Clobber First, Identify Never - A Masterclass in MK Security Operandi
Ugandans should breathe a sigh of relief. Finally, the age-old headache of identifying law enforcement officers is being put to rest, thanks to the wisdom of our esteemed Chief of Defence Forces, Gen Muhoozi Kainerugaba. His recent declaration that "there is no requirement for security personnel to be identified" is nothing short of revolutionary.
Who needs accountability when you can have the thrilling uncertainty of being apprehended by an anonymous, hooded figure?
In a country where citizens are constantly burdened with unnecessary details — such as where Sheila Gashumba gets her money and the colour of Zambali's vest — this bold move is a breath of fresh air. Why should the public worry about distinguishing between law enforcement and criminals when both operate in the same fashion?
Gen MK is very right. Imagine you are there being clobbered pwah-pwah-pwah and instead of saving your already miserable life, you surrender it under the alter of trying to crane your eyes to catch the identity of your tormentor, then we shall see Njanjura and Agather and Ingrid protesting about you being killed.
Yes, that is precisely what Gen MK is saying. In case you are wondering why he is so brilliant, he keeps saying he is a Muchwezi.
Needless to remind you, a security officer in full-face coverage, dressed like an extra from a dystopian sci-fi movie, is just what Uganda needs to instill confidence in public order.
Chaps like Minister David Muhoozi have raised an absurd concern: that law enforcement officers should be clearly identifiable while performing their duties. The Minister naively believes that enforcing the law should be done "according to the dictates of enforcement." How archaic!
The modern approach, endorsed by Gen MK, suggests that law enforcement is far more effective when officers remain an enigma, blending seamlessly into the shadows and inflicting maximum damage. After all, why should the public expect to know who is responsible for upholding the law? That would only lead to pesky things like accountability and human rights.
The advantages of this innovative approach cannot be overstated. Picture a scenario where a protest erupts — say, over something trivial like election results or Besigye's emaciated appearance. Wouldn’t it be far more exciting for protesters to be met by nameless, faceless figures whose allegiance and intentions remain a mystery?
The added suspense would certainly keep demonstrators on their toes, ensuring they remain alert at all times. Nothing quite says "national security" like a group of hooded men grabbing people off the streets without a word.
Journalists, too, will benefit immensely from this new strategy. Currently, reporters waste valuable time trying to determine which branch of security forces is brutalising them. Or which sujui Humwibine and whatever DPC is in command. Now, they can simply focus on the experience itself—dodging blows and shielding cameras from unidentified fists. It’s efficiency at its finest!
There’s also the added bonus of allowing ordinary criminals to integrate seamlessly into law enforcement operations. With no way to differentiate between official officers and opportunistic thugs in many cases where we see plain-clothes riff-raff in security, the public will finally achieve peak confusion—a state of equilibrium where no one knows who to trust.
And let’s not forget the psychological benefits. Fear has long been an effective governance tool, and what better way to maintain it than through security forces that resemble characters from a horror film? The mere sight of an unmarked vehicle full of masked figures will ensure citizens remain disciplined, cautious, and forever guessing.
Of course, some unenlightened individuals may complain that unidentifiable security personnel could lead to abuses of power, extrajudicial actions, or wrongful arrests. But let’s be honest—those things happen even when officers have name tags. So why bother with the illusion of transparency?
If anything, removing identification only speeds up the process. Pwah-Pwah-Pwah! Why waste time investigating misconduct when you can’t even tell who did it in the first place? And even if you did, what will you do with it, report to the very chaps who assigned them? And they do what?
Uganda has never been closer to perfecting the art of governance through mystery and intimidation. With security forces now operating like real-life specters, citizens can embrace the exhilarating uncertainty of daily life.
Who needs rule of law when you can have rule of the unknown? After all, nothing quite keeps people in check like the possibility of being arrested by a faceless force with no name, no badge, and absolutely no accountability.
Bravo, Genera! The future of security is dark, hooded, and completely untraceable. This way, they can even turn against their own masters knowing it will take time for them to be identified. And if that doesn’t make Uganda safer, what will?
