A rollercoaster political pendulum swing in the last few days has seen the fall of Anita Among, the Speaker of the 11th Parliament who was sure to contest for a second term, to endorsement of Jacob Oboth-Oboth as her replacement while Thomas Tayebwa appeared to have lost his position only to bounce right back into it.
Yet unlike in the past two decades were deputies have risen to assume the Speakership, this time round Tayebwa, the ruling National Resistance Movement and its sprouting wing of Patriotic League of Uganda seem to suggest, will deputise Oboth.
A queue has been jumped?
When Amama Mbabazi accused Dr Kizza Besigye of “jumping the queue” ahead of the 2001 presidential election, the remark sounded like a passing political jab. In reality, it became one of the defining metaphors of modern NRM politics.
More than two decades later, the idea of a political “queue” still shapes conversations about succession, loyalty, appointments and ambition inside Uganda’s ruling establishment.
The phrase captured an unwritten belief within the National Resistance Movement: that power should move according to revolutionary seniority, patience, loyalty and service to President Yoweri Museveni. In this imagined line were bush war veterans, long-serving cadres and trusted insiders who were seen as gradually positioning themselves for higher office.
But the history of the NRM has repeatedly shown that the queue is neither fixed nor institutional. It exists only so long as it serves the interests of the centre of power. When circumstances change, the queue bends, stretches or disappears entirely.
That contradiction now sits at the heart of the latest parliamentary realignments ahead of the 12th Parliament, where the fall of Speaker Anita Among and the emergence of Jacob Oboth-Oboth have revived old questions about who truly advances in Uganda’s political system, and why.
The original “queue jumping” controversy emerged during the bitter fallout between Museveni and Besigye at the turn of the century. Besigye, once Museveni’s doctor and a trusted insider during the bush war, broke ranks and challenged him in the 2001 election.
To many within the Movement, this was not merely opposition politics. It was treated as an act of betrayal against an unwritten hierarchy.
Mbabazi’s criticism carried multiple messages at once. Publicly, it defended Museveni and portrayed Besigye as impatient. Quietly, it also revealed Mbabazi’s own ambitions. By arguing that Besigye had skipped more senior figures, Mbabazi was indirectly placing himself among those who supposedly deserved consideration first.
The irony, of course, is that Mbabazi would later become trapped by the same logic he once defended. After years as one of Museveni’s most powerful allies, serving as Security Minister, Attorney General, Prime Minister and NRM secretary general, Mbabazi increasingly appeared to many observers as a possible successor.
Yet when his ambitions became too visible, he too was isolated, stripped of influence and eventually pushed into a failed presidential challenge in 2016.
The lesson from both Besigye and Mbabazi was unmistakable. The queue existed, but only as long as it did not threaten the authority of the person managing it.
That is the deeper political function of the queue within the NRM. It stabilises elite expectations without ever creating a binding succession mechanism. It gives ambitious cadres hope that loyalty and patience will eventually be rewarded, while ensuring that no individual can confidently organise around entitlement to power.
This balancing act has allowed Museveni to maintain dominance over competing factions for decades. Potential successors are rarely eliminated immediately.
Instead, they are managed. Some are promoted just enough to remain loyal. Others are rotated between offices. A few are quietly sidelined. The uncertainty itself becomes a tool of control.
The pattern is visible across the wider history of the Movement. Eriya Kategaya, Bidandi Ssali, James Wapakhabulo, Gilbert Bukenya, Rebecca Kadaga and Mbabazi all occupied periods where they appeared politically ascendant, only for the centre of gravity to shift again.
In Uganda’s ruling system, proximity to power matters more than proximity to succession.
The parliament 'queue'
Parliament eventually developed its own version of this queue culture, particularly around the Speakership.
Over time, an informal ladder appeared to emerge. Edward Ssekandi moved from Deputy Speaker to Speaker and later Vice President. Rebecca Kadaga rose from deputy to Speaker.
Jacob Oulanyah spent years as deputy before finally becoming Speaker in 2021. Anita Among then succeeded him after serving as deputy.
This gradual progression created the impression of institutional apprenticeship. Deputies appeared to be preparing for eventual elevation, usually after demonstrating loyalty to both Parliament and the executive.
