By K Twaha
The Case for Erias Lukwago Vs Hamis Kiggundu: A Stand Against Oligarchy, Plutocracy, and Kleptocracy When flashy designs for Kampala’s “development” were revealed, showing a city of glass towers and futuristic malls, many— including me—were captivated. The vision, seemingly plucked from Dubai, looked like a promise of progress. The public cheered, and influencers rushed to praise the young billionaire, Ham, as a savior. To the untrained eye, this seemed like a bright future for the city.
Yet, a few critical voices rose, born from a deep understanding of history. They warned that this was not progress but a form of “capture.” Initially, I was skeptical. But on Wednesday, August 21, 2025, I decided to do some research of my own. I went to the libraries of Entebbe and what I discovered was more unsettling than any of Ham’s glossy models.
This new generation, addicted to social media and quick entertainment, often lacks the patience for deep research. The government and tycoons like Ham exploit this weakness. They showcase their grand plans on social media, and people applaud without asking the tough questions: Whose land is this? Whose heritage is being erased? Whose public spaces are being sold? And so, Lukwago, a solitary voice of reason, is branded as “anti-development.”
History is full of cautionary tales. In the 1990s, Russia was taken over by oligarchs who seized control of oil, gas, and industry, leaving a handful of billionaires wealthier than millions of citizens combined. In Nigeria, plutocrats divided up oil blocks like birthday cake while the masses lived in poverty. Zaire under Mobutu became a kleptocracy, where the president was richer than his country, building palaces while his people starved. In South Africa, the Gupta family’s influence on President Zuma led to “state capture,” where ministers were chosen in a private mansion and a democratic state was treated like a personal ATM.
The Gupta brothers, who started as simple businessmen, grew their power by befriending Zuma, employing his son, and financing his family. They eventually gained such control that government ministers were summoned to their compound and offered positions in exchange for loyalty. State-owned companies were bled dry with fraudulent contracts, and the Guptas even used a military airbase for a private wedding, showing a blatant disregard for South Africa’s sovereignty. The public outrage that followed forced Zuma to resign, but not before one family had bent an entire nation to its will.
Now, look at Kampala. The parallels are chilling. Replace the Guptas with Ham. Replace Zuma with a system all too eager to please its tycoons. Ham operates without needing elections, city council debates, or parliamentary oversight. He is summoned directly by the head of state to sign deals in secret, while the public only learns about them after they are finalized.
Ham isn’t an anomaly; he’s part of an established system of oligarchy, rooted in groups like the Kwagalana Group, Kampala’s billionaire club. At the head of this group is Sudhir Ruparelia, who controls a massive portion of Uganda’s private wealth through a sprawling empire of banks, hotels, and real estate. These tycoons fund political campaigns, and in return, policy is shaped to serve their interests. This is not just influence; it is the very structure of plutocracy.
In this context , Lukwag o’s resistance is a beacon of clarity. His “no” to Ham’s plans is not an opposition to skyscrapers, but a stand against the privatization of public spaces by a few wealthy individuals. He understands that genuine development preserves a city’s soul, not by paving over gardens and wetlands, but by protecting them for future generations.
While some may see him as “anti-progress,” every thoughtful citizen knows he is the last line of defense. If Russia and South Africa could be captured by oligarchs and kleptocrats, why would Kampala be any different?
Support Lukwago not out of a dislike for Ham or development, but out of love for Kampala. The Kwagalana Group and their political allies will not stop until every last inch of the city is privatized. Lukwago’s “no” may seem stubborn today, but history will prove it was prophetic.
When our children ask us what we did when oligarchs threatened to seize the city, will we tell them we were too busy on TikTok, or that we stood with the man who declared: Kampala is not for sale?
Internet photo: Hamis Kiggundu and Erias Lukwago
