Uganda Tri-state Community Association

The view from @CNN headquarters as I wait… A little adrenaline, a few nerves - first time going LIVE. About to go #OutFront on @OutFrontCNN to talk about the airplane incident I captured at Newark Liberty. Let’s do this.

...Too Good to wait. Get your Tickets Today! #UTCA

@patrickoyulu @david_galukande @StellaMporaKhan @mtnug Great memories Patrick. Should we expect a banner announcing the @utcaorg convention in July. It could be announcing @itsJoshuaBaraka as the headliner 👌🏾👌🏾👌🏾

...Just saw this UB40 banner. I had it printed at #Skygraphics in Germany with express orders to deliver before July 24, 2008. No ordinary banner. @david_galukande @StellaMporaKhan if you know, you know. @mtnug Delivered it to Kajansi airfield. Nostalgic moments. #Uganda #UB40

...Count Down Begins for the 1st #UTCA organized Uganda Culture and Community Festival in Hasbrouck Heights, #NewJersey . @rmayanja | @patrickoyulu | #UgandaDiaspora ugandadiasporanews.com/countdown-begi…

UGANDA DESERVES SOME 'NECESSARY NOISE' — NOT JAZZING FWAAA! In the early 2000s, I owned a short-chassis Mitsubishi Pajero - 2.8 litre, 4M40 diesel engine. At the time, it felt like power, prestige, and proof that life was moving. Had I known what I know now, I might have paused…or at least asked a better mechanic. One morning, somewhere between Kampala optimism and Kabale ambition, the engine taught me a lesson. Just before Mbarara, at that speed bump opposite the Coca-Cola factory, it knocked - then blew. Not coughed. Not protested. Blew. Long story short, I imported another engine from Japan. The 4M40, as I later learned in the honesty of Ugandan garages, had a reputation. Temperamental. Demanding. Foreign, yes - but it did not fail because it was foreign. It failed because something inside its delicate balance had gone wrong. That is the thing about engines. And, as it turns out, about policy bills. A good engine works because its parts trust each other. Pistons do not accuse spark plugs of foreign influence. The crankshaft does not suspect the fuel of betrayal. Everything plays its role within a calibrated system. Once you begin to doubt the very parts that make motion possible, you do not protect the engine - you destabilize it. That is why the #SovereigntyBill started sounding like my old Pajero before Mbarara. It arrived polished, patriotic, and confident. But soon the knocking began: vague language, wide powers, harsh penalties, and a strange detour into private enterprise, money transfers, church donations, and Ugandans abroad being treated like suspicious spare parts. Uganda has long been admired as a relatively open and progressive economy. So when a bill begins sounding like it wants to move sensitive financial oversight from the Bank of Uganda garage to the Ministry of Internal Affairs workshop, even the mechanic at Wankoko pauses. “Owaaye…Enjini eno efudde. Enjini eno erabika eyonoonese.” And now, timely enough, the 'real mechanic' has spoken. He has asked that the bill returns to its actual engine room: sovereignty of policy decision-making - not meandering into private transfers, not frightening churches, not turning diaspora remittances into intelligence reports. But perhaps that question - “why the kelele?” - came, let me say a little late. Because it is precisely that noise - lawyers like @SarahBireete @miriamatembe raising red flags, @BOU_Official Governor putting in a stellar performance against the bill, Hon. @MwesigwaRukuta1 giving a logical beware type explanation, citizens like @benmwine asking hard questions in the @Parliament_Ug committee, diaspora groups like Uganda Global voices and many others refusing to be mislabeled, experts like @PhillipKarugaba pointing out constitutional cracks — that forced the bonnet open. Sometimes, what sounds like kelele (noise) is the engine saving itself. That day near Mbarara, I learned that when an engine knocks, you do not silence it. You listen. So before this legislative '4M40' blows at the speed bump of constitutional scrutiny, the wise thing is simple: keep listening, remove the bad parts, and rebuild only what is necessary. Sometimes, that ka - necessary noise is well deserved. It shows citizens are listening, engaged, and still invested in the country’s engine. Over to you, Parliamentary Committee. Get it right. #SatireIsNotACrime #OhUganda

It’s one thing to regulate the sharing of money. It’s another to let money regulate identity. Because once you start measuring who belongs using thresholds, you’re no longer defining foreigners - you’re negotiating family.

