By Melvin Moses Kiyimba
The Digital Battlefield
I have been thinking a lot about the role of digital media in politics, especially in Africa. The spread of smartphones has changed everything. Social media is not just a communication tool.
It is a battlefield where narratives are fought and won, where governments rise and fall, and where people think they have more power than they actually do.
Take TikTok for example. It has done more for the Palestinian cause than most governments ever could. It has exposed war crimes in real time, countered biased mainstream narratives, and mobilised global protests.
The same happened with Ukraine and Georgia. Social media became the frontline of the struggle. But the real question is why digital activism works so well for some and not for others.
Look at Africa. Nigeria’s EndSARS movement was massive online yet it never reached the same level of global momentum. The Reject Finance Bill protests in Kenya saw young people using X, formerly Twitter, and TikTok to mobilize.
Yet during the peak of the protests, there were allegations that Safaricom was slowing down internet speeds right when activists needed social media the most.
And then there is Uganda. Bobi Wine built his entire political identity through social media, becoming a symbol of digital resistance.
But every time elections roll around, the same platforms that gave him a voice seem to work against him. Internet shutdowns happen. Opposition accounts disappear. State backed propaganda floods the space.
The recent Kawempe North by election was no different.
Opposition candidates relied on social media to counter government narratives, only to face suppression, misinformation, and strategic silencing.
But here is what is different now. Citizen journalism and mobile journalism have made it harder for those in power to control the story completely.
With just a smartphone, ordinary people have become frontline reporters, capturing police brutality, election fraud, and government failures in ways traditional media either will not or cannot.
In Uganda, this has been a game changer. Protesters live streaming arrests, boda boda riders exposing corruption, communities documenting their struggles when mainstream media remains silent.
The thing about digital spaces is they give you just enough freedom to feel like you are making a difference while keeping real power in the hands of those who own the platforms, the servers,
and the data. It is a false independence, a carefully designed illusion. And in that illusion, real power remains where it has always been.
The Hidden Hand of Capitalism
There is a comforting story we tell ourselves. Social media is the great equalizer. That if we just tweet enough, post enough, or go live at the right moment, we can change the world.
But that story falls apart when you look at who really controls the flow of information.
Cambridge Analytica proved this. The company harvested data from millions of Facebook users, built psychological profiles, and then fed people targeted propaganda.
In Kenya’s elections, it was a tool for voter suppression. In Nigeria, it manipulated public sentiment. The same platforms that were supposed to empower people were being used to control them without their knowledge.
And it has not stopped.
Elon Musk’s Starlink was supposed to provide a digital lifeline in conflict zones. But when Sudan plunged into civil war, access to Starlink was restricted. Musk allegedly made that decision after talks with United States officials.
One man, one decision, and an entire nation’s access to the internet was cut off. Digital independence is an illusion.
Even TikTok, the very platform where Palestinian voices found a global audience, showed us how fragile digital activism really is. African Stream, a media platform dedicated to African perspectives, was taken down from TikTok.
No explanation. No accountability. Just gone. A reminder that a platform can decide what stays and what disappears.
And then there is X.
When Musk bought Twitter, he did not just want a social media company. He wanted a propaganda machine. Suddenly, far right voices were reinstated, misinformation spread unchecked, and Trump’s reelection chances started looking better.
Coincidence? Not really.
Trump’s presidency was a massive financial win for Musk. His companies, Tesla, SpaceX, and Starlink, secured billions in government contracts and grants. Meanwhile, the United States ramped up efforts to block cheaper, better Chinese electric cars from entering the market.
Because if they did, Tesla would struggle to compete.
And this is the problem. Digital activism is only as effective as the infrastructure that supports it. When that infrastructure is built on capitalism, it will always serve power first.
Misdirection and the Fight for Narrative Control
Here is the part that really gets to me. You cannot escape Ukraine on your feed. You know the flags, the slogans, the outrage. But what about Mozambique? The Democratic Republic of Congo? Sudan?
These conflicts exist in digital darkness.
And it is not because people do not care. It is because the algorithm does not care. The same system that amplifies content about Ukraine ensures that African conflicts stay buried unless you actively seek them out.
That is how digital misdirection works. It does not just tell you what to care about. It decides what you never even see.
The Kawempe North by election played out in a similar way.
People relied on social media for updates, but what they saw was carefully curated. Opposition voices were drowned out by bot accounts. Fake news spread faster than actual results.
While everyone thought they were participating in an open digital conversation, the truth is that conversation had already been shaped before it even began.
But here is the bright side. Citizen journalism is the one thing they cannot completely control.
The protests in Kenya were not just documented by media houses but by everyday people who turned their phones into newsrooms.
Uganda’s electoral violations were caught on camera by boda boda riders, market vendors, and university students. Digital infrastructure may be owned by corporations, but the content, our stories, still belongs to us.
A Call for Digital Intentionality and True Political Change
I absolutely acknowledge the power of digital spaces. They have changed the world. They have exposed corruption, mobilized protests, and given voices to the unheard.
We cannot live without digital media.
As much as these challenges are real, we have to do our best to use the tools around us to build a better future for our country.
The events I have highlighted, Kawempe North, Kenya’s Reject Finance Bill protests, African Stream’s takedown, Starlink in Sudan, Cambridge Analytica in Africa, and Musk’s transformation of X, are all connected.
They all show how digital platforms can be both tools for liberation and weapons of control. They remind us that power is not just in governments anymore.
It is in algorithms, servers, and boardrooms we will never have access too.
We often joke about making enough money to leave Uganda, but the truth is we will never have another home. This is it.
So we have two choices.
We can continue the cycle of frustration and escape fantasies, or we can change the way our country functions.
One harsh but necessary suggestion is to make public office so economically undesirable that only those who truly believe in the dream of a better Uganda would want to hold it.
No excessive salaries. No unchecked privileges. No lucrative deals.
Politics should be a duty, not a business. That way, only the ones willing to sacrifice for the people would step forward.
But none of this happens without awareness.
Verify what we read. Not everything that trends is truth.
Engage with the stories that are hidden. Algorithms will not show them unless we actively seek
them out.
Support alternative platforms. African media needs its own spaces, free from corporate
censorship.
And most importantly, we need to keep filming, keep writing, and keep sharing.
Citizen journalism is the one force that digital capitalism and political power struggle to contain.
Citizen journalism is the one force that digital capitalism and political power struggle to contain.
It is our best chance at accountability.
Our best shot at change.
The Author is Head of Streaming, Next Media