MUKONO | When justice knocks on the wrong door, who protects those sworn to uphold it?In the heart of Mukono, a tragic encounter between police officers and a UPDF soldier over a domestic violence court order ended in bloodshed, betrayal, and a brutal reminder of Uganda’s deep-rooted struggle with accountability in its armed forces. What began as a lawful mission spiraled into a chilling tale of power, silence, and sacrifice.
A Ugandan police officer was killed and another critically injured while attempting to enforce a court order against a Uganda People’s Defence Force (UPDF) officer, in a case that has reignited public concern over military impunity and the safety of frontline law enforcement officers.
Police Constables Kasirye Ogwanga and Azeris Makanga had been tasked with executing a court order involving UPDF officer Ivan Mulondo, summoned in a domestic violence case filed by his wife. Tensions rose during the court hearing as evidence of Mulondo’s alleged misconduct was presented. He reacted furiously to the court’s decision.
According to Constable Makanga, what followed was a chilling descent into intimidation and violence.
“We started receiving threats almost immediately after the court case,” he recalled. “They warned us to drop it or face serious consequences. Soon after, we were both suspended without explanation. It was clear someone powerful wanted to silence us.”
Stripped of their duties and facing growing threats, the two officers attempted to seek redress. They arranged a confidential meeting with a senior army captain in Mubende, hoping for intervention. But they never made it.
“Two vehicles began following us — one ahead, one behind,” Makanga said. “They blocked us and fired at our tires. Armed men surrounded us. Mulondo stepped out and told us he had been tracking us. They beat us without mercy.”
In the chaos, Ogwanga was shot dead. Makanga, bloodied and battered, survived by pretending to be dead. He later woke up in a hospital, rescued by an unidentified Good Samaritan.
“Kasirye wasn’t just a colleague. He was like a brother,” Makanga said tearfully. “I’ve lost my job, my peace, and my best friend — and the man responsible is still free, protected by his rank and connections.”
This tragedy raises urgent questions:
Who protects the protectors when the violator wears a uniform?
How can justice thrive where power shields the guilty?
As public outrage simmers, the silence from military leadership is deafening. No arrests. No formal charges. No justice.
“I’m still alive,” Makanga said with quiet resolve. “And I’ll keep fighting — for Kasirye, for my family, and for every officer who believes that justice must never bow to power.”