IS ARSENAL FAN TV IN TOWN TO MEET “FOREIGN AGENTS?" There is something deliciously ironic about #Arsenal Fan TV @AFTVMedia - that loud, unfiltered theatre of football emotion - landing in Uganda at the exact moment the country is wrestling with the meaning of “sovereignty.” One can almost picture @ItsRobbieLyle stepping off a @UG_Airlines flight, mic in hand, asking the nation: “Fam… what are we doing?” Never has the word "Sovereignty" been simultaneously so flagrant, and so prosaic, as it is when attached to the word "Bill". It's the prosaics who truly frustrate me. Those who snootily look down their nose on somebody living their life, albeit with passion -as a Ugandan, in the diaspora, while patting themselves on the back for the blameless mediocrity that is their lives. Because, truth be told, this week has felt like a live AFTV episode - only the stakes are not a Ryan Cherki or Haaland goal at the Etihad Stadium, but a law that dares to define who belongs and who doesn’t. As Counsel @PhillipKarugaba putting up a spirited fight before a committee of @Parliament_Ug , calmly dismantling the #SovereigntyBill piece by piece, one could hear echoes of those post-match rants. Not the chaos, but the clarity that sometimes emerges from passion. His question in a prior forum, and presented in a moment of levity -whether loving @Arsenal makes one a “foreign agent” - was not a joke. It was a mirror. If the @premierleague is foreign, if Robbie and his crew are foreign, then what of the millions of Ugandans who wake up at odd hours, jerseys on, hearts invested? Are they suspect too? You can almost hear the AFTV chorus: “This is shocking, blud.” But here’s the twist. Football, like identity, is not a zero-sum game. Supporting Arsenal does not make one less Ugandan, just as living in the diaspora does not dilute one’s roots. Passion travels. Belonging evolves. And sovereignty -real sovereignty - is confident enough to accommodate both. What this Bill risks doing is what Arsenal fans -especially recently, know too well as they chase for the title: mistaking symptoms for solutions. You don’t fix Saliba, Madueke or frankly, Arteta's problems by blaming the fans in the stands. You fix it at the source. Public submissions have - pretty much, now closed. The cameras may dim. But the decision - like a last-minute VAR check - still hangs in the balance. And if there’s one lesson from AFTV, it’s this: the fans always see it clearly in the end. #Ugandans are speaking, loudly and unmistakably: Kill the bill. Because a bad law, like a bad season, cannot be rescued by excuses. It must be rebuilt from the ground up. #SatireIsNotACrime #Uganda

...In Solidarity

....UTCA standing in Solidarity with all #Ugandans against the #SovereignityBill #Uganda @Parliament_Ug | @utcaorg

...STANDING IN SOLIDARITY - WITH UGANDANS, AGAINST THE #SovereignityBill @Parliament_Ug @UgandaMissionNY @UGEmbassyUS_DC #Uganda

Slice it however you want… We’re still Ugandan. No, the diaspora does not wear Prada. 🍅 #Ondaba #SayNoToTheSovereignityBill

UTCA COMMUNITY SPOTLIGHT. This week in our Issue #002 , UTCA proudly shines a light on one of it's rising stars, Anastasia Bugembe - a young talent whose journey reflects passion, discipline, and the quiet confidence of someone growing into her craft. #UTCASpotlights

