A conversation between two generations at the edge of Uganda’s political transition. The Yellow Hour It’s a Kampala evening in late October 2025. The sun melts into Nakasero ’s skyline, painting the city in a strange blend of gold and uncertainty. From the veranda of a crowded café near Fairway Hotel , Andrew Muwende sits opposite a young man—hoodie, earpods, restless energy. Youth: “Uncle Muwende, be honest—this thing of people crossing to NRM every week, isn’t it just political survival? I mean, over 1,000 NUP guys at Kololo ? That’s not unity; that’s desperation.” Muwende (chuckling): “Ah, my son, politics is never about desperation—it’s about timing. What you’re calling defection, the strategists in State House call realignment. When 1,000 NUP faithful walk into Kololo and Museveni hugs them like prodigal sons, that’s not chaos—it’s choreography. It’s a message to the country: unity is the new currency.” He sips his espresso slowly, eyes glinting. “Look at Nebbi —50...
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