As Ugandans plant to celebrate Easter with prayers and reflection, Members of Parliament have quietly marked it with a hefty Shs100 million windfall—each.
The money, drawn from a Shs4 trillion supplementary budget passed in March, is reportedly for “mobilising constituents” in support of government programs.
But the lack of transparency surrounding the payout has triggered an uproar, reigniting concerns about corruption and political manipulation in Uganda’s legislature.
According to sources within Parliament, National Resistance Movement (NRM) MPs collected their funds from the Office of the President on Level 4, while opposition and independent MPs were directed to Level 5 of Parliament to receive theirs.
Public reaction has been swift—and damning. Critics are calling it yet another cash bonanza in a Parliament increasingly seen as disconnected from ordinary Ugandans. The secretive nature of the payouts, combined with vague justifications, has only added fuel to the fire.
National Unity Platform (NUP) leader Robert Kyagulanyi, also known as Bobi Wine, is among those demanding accountability.
“We need clear transparency in how this money is being spent,” he said while addressing journalists at Parliament last week. “Ugandans deserve to know where their taxes are going.”
Some MPs have tried to justify the payment, claiming it’s essential for mobilizing support ahead of key government initiatives. Others, however, have gone silent, further raising suspicion about the true purpose behind the sudden disbursement.
This is far from the first time Parliament has come under fire for controversial payouts. In 2017, legislators were each given Shs200 million during the constitutional amendment debate that scrapped presidential age limits. A year later, MPs controversially approved Shs10 billion for “consultations” tied to the same vote.
Now, with 529 MPs and over 28 ex-officials potentially receiving Shs100 million apiece, the total cost to taxpayers is astronomical.
The episode has reopened old wounds about how Parliament uses public funds—and whether the institution is serving citizens or political interests.
Civil society groups and opposition parties warn that such financial largesse risks cementing political patronage and weakening democratic accountability.
Ugandans, meanwhile, are left wondering: if the economy is struggling, schools underfunded, and hospitals stretched thin, how is there always enough money for MPs?