@bnamutebi We are So Uganda! #Ondaba

Thank you, my friend @patrickoyulu

NO, THE DIASPORA DOES NOT WEAR PRADA… Uganda please, the Diaspora does not wear Prada! We are not strutting down some Fifth Avenue runway, sunglasses on, accents confused, loyalties for sale. No. The diaspora is that stubborn, beautiful mix of Luganda proverbs, Alur pride, Banyankore Kweterana humor, Teso Kere, and Acholi resilience to name a few - served with a side of airport goodbyes and Sendwave remittances. We are Ugandan. Full stop. No designer label required. Now, let me take you back - because Uganda’s policies have always had a way of arriving like an unexpected thunderstorm in 'Jjera-wood' (read: Najjera). On April 18, 1979, after the fall of Amin, banks were heavily looted. Dimes withdrawal became tricky. Banks reacted and said, “My friend, you can only withdraw 5,000 shillings.” You looked at your own money like it belonged to government. Then Obote II gave us the famous “chit system” -where sugar became rarer than a polite boda boda rider in Kyanja. Suddenly, connections were currency, and omuntu wa wansi was left negotiating life like a man buying Rolex without chapati. But even those…even those did not attempt what this Sovereignty Bill is flirting with: the audacity to look at a Ugandan abroad and whisper, “Foreigner.” Foreigner? Me? The same me who supports my kith and kin in Uganda? The same me whose December ticket alone probably funds that car chasing birds at Entebbe’s runway? The same me whose burial plot is already quietly reserved somewhere in Pakadha between my brother Alfred and Francis grave and that barkcloth Mutuba tree? My friend, what flavored shisha are we smoking? This is where the Prada analogy enters, kubanga we must educate each other small-small. “The Devil Wears Prada” whose sequel launch premiered in New York yesterday, taught us that evil doesn’t always look like a monster in the tunnels at Clock Tower. Sometimes it is well-dressed, well-worded, and dangerously convincing. Policies too can come dressed in fine language -sovereignty, protection, order -yet underneath, they quietly rearrange your rights like furniture in a house you built. Today it is the diaspora. Tomorrow, it is anyone who thinks too loudly. My good friend and @SmackObs @PhillipKarugaba said it best in those spirited Uganda Global Conversations sessions moderated by @SmackObs Timothy Gaburungyi and on another space hosted yesterday by @rkabushenga - rights are not seasonal. They do not expire at Entebbe Airport. The Constitution did not say, “All Ugandans are equal…until you board Emirates.” And let us not pretend this is abstract. The kadama sends 500K home - hardware shops smile, contractors eat, boda bodas fuel up, data bundles are purchased, and life…moves. Mwebereremu. You pull one thread, the whole sweater unravels. This bill, my friends, is that small pebble in your shoe. Ignore it, and soon you are limping. Entertained by it, and one day you are crawling. So no, Uganda - The diaspora does not wear Prada. We are not devils in designer suits. We only wear #Ondaba brands. We are your sons, daughters, investors, critics, lovers, so Ugandan, and loudest ambassadors. And if loving #Uganda loudly is now a problem - then perhaps the problem is not us. Kill the bill in @Parliament_Ug. Before it learns how to wear a suit. #StopTheSovereigntyBill #Ondaba #SovereigntyBill

FRIDAY NIGHTS: WHEN WE OWED YOU NOTHING! There was a time in the 80s, when #Kampala weekends had a clear destination, and they still do - and if your stars aligned, your shoes pointed straight to Chez Joseph on Kimathi Avenue. Opposite @KCCAUG , the place stood like a nightclub and a social sorting hat rolled into one. You didn’t just enter - you qualified. Money helped. Connections helped more. Confidence? That was your wildcard. This was the most popular hangout joint for the youth back then. Inside, the formula was sacred: blue, red, yellow bulbs… a mirror ball spinning like it had secrets… and at the far end, the DJ box - where DJ Telematch (Mukiibi) conducted the night like a high priest of vinyl. When he dropped a track, it was no longer a dance floor -it was a declaration, like he did one night when he dropped 'Jack the Groove' by Raze. But before all that glory and celebration0? Survival. Because not all of us arrived fully funded. Some of us passed by the shadows of the old Ministry of Labour building - near that legendary old abandoned trench - now Workers House, that looked deep enough to swallow your future - where a quiet economist of the night sold K. Yes, Kasese (Waragi). A glass. Maybe a Fanta or a Mini would set you on the path to happiness. Add lime. Suddenly, the world made sense -and more importantly, you had courage capital. Then came “Footsubishi” - our hybrid transport system. Meanwhile, the chosen few rolled in -borrowed or “temporarily reassigned” father’s car - packed like a matatu of ambition. Driver brings the ride. One friend brings the entrance fee. Another negotiates with the kanyama at the gate. Teamwork made the nightlife work. Inside? Ah. You bought one beer at 11pm - and nursed it like an investment portfolio till 1am. Holding that bottle wasn’t thirst. It was status. You danced not because you had much - but because, for those hours, you lacked nothing. Then the morning came, uninvited but inevitable. You walked back up Kimathi Avenue, eyes red, spirit undefeated, past the early church goers, the saints at Christ the King Church. They stared. You stared back. Under your breath: “Why are you looking at me?” Their eyes said “Bambi.” Yours replied -without words - Do I.O.U? Not today. Because Friday night had cleared all debts. At least until next weekend. To #HappyFridays #Uganda Video courtesy: Mad shots

