinges ultimately on who has the means to physically enforce their exploitation. In our case, those military means have been personalised to one individual and a small circle of co-conspirators, often related by blood and ethnicity.

However, time presses. Apart from the ageing autocrat at the centre, there is also a time bomb in the form of an impoverished and anxious population of unskilled, under-employed (if at all) and propertyless young people. Change beckons for all sides, whether planned for or not.

This is why this coming election is significant. If there is to be managed change, it will never find a more opportune moment. Even if President Museveni is once again declared winner, there will still remain enough political momentum and pressure that could be harnessed by his one-time Western friends to cause him to look for the exit. It boils down to whether the American security establishment could be made to believe that the things that made President Museveni valuable to them, are transferable elsewhere into the Uganda security establishment. In short, that his sub-imperial footprint can be divorced from his person and entrusted, if not to someone like candidate Robert Kyagulanyi, then at least to security types already embedded within the state structure working under a new, youthful president.

Three possible outcomes then: Kyagulanyi carrying the vote and being declared the winner; Kyagulanyi carrying the vote but President Museveni being declared the winner; or failure to have a winner declared. In all cases, there will be trouble. In the first, a Trump-like resistance from the incumbent. In the second and the third, the usual mass disturbances that have followed each announcement of the winner of the presidential election since the 1990s.

Once the Ugandan political crisis — a story going back to the 1960s — is reduced to a security or “law and order” problem, the West usually sides with whichever force can quickest restore the order they (not we) need.

And this is how the NRM tail seeks to still wag the Western dog: the run-up to voting day has been characterised by heavy emphasis on the risk of alleged “hooligans” out to cause mayhem (“burning down the city” being a popular bogeyman). The NRM’s post-election challenge will be to quickly strip the crisis of all political considerations and make it a discussion about security.

But it would be strategically very risky to try to get Uganda’s current young electorate — and the even younger citizens in general — to accept that whatever social and economic conditions they have lived through in the last few decades (which for most means all of their lives given how young they are) are going to remain in place for even just the next five years. They will not buy into the promises they have seen broken in the past. Their numbers, their living conditions, their economic prospects and their very youth would then point to a situation of permanent unrest.

However, it can be safely assumed that the NRM regime will, to paraphrase US President Donald Trump, not accept any election result that does not declare it the winner.

Leave things as they are and deal with the inevitable degeneration of politics beyond its current state, or enforce a switch now under the cover of an election, or attempt to enforce a switch in the aftermath of the election by harnessing the inevitable discontent.

Those are the boss’ options.

In the meantime, there is food to be grown and work to be done.

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Uganda Elections 2021: The Elephant Website Blocked Ahead of Poll

For about a month now, some of our readers within Uganda have been reporting problems accessing the website. Following receipt of these reports, we launched investigations which have established that The Elephant has been blocked by some, though not all, internet service providers in the country.

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Uganda Elections 2021: The Elephant Website Blocked Ahead of Poll
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Dear Readers/Viewers,

For four years now, The Elephant has been one of the premier online sources of news analysis in the East African region with a fast-growing readership across the African continent and beyond.

For about a month now, some of our readers within Uganda have been reporting problems accessing the website. Following receipt of these reports, we launched investigations which have established that The Elephant has been blocked by some, though not all, internet service providers in the country.

We have further ascertained that the directive to do so came from the Uganda Communication Commission (UCC) and was implemented beginning 12 December 2020, when we noticed a sudden traffic drop coming from several providers in Uganda, including Africell and Airtel. A forensics report, which provides technical details on the blocking, is available here.

We have written to the UCC requesting a reason for the blocking but are yet to receive a response.

The Elephant wholeheartedly condemns this assault on free speech and on freedom of the press and calls on the Ugandan government to respect the rights of Ugandans to access information.

We would like to assure all our readers that we are doing everything in our power to get the restrictions removed and hope normal access can be restored expeditiously.

As we do this, to circumvent the block, a Bifrost mirror has been deployed. Readers in Uganda can once again access The Elephant on this link.

Thank you.

Best Regards

John Githongo
Publisher

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