Journalism, as taught and practiced, has a simple test: “Print what someone else does not want printed. Everything else is public relations.” By that standard, a newsroom exists to shine light on the powerful and defend democracy.
Uganda’s recent history makes that test urgent. Who will guard the light switch in the newsroom, so democracy can endure? In her 2019 book, Talkative Polity, Dr Florence Brisset-Foucault documented 'ebimeeza'; open, weekend debates that, in the early 2000s, let ordinary Ugandans voice political and social views live on private radios, like Simba, CBS and Radio One.
This particular epoch was thorny. But after the 2009 Buganda skirmishes, the government banned ebimeeza. Those ordinary voices were left only for news bulletins as vox-pops, before a wider online space emerged. But the assault on Daily Monitor and the shutdown of NTV Uganda on June 28, 2026, added a new layer to this pattern. That if common voices were once sieved at the newsroom censor table, the state is now coming for the same tables; and for the editors and producers tasked with managing public discourse.
In 2009, CBS FM, among others, was hit hard and returned in a more cautious form in 2010. Dr Brisset-Foucault captured in detail a short-lived space for public expression, before editors and talk show producers became the main gatekeepers of what could be said, and how, as public views. These were days before twitter/X spaces. The times when call-in participants could influence discussions and before participatory journalism online, became inevitable.
When Gen Muhoozi posted on X that he does “not believe in a free press” (the post has since been deleted) and that the outlets would not reopen without his permission. It was one of the most direct state interventions against an independent media house in recent years; a literal and symbolic seizure of the newsroom’s “light switch.”
Nation Media Group, the East Africa’s most enduring media group, has carried the kind of journalism that fits the old definition: printing what power prefers kept in the dark. Who then, can guard the switch in the newsroom?
When state operatives storm the newsroom, to stop journalism and its corresponding operations, the burden becomes heavier. The headlines have focus on closed outlets, but the impact is industry-wide. Journalism schools cite a “vibrant” Ugandan media in dissertations, But what will students, interns and aspiring reporters make of the business they hope to join, considering the prevailing circumstances?
The sector is already under strain: falling mainstream revenues, repeated restructuring, high turnover, low pay, and a heavy mental toll. Under those conditions, protecting the light for fact-based, frontline reporting is irretrievably unbearable. Yet the risks are real; arrest, assault, or shutdown. If no one guards the newsroom switch, darkness does not arrive as a metaphor. It arrives as empty airtime, silenced debates, and unprinted stories.
Uganda has tested both extremes: ebimeeza opened space for civic engagement, but was shut down at the height of a political standoff between the Mengo establishment and a wary Entebbe government. The June 28 raid on Nation Media Group, in contrast, has deep political roots, but its consequences extend beyond Namuwongo or the Serena Conference Centre.
The question now is who will keep the light on. Without journalists who can report safely, editors who can decide freely, and a public that insists on independent scrutiny, the switch will rest in unaccountable hands, and democracy does not endure in darkness.