
Uganda’s Parliament, once nicknamed the “House of Deals” by a local newspaper, is once again living up to its name. In a move that has shocked few but angered many, every Member of Parliament—regardless of political party—has walked into the Easter break Shs100 million richer. The money, quietly drawn from the Shs4 trillion supplementary budget passed last month, was reportedly given to MPs to help mobilise their constituents to support government programmes.
The timing and secrecy of these payments, however, have raised serious concerns. Many are questioning whether this is yet another case of taxpayer money being misused for political gain. Sources say National Resistance Movement (NRM) MPs collected their money from the Office of the President on Parliament’s Level 4, while opposition and independent MPs received theirs on Level 5. The sudden cash distribution has sparked a fierce debate, with some MPs defending the payments while others remain silent or uneasy about the implications.
The opposition has been quick to condemn the move, accusing the government of using public funds for political manipulation. Robert Kyagulanyi, leader of the National Unity Platform (NUP), has been particularly vocal, demanding full transparency.
“We need clear accountability and transparency in how this money is being spent. It’s crucial that Ugandans know where their money is going,” Kyagulanyi said last week. His concerns echo those of many citizens who see this as another example of MPs benefiting while ordinary Ugandans struggle with high taxes and poor public services.
Some MPs have admitted that the money is meant for mobilisation, but others have refused to comment or claimed it is for promoting government initiatives. The lack of a clear explanation has only deepened suspicions. With 529 MPs and over 28 ex-officials in the 11th Parliament, the total amount distributed could exceed Shs50 billion—a staggering sum that critics say could have been better spent on healthcare, education, or infrastructure.
This is not the first time Parliament has handed out huge sums of money to MPs under questionable circumstances. In 2017, each legislator received Shs200 million as compensation for “unforeseen expenses” during the push to amend the Constitution—a move that allowed President Yoweri Museveni to extend his rule. Then, in 2018, Parliament approved Shs10 billion for MPs to conduct “consultations” ahead of the controversial age limit vote, which removed presidential age restrictions.
Each time, the government justified the payments as necessary for parliamentary work, but critics saw them as bribes to ensure loyalty. Now, with another election cycle approaching, many fear this latest cash handout is another tactic to keep MPs in line.
The backlash has been swift, with activists and ordinary citizens demanding answers. Social media is flooded with angry comments, with many Ugandans accusing MPs of greed and betrayal.
“How can MPs take Shs100 million each when hospitals lack medicine and teachers go unpaid?” asked one Twitter user. Another commented, “This is why we call it the ‘House of Deals’—our leaders are only interested in money, not service.”
Even some MPs appear uncomfortable with the payments. A few have privately admitted that the lack of clear guidelines on how the money should be used raises red flags. Without proper oversight, there is a real risk that the funds could be misused—either for personal gain or to buy political support ahead of elections.
As the debate rages on, the big question is whether there will be any real accountability. Past cash handouts have gone unchecked, with no serious investigations or consequences for misuse. Unless there is strong public pressure, this latest scandal may also fade away without answers.
For now, MPs are Shs100 million richer, but Ugandans are left wondering: Who really benefits from these payments? And when will leaders stop treating public money like a personal slush fund? One thing is clear—until there is true transparency and accountability, Uganda’s Parliament will continue to be seen not as a house of the people, but as a house of deals.