Every week we shout “the government is corrupt!” and nod in agreement as if we are talking about some mysterious creature that fell from the sky. But have you ever paused and asked who exactly is this government?
It is our brothers and sisters?
It is fathers and mothers?
It is the same people who steal during the day and proudly attend PTA meetings in the evening, paying school fees for their children in the most expensive schools funded by bribes they gave or received?
Let’s be honest: the government is us.
We bribe the police officer to skip a fine, then go to church on Sunday to give a tithe from that “blessing.” We slip money under the table for a job or an exam paper and then post inspirational quotes about integrity. We are a nation that condemns corruption loudly and practices it quietly.
For a long time, I too was a devoted member of this choir of complainers.
I blamed “the system,” the leaders, the politicians, and everyone except the person in my mirror. I thought my responsibility ended with criticism. But with time, I realized I had simply been shaped by my environment. Everyone around me blamed someone else, so I joined in. It felt good. It felt safe. It was convenient.
Then I stumbled upon John F. Kennedy’s timeless challenge: “Ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country.” It hit me hard. Because really, if we all keep asking what others should fix, who exactly is left to fix it?
Winston Churchill added another truth that keeps echoing in my mind: “The price of greatness is responsibility.” And that’s the real issue. Not politics. Not tribes. Not the economy. Responsibility.
Corruption is not a government policy it’s a personal decision. It starts with a whisper: “Just give something small.” Then it becomes a habit, a culture, a national anthem.
I have had police officers stop me on the road. I tell them calmly, “I don’t have money to give.” And guess what they let me go. Because when one person says no, corruption loses its buyer.
Think about it: the people who bribe to get their children into schools they did not qualify for, the ones who pay to skip queues, the ones who falsify results to win contracts these are not ghosts. They are us.
So maybe the question is not “When will the government stop being corrupt?” Maybe the question is “When will I?”
If each of us decided today to stop giving and receiving bribes, to stop lying for convenience, to choose honesty when no one is watching, Uganda would change faster than any manifesto ever promised.
Because truth be told, corruption does not live in offices. It lives in hearts. And the cure is not a policy. It’s a choice. Yours and mine.
Who do you think should be blamed due to increased corruption? Share your thoughts on kasoma80@gmail.com