In the 2021 general elections, the National Unity Platform (NUP), under Robert Kyagulanyi, aka Bobi Wine, stunned Uganda’s political establishment with a historic performance, sweeping up 59 parliamentary seats.
The heart of this victory lay in the central region, where the party claimed 41 out of 44 Kampala Capital City Authority (KCCA) council positions—riding on a wave of discontent, youthful energy, and demand for change.
Bashir Kazibwe Mbaziira was among the political rookies lifted by this tide. A former president of the Uganda Journalists Association, Kazibwe clinched the Kawempe South parliamentary seat with 26,855 votes, trouncing the Solomon Mayanja of the ruling National Resistance Movement (NRM), who secured only 6,818 votes.
Then incumbent Mubarak Munyagwa of the Forum for Democratic Change trailed a distant third with a handful of votes topping his 3,000.
However, nearly four years later, Kazibwe’s political star appears to have dimmed - before it has actually shone to begin with.
Momentarily seen as a promising addition to Parliament, his tenure has been marked by a noticeably loud and unnerving absence—from legislative debates, public discourse, and constituency engagement.
He holds membership on the COSASE and ICT committees, but few can point to any standout contribution he's made on either platform.
It is as if Kazibwe has to pinch himself from time to time or ask his wife to slap him hard in the face just to jolt him into the realisation that he is actually the Kawempe South MP.
This conspicuous silence has not gone unnoticed. In this week, NUP’s Deputy President for Buganda, Muwanga Kivumbi, issued a 30-day ultimatum to dormant MPs, including Kazibwe, to explain their absence from party activities.
The move signals a shift within NUP—from revolutionary euphoria to performance-based politics. The demand and scrutiny from within and without is getting rougher.
Was Parliament Too Big for Kazibwe?
The measure of a legislator's performance is certainly not limited to what records go into the Hansard under their names in terms of contribution on the floor or how much they contribute during committees.
One has to recall that Kazibwe took to the floor on November 9, 2021, and presented a petition on the unsatisfactory and unfair service delivery by the telecommunications service providers in the country.
There are many MPs who are more grounded with their constituents than with bytes on the floor of Parliament.
But for Kazibwe, it is difficult to flip the coin.
Kazibwe’s situation prompts a larger conversation: Why do some MPs, especially first-timers, fade into the background after a high-profile electoral win?
For many, like Kazibwe, the transition from activism or civic leadership into the political theatre of Parliament can be overwhelming.
Winning a seat, especially during a populist surge, does not automatically translate into effective leadership.
Parliament is a complex space—governed by rules of procedure, dominated by seasoned debaters, and influenced by behind-the-scenes lobbying.
Without structured mentorship, institutional support, or political guidance, many new MPs find themselves lost in the machinery.
In Kazibwe’s case, critics say the seat may have been too big too soon. While his journalism background gave him media presence, it didn’t necessarily prepare him for the legislative grind—bill analysis, policy advocacy, or constituency mobilisation.
As Parliament demands more than visibility, it’s possible Kazibwe never quite found his footing in either space.
It doesn't get any better than the NUP that he subscribes to has appeared more occupied with running after its jailed members and supporters throughout the times Kazibwe could have done with one or two mentorship seminars.
Remarkably, the leadership of the party in Parliament fell apart when Mathias Mpuuga was accused of pocking unethical service award and saw his time as Leader of the Opposition cut short.
Political life in Uganda can be punishing. Once elected, MPs face conflicting expectations from their party, their constituents, and Parliament.
The pressure to deliver fast results—often with limited resources or support—can paralyze even the most enthusiastic newcomers.
Without a proper support system, some MPs retreat into silence, unable to reconcile the demands of office with the reality on the ground.
Moreover, being part of a young opposition party like NUP, which is still building its internal structures, means that many MPs are left to figure things out on their own.
For the better part, the party has either been running from Drone to dock or in-fighting, leaving every legislator to find own footing in the unforgiving political terrain.
The absence of formal orientation programs for new legislators, weak mentorship frameworks, and internal party politics can all contribute to underperformance.
Do MPs Need Help to Perform?
The answer is yes. If Parliament is to truly function as a house of people’s representatives, then incoming MPs—especially those with no prior political experience—need structured training.
This could include legislative bootcamps, constituency management training, and mental health support to help them handle the weight of expectations.
There’s also a need for parties to set up internal performance-tracking systems—not just to police inactivity but to offer coaching, policy support, and strategic planning.
In mature democracies, party whips play a major role in aligning MPs to party objectives while ensuring they deliver back home.
Uganda’s parties, especially opposition ones, must take note.
As 2026 nears, the question isn’t just whether Kazibwe will defend his seat. It’s whether he has left a legacy worth defending.
Kazibwe is not only silent but deathly silent at that. It is easier to convince Museveni to praise Amin than find a journalist who has spoken to him. This makes it difficult to even know if he is contemplating seeking re-election or dusting his palms and saying, "Phew!"
For now, the silence and absence have defined his term more than action or advocacy. Unless he stages a dramatic turnaround, he risks becoming a cautionary tale—of how revolutionary momentum can propel someone into Parliament, but only consistent delivery can keep them there.
Kazibwe’s story is a lesson for voters too: popularity alone does not make a good leader. As Uganda’s political space matures, the electorate is growing more discerning, demanding accountability, presence, and performance—not just party colours or campaign slogans.
Whether Kazibwe bows out quietly or attempts a comeback, his tenure will likely spark critical reflection within NUP and beyond: How do we prepare leaders for leadership, and how do we keep them on course once they get there?