Written By | Evan Sande Ndahura
Evan Sande Ndahura is a Ugandan political and legal commentator, columnist, poet, and social justice advocate.
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The unfolding prosecution of Agnes Nandutu in the Karamoja iron sheets scandal raises a question that cuts to the very heart of Uganda’s justice system: when many were implicated, why does one stand alone at the bar?
The case, now before the Anti-Corruption Court under the stewardship of Jane Okuo Kajuga, has drawn national attention—not merely because of the alleged misappropriation of public resources, but because of the deeper constitutional and political implications it carries. The assessors’ recommendation to convict Nandutu for dealing in suspect property may well be grounded in evidentiary reasoning; yet, the broader context within which this prosecution sits cannot be ignored.
At the center of the storm lies the Office of the Prime Minister, an institution constitutionally mandated to coordinate government business and ensure equitable service delivery. It was from this office that iron sheets intended for vulnerable communities in Karamoja—under a government empowerment programme—were distributed. However, what began as a development intervention soon morphed into a scandal of national proportions, as reports emerged that senior political and administrative figures had diverted the iron sheets for personal use.
The scandal implicated a range of high-profile actors: ministers, permanent secretaries, and other political elites. Public disclosures suggested that iron sheets were found in private residences, farms, and constituencies far removed from Karamoja. The issue was not merely an administrative error—it pointed to a systemic breakdown in accountability and ethical governance.
Yet, as the legal process unfolded under the direction of the Directorate of Public Prosecutions Uganda, a curious pattern emerged. While several individuals were initially investigated, only a select few were prosecuted. Others were quietly dropped from the charge sheet, with explanations ranging from insufficient evidence to the restitution of the iron sheets.
This selective prosecution raises fundamental constitutional concerns. Article 21 of the Constitution of Uganda, 1995 guarantees equality before the law and equal protection of the law. It demands that all persons in similar circumstances be treated alike, without discrimination. When multiple individuals are alleged to have engaged in similar conduct, the law must apply uniformly—or risk losing its legitimacy.
Equally significant is Article 28, which guarantees the right to a fair hearing. Fairness is not only about courtroom procedure; it extends to the integrity of the prosecutorial process itself. If prosecutorial discretion is exercised in a manner that appears arbitrary or influenced by extraneous considerations, it undermines the very foundation of justice.
The question, therefore, is not whether Nandutu should face trial. If evidence exists that she unlawfully possessed or dealt with government property, the law must take its course. The real question is whether the same standard has been applied to all those implicated in the scandal.
Legal scholars have long warned against the dangers of selective justice. The principle of prosecutorial discretion, while necessary, must be exercised judiciously and transparently. When the public perceives that the law is being used not as a neutral instrument of justice but as a selective tool of accountability, confidence in institutions begins to erode.
This is not merely a legal issue—it is a political one. In many jurisdictions, scandals of this nature expose the underlying dynamics of power: who is protected, who is expendable, and who becomes the “sacrificial lamb” in the theatre of public accountability. The risk is that justice becomes performative—designed to demonstrate action rather than deliver fairness.
The Karamoja iron sheets saga also raises broader questions about governance and public trust. The resources in question were intended for some of the most vulnerable citizens in Uganda. Their diversion represents not only a breach of law but a moral failure of leadership. In such circumstances, accountability must be comprehensive, not selective.
It is worth recalling that the Constitution, under Article 126, mandates that justice shall be administered in accordance with the law and shall not be delayed or denied. Importantly, it emphasizes that justice must be substantive, not merely procedural. Substantive justice demands that the law look beyond isolated acts and examine the full context within which those acts occurred.
If, indeed, multiple actors participated in the misallocation of iron sheets, then justice requires a holistic approach—one that addresses the entire chain of responsibility, from policy formulation to implementation and oversight.
The role of the judiciary, in this context, is both delicate and critical. Courts must remain impartial arbiters, guided solely by evidence and the law. However, they operate within a broader ecosystem of investigation and prosecution. Where that ecosystem is perceived to be uneven, the burden on the judiciary becomes even greater.
As the judgment date approaches, the case of Agnes Nandutu will undoubtedly serve as a litmus test—not only of individual culpability but of institutional integrity. It will challenge the prosecution to justify its choices, the judiciary to uphold constitutional principles, and the public to reflect on the nature of justice in Uganda.
Ultimately, the legitimacy of any legal system rests on a simple but profound principle: justice must not only be done, but must be seen to be done—equally, consistently, and without fear or favor.
If one stands alone where many stood together, the law must answer not only what happened, but why.
Because in the court of public conscience, selective accountability is not justice—it is strategy.
About the Writer
Evan Sande Ndahura is a Ugandan political and legal commentator, columnist, poet, and social justice advocate whose writings focus on governance, constitutionalism, democracy, and the political economy of power in Africa. He is widely published on issues of judicial accountability, electoral justice, human rights, and institutional reform, with a particular emphasis on Uganda’s political and legal systems. Ndahura writes from a critical Pan-African perspective, interrogating the failures of state institutions and the lived realities of ordinary citizens under entrenched systems of power. He believes that the liberation of Africa will occur through the power of the pen, not the gun.
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