In a detailed appeal to President Museveni dated Sunday, March 22, 2026, Muganga urged the government to implement a nationwide “One Laptop Per Child” (OLPC) programme to equip all school‑going children with personal digital devices.
He argues that such a bold investment could unlock Uganda’s demographic dividend and accelerate the country’s journey to a USD 500 billion economy under the government’s Ten‑Fold Growth Strategy.
Muganga’s vision is rooted in hard statistics: with more than 76 percent of Ugandans under the age of 34, he says the nation’s youthful population is “not a challenge; it is our greatest strategic asset.”
By providing every learner with a laptop or tablet, powered by solar energy and connected via satellite internet, Muganga believes Uganda can leapfrog economic bottlenecks and rapidly build digital skills needed for the jobs of tomorrow.
The proposal estimates an initial investment of about $1.2 billion (Shs4.4 trillion), a sum Muganga says will be offset by long‑term productivity gains, savings on textbooks, and widened access to learning materials.
But as the online sparks fly, a central question looms: Is Uganda ready for such a transformative leap?
Across East Africa, ambitious digital education programmes have been launched with large fanfare, only for implementation challenges to temper expectations.
In Rwanda, the government launched a One Laptop Per Child policy in 2008 aimed at placing laptops into primary school classrooms as part of a broader push to integrate information and communications technology (ICT) into education.
At its peak, the project reportedly reached hundreds of schools with more than 250,000 devices deployed, though this represented only about 10 percent of primary students.
Over time, limitations became evident: many schools struggled with basic infrastructure such as electricity, reliable internet connections, teacher training and curriculum integration; charging and maintaining devices proved difficult, and laptops were often kept locked away rather than used routinely for learning.
These complexities contributed to a shift in national policy from individual laptops to broader “Smart Classroom” initiatives emphasizing integrated digital systems rather than one‑to‑one devices.
Studies from Rwanda have shown that while laptops can improve digital literacy and student engagement, the full promise of OLPC has been undermined by deeper structural challenges.
Teachers often lacked training on how to integrate computers into lessons, and many schools lacked consistent power or internet.
In some rural areas, the logistical burden of charging and maintaining devices meant that laptops remained unused or underutilized for long stretches of time.
Kenya’s experience offers another cautionary tale. In 2013, the government pledged to distribute laptops to every new primary school pupil, only to pivot to lower‑cost tablets when the practical and financial realities became clear.
A national rollout followed under that country’s Digital Literacy Programme (DLP), focusing on early grades and provision of tablets preloaded with curriculum content.
Some schools reported increased enthusiasm among pupils and engagement with digital content, but significant challenges persisted.
Many students and teachers encountered unreliable electricity and internet, there were concerns about infrastructure and maintenance, and training for teachers was uneven, leaving many educators underprepared to make effective use of the devices.
After several years the original project faded from budget allocations, with budget analysts noting a zero allocation in later government spending plans — a quiet end to an initiative that once made headlines.
Across both countries, a common theme emerges: distributing devices is only one piece of a much larger puzzle involving infrastructure, teacher readiness, content integration, and long‑term sustainability.
In Rwanda in particular, when the company contracted to deliver the gadgets ran into difficulties, the government hit a wall. It has since moved to have labs in all public schools and ensure every teacher has a laptop.
Reactions to Muganga’s proposal have been vigorous and wide‑ranging. Taking to his X (formerly Twitter) account, former Makerere University Vice Chancellor Professor Venansius Baryamureeba dismissed the idea as unrealistic.
“Outdated ... We just need good teachers and laboratories in all schools. Ugandans have problems charging phones and so how will they charge laptops or keep them safely in rural areas? More than 50% would be stolen in the first year. Do research and propose practical solutions,” wrote Baryamureeba, who holds a PhD in computer science.
Baryamureeba, a former presidential candidate, also drew parallels with past ICT projects that saw equipment bought and left unused, urging proponents to “research and propose practical solutions" and Parliament's iPads.
"You have a failed case study among the elites. Ministry of ICT under Dr Ham Mulira bought video conferencing facilities and installed them in government ministries. Were they used?" he queried.
"Parliament buys iPads for members of parliament. Find out how many effectively uses them. Digital literacy in Uganda is very low. We should never import ideas that can never work in the Ugandan local situation."
One of the most bizarre incidents of MPs use of the iPads was laid bare to the public when a member was pictured using it to play soltaire during a parliamentary session.
But in a spirited response, Muganga encouraged his critic to engage deeply with the full proposal. He pointed out that modern solar‑powered devices can mitigate electricity constraints and argued that concerns about theft should not “prevent the country from planning for transformative solutions.”
"While concerns about theft are understandable, I do not believe they should prevent the country from planning for transformative solutions that can widen access to meaningful education and transformative technology," he said.
Principal Press Secretary to the Speaker of Parliament, Joseph Sabiti, stressed the need for rigorous academic critique and structured debate, suggesting that organisations like Victoria University host forums for in‑depth analysis rather than fragmented online commentary.
“Regrettably, some individuals, despite their qualifications, have been reduced to street‑level commentators and are unlikely to contribute meaningfully to such a constructive debate,” he wrote.
Public Policy Commentator and Rukiga County Member of Parliament Elect Patrick Kiconco Katabaazi acknowledged that Muganga’s proposal is bold and appealing but warned that timing and planning matter.
Citing Kenya’s 1.2 million tablet rollout that ultimately faltered due to lack of teacher training and maintenance systems, he argued that large‑scale digital education projects are complex and require meticulous feasibility studies, realistic cost estimates and pilot programmes before any national rollout.
Katabaazi suggested that the often‑quoted $1.2 billion is likely an understatement of the true costs involved.
Others have pointed out that even Rwanda’s celebrated OLPC model did not fully succeed, noting that hardware replacement, servicing costs and structural constraints can make such initiatives fiscally burdensome.
The broader conversation sparked by Muganga’s letter highlights two competing narratives about the future of education and economic development in Uganda.
On one hand, digital technology clearly offers opportunities to expand access to information, bridge educational gaps and prepare a young workforce for a digital global economy.
On the other, hard lessons from neighbouring countries illustrate that good intentions and lofty targets are insufficient without addressing core infrastructure, training, curriculum and sustainability issues.
As policymakers, educators, parents and students weigh in on the merit of equipping every child with a laptop or tablet, the central question remains clear: Can Uganda afford not only to distribute devices, but to build the ecosystems that make them effective tools for learning?
Only robust analysis, inclusive debate and careful planning — rooted in evidence from past regional experiences — will determine whether the vision of a laptop in every hand becomes a stepping‑stone toward transformation or another well‑meaning policy left unplugged from reality.