Re: To NRM, West Nile is a vote plantation—cultivated during elections, abandoned thereafter.
By Oguzu Lee
We welcome you to West Nile, a region with long stolen future. I take this opportunity to remind you that the people of West Nile have consistently turned out in large numbers to vote for the NRM, driven by hope for tangible progress. However, post-election periods reveal a troubling pattern: health centers remain understaffed and unequipped, schools lack textbooks and qualified teachers, and communities still trek kilometers for murky water from contaminated sources. Electricity access is a luxury reserved for few, while crumbling roads and bridges isolate entire villages. These are not mere oversights but systemic failures that betray the region’s trust.
The people of West Nile have long been sold a dream. A dream of roads that connect, clinics that heal, schools that empower, and lights that illuminate. A dream enshrined in your manifesto, echoed in your rallies, and stamped with the face of President Museveni. Yet today, these dreams lie shattered—crushed under the weight of empty pledges and a legacy of betrayal. This letter is not merely a complaint; it is a reckoning.
For over three decades, West Nile has cashed its loyalty into the NRM’s political vault, only to receive worthless paper in return. Every election cycle, you arrive with fanfare, pledges to transform the region and prioritize our needs. But when the last ballot is counted, you vanish—leaving behind health centrea without drugs, schools without roofs, potholes on our roads and villages swallowed by darkness.
In West Nile, mothers still bury children felled by treatable diseases like malaria because the nearest facility or hospital is a myth on a signboard pointing to a unit without drugs. In Districts of Maracha, Arua and Terego, pupils still study under trees while billions are squandered on luxury vehicles for Kampala’s bureaucrats. As result, only 10% make it to P.7 after enrollment. Part of the 22,000 classrooms not built are in West Nile. Our parishes are among more than 1600 without primary schools.
As you celebrate this occasion, remember, the Nebbi-Arua highway remains a death trap of potholes, yet your party praises itself for connecting Uganda. The Nebbi-Goli road, critical for trade, remains unpaved and impassable during rains, stifling economic growth. The region's aspirations for industrial parks in Pakwach, Koboko, etc remain on paper while Government blueprints and speeches tout “universal access” to healthcare, education, and infrastructure without resource envelope. In Madi-Okollo, Land Lords of Ajai dream of being compensated as Kony war claimants ponder unattended to. In Madi subregion, rampant deforestation in Zika and unregulated mining in Zombo degrade land, threatening livelihoods and biodiversity while officials who pocket bribes look away. This is not development. This is organized structural neglect.
For a region held hostage, you speak of “Vision 2040” and “prosperity for all,” but West Nile knows these words are ink on a page, not action on the ground. The neglect in current National Development Plan IV speak to these realities. When will you admit that your party treats this region as a vote plantation—cultivated during elections, abandoned thereafter?
Where are the jobs promised to the youth, now loitering in despair on streets of Arua while others risk it across borders in Sudan and DRC? Where is the electricity pledged to power agro-processing factories, while women grind cassava by hand in our villagrs? Where is the clean water sworn to flow “within five years” in 2016, while children still drink from mud puddles with cows as Arua city residents wait for long hours on lines without water? We're now among the 19 million Ugandans without access to clean water.
Mr. SG, if you pay keen attention, you will see hypocrisy of selective development written on the faces of our ghetto youth and women who will turnup to welcome you. While the face of youth and women in many parts of Uganda glitter with startup kits, skills, seed capital and electricity, West Nile’s villages are relics of a forgotten era. How can a party that claims to love Uganda ignore the cries of an entire region? How can you celebrate peace and stability while presiding over a silent war— poverty, disease, joblessness and hopelessness?
While NRM’s token projects—a borehole here, a classroom there—are sold as development, they're a cynical theater. These half-hearted gestures are not development; they are crumbs tossed to pacify the hungry.
As you celebrate 25 years of the region's effort for Museveni, take note that this time there will be no more excuses and no more lies. The people of West Nile are not fools. They've seen enough of the opulence of your leaders’ convoys speeding past their collapsing roads. They've heard the arrogance in the dismissals: “Change takes time.” Thirty-eight years is not time—it is a lifetime. A lifetime of stolen potential.
The people of West Nile do not seek handouts but accountability. They deserve: transparent investment in health, education, and infrastructure, with timelines and budgets publicly shared. They crave for environmental safeguards to halt degradation and promote sustainable livelihoods. They yearn for equitable resource allocation to bridge the glaring gap between the region and others. They deserve appointments in key Government jobs after hardwork. The NRM must move beyond rhetoric and demonstrate that loyalty to the party translates into dignity for all. Empty promises can no longer suffice. The time for action is now.
It's rather unfortunate the NRM’s engagement often peaks during elections, with pledges to “prioritize” the region. Yet once votes are cast, urgency fades. Projects like the rural power extension and road tarmac to areas like Terego stall indefinitely, while boreholes drilled ceremoniously dry up within months. This cyclical abandonment has bred disillusionment, as communities rightly ask: Are we merely a voting machine, not citizens deserving dignity?
May you use this opportunity to do public audit of all NRM projects in West Nile since 2010, with outcomes published and translated in local languages. It's my prayer that this celebration translates into immediate rehabilitation and budgetary commitments for region.
With the clock is ticking, the NRM has a choice: honor the blood, sweat, and votes of West Nile, or forever be remembered as the party that robbed a generation of its future. We will no longer accept speeches. We will no longer applaud lies. The youth are watching. History is watching. Act now—or be condemned by the very loyalty you exploited.
Yours in relentless pursuit of justice & development for West Nile.
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