The arrangement also aligned with broader political optics. Uganda’s leadership frequently projected gender balancing as part of the NRM’s image, particularly through alternating male and female parliamentary leadership combinations.
Yet the events leading into the 12th Parliament Speakership election on May 25 have exposed how fragile these conventions really are.
Among’s political troubles dramatically altered the landscape. Investigations into alleged illicit enrichment, corruption and abuse of office transformed her from one of the most powerful figures in government into a liability under intense scrutiny.
The raids on her properties and the seizure of high-value assets created a political atmosphere in which continuity became increasingly difficult to defend.
Under ordinary circumstances, the expectation may have been for Anita Among and Thomas Tayebwa to continue in leadership, preserving the established order and the deputy succession pattern.
And now with Among out, the expectation would be for Thomas Tayebwa to be endorsed for Speaker while another deputy speaker is selected.
Instead, the centre moved quickly toward Jacob Oboth-Oboth. General Muhoozi had initially declared that "women hold half the sky" so the deputy to Oboth-Oboth would be a woman, leading many into swift conclusion that Kitgum Woman MP Lilian Aber would be the deputy speaker.
But on Tuesday, Muhoozi threw more spanners into the works by declaring that the leadership had decided that Tayebwa continues as deputy speaker alongside Oboth.
Oboth's emergence is politically significant for several reasons.
First, it reinforces the idea that loyalty matters more than visibility or popularity. Oboth-Oboth has long been viewed as a disciplined insider trusted by the establishment. His role during controversial moments, including support for constitutional amendments such as the age limit removal, strengthened his reputation as a dependable cadre.
Reports that he stepped aside in earlier internal calculations at Museveni’s request only deepen the perception that his current elevation is a reward for patience and obedience.
Second, the shift highlights the growing influence of newer power centres around Gen Muhoozi Kainerugaba and the Patriotic League of Uganda. Their rapid alignment behind Oboth-Oboth demonstrated how succession politics inside the NRM is increasingly shaped by networks beyond the traditional party structures.
Third, the apparent return to a male-male Speaker-Deputy arrangement signals that symbolic traditions remain secondary to political calculation. For years, gender balancing within parliamentary leadership carried institutional and public relations value.
But moments of political risk often reveal which principles are negotiable and which are not. In this case, stability, loyalty and executive alignment appear to have outweighed representational optics.
The deeper issue underneath all these shifts is the role Parliament plays within Uganda’s political structure. In theory, Parliament is an independent arm of government tasked with legislation and oversight. In practice, the executive has consistently worked to ensure that Parliament does not become a rival centre of authority.
This explains why independent-minded parliamentary figures often encounter turbulence. Kadaga’s relationship with sections of the executive became strained when she occasionally projected institutional independence. Among herself rose partly because she was initially seen as more aligned with the centre than her predecessor. The choice of parliamentary leadership is therefore rarely just about legislative competence. It is about political reliability.
The queue survives because it remains useful. It offers order in a system that might otherwise appear unpredictable. It encourages patience among elites competing for limited opportunities. It creates the belief that loyalty will eventually bring reward.
But every major disruption reveals the same truth: the queue is ultimately subordinate to personalised power.
Robinah Nabbanja’s rise to Prime Minister in 2021 reflected this dynamic clearly. She bypassed numerous more senior and nationally prominent figures. Her elevation was interpreted less as the triumph of institutional seniority and more as the reward for loyalty, grassroots mobilisation and political non-threateningness. Similar patterns have appeared with figures such as Evelyn Anite and others whose rapid advancement depended more on strategic usefulness than on conventional hierarchy.
This is why the queue remains both real and unreal at the same time. Politicians behave as though it exists because access to power often depends on displaying patience and loyalty. Yet they also know that the line can be rearranged overnight.
In many ways, that uncertainty is the system.
The current parliamentary transition therefore tells a much larger story than simply who becomes Speaker or Deputy Speaker. It reflects the NRM’s long-standing method of governing internal ambition. Expectations are managed, alliances are reshaped, and political careers are calibrated according to the needs of the moment.
For all the talk of succession, seniority and revolutionary entitlement, the central lesson of the NRM queue has remained remarkably consistent since Mbabazi rebuked Besigye more than two decades ago.
The queue only matters because the person at the front controls it.