We’re proud to launch the #UTCACommunity Spotlight 🌟 — every Thursday, celebrating the stories, milestones, and moments that define our Tristate community. Today, we shine the light on Dr. Angelo A.S. Kaggwa of @thisisUIC. #Congratulations 👏🏾

THE SOVEREIGNTY BILL SWEEPIN' THE CLOUDS AWAY? On a sunny day, a Ugandan should be allowed small luxuries -tea, memory, perhaps even a quiet hum of Sesame Street’s “Sunny Day, sweepin’ the clouds away…” -without the intrusion of legal uncertainty. Yet increasingly, even the most ordinary acts are beginning to feel less ordinary. And today, that feeling is no longer hypothetical. With the Protection of Sovereignty Bill 2026 now formally tabled before @Parliament_Ug, what was once policy speculation has crossed into legislative reality. The conversation has shifted - from “what if” to “what now.” A Ugandan living abroad, sending school fees home, supporting relatives, or offering commentary on national affairs, may now have to confront a more complex question: at what point does engagement with one’s own country become regulated activity? Because under the proposed Protection of Sovereignty Bill 2026, that boundary appears to be shifting. The bill defines a Ugandan residing outside the country as a “foreigner.” This is not symbolic language; it is a legal position. And once adopted, it reframes how everyday interactions - financial, social, and even expressive - may be interpreted. Support that has long been understood as familial -medical assistance, tuition, rent, food - can, under a stricter regulatory framework, be recast as cross-border financial flows. Categorised. Reportable. Potentially subject to authorisation. The implications are not abstract. When ordinary behaviour is recoded in regulatory terms, it introduces friction. Senders hesitate. Recipients become cautious. What was once instinctive - helping family, contributing to community life, participating in national conversation -becomes conditional. And now that the bill sits within the formal machinery of Parliament, that hesitation is likely to grow - not because the law has changed yet, but because its possibility suddenly feels real. This is where the issue moves beyond legal drafting into lived experience. Uganda’s diaspora contributes roughly 9.3 trillion Uganda shillings annually in remittances, sustaining households, supporting education, and supplementing healthcare. These flows are not peripheral to the economy; they are embedded within it. Any framework that complicates or discourages them, even unintentionally, risks consequences that extend far beyond compliance. The question, therefore, is not whether sovereignty matters. It does. The question is how it is exercised. How does a country safeguard its interests without narrowing the space for its own citizens to participate, contribute, and remain connected? At what point does protection begin to resemble distance? Because if reform results in a climate where support feels suspect, where expression feels measured, and where belonging appears conditional, then the long-term cost may not be captured in policy language - but it will be reflected in behaviour. Fewer risks taken. Fewer voices heard. Fewer hands extended. Because if the outcome of reform is a climate in which support feels suspect and engagement feels risky, then the cost may not be immediately visible - but it will be felt. If this was crafted to catch a few, it risks casting a shadow over all of us. Call it, the Hydra Effect! And no - this won’t be one of those “Sunny days, sweepin’ the clouds away…” moments. Even Big Bird would pause and wonder what exactly is going on. Because it is, frankly, embarrassing - that those entrusted with steering a nation would table such measures for such small battles, as though tomorrow will never come. It does - and memory of our actions remains remarkably permanent. We can do better. Video: @nbstv #SovereigntyBillUg | @pwatchug