Latif Sebaggala’s name has long been a fixture in the political landscape. For two decades, from 2001 to 2021, he represented Kawempe North in Parliament, earning respect as a seasoned politician and serving as the Imam of the parliamentary mosque.
His tenure was marked by a strong connection to his constituents, bolstered by his ownership of Kisaasi College, a thriving institution that provides education and bursaries to hundreds of students.
Yet, as the 2026 elections loom, Sebaggala’s decision to vie for the mayorship of Kawempe—a position seen by many as a political downgrade—has sparked a heated debate.
Critics argue that politicians like Sebaggala should step aside to make way for a younger generation, while others suggest his persistence reflects an obsession with power and influence.
Sebaggala’s political journey began in 2001, riding the wave of his elder brother Nasser Ntege Sebaggala’s cult-like popularity. Nasser, a former Kampala mayor known as “Seya,” had captivated the city with his charisma and message of comradeship.
Latif, leveraging this legacy, secured the Kawempe North seat and held it for four terms, navigating the turbulent waters of Ugandan politics with a blend of grassroots appeal and strategic alliances. His ownership of Kisaasi College School further cemented his influence, providing jobs, education, and bursaries that endeared him to many in Kawempe.
As he said in a 2020 interview, “The people of Kawempe North asked me to return to parliament because I have served them diligently and my record is clear.” His contributions, including commissioning an ambulance for his constituents, underscored his commitment to service.
However, the 2021 elections marked a turning point. After initially eyeing the Kampala Lord Mayorship, a position held by his long-time ally Erias Lukwago, Ssebaggala made a series of political U-turns. He briefly secured the National Unity Platform (NUP) ticket for mayor but withdrew, citing the need for opposition unity.
He then returned to contest Kawempe North as an independent, only to suffer a crushing defeat to Muhammad Ssegirinya, a youthful, grassroots politician who polled 41,197 votes to Ssebaggala’s 3,919.
The loss was a stark reminder of shifting political tides, with younger voters rallying behind Ssegirinya’s relatable persona and social media savvy, earning him the nickname “Mr. Update.”
Ssegirinya’s victory highlighted a generational shift in Ugandan politics. Born in 1988, he rose from humble beginnings in Masaka, using radio talk shows to build a following as the “voice of Kyebando.” Tragically, Ssegirinya’s death in January 2025 at age 36 left a void, but his brief tenure underscored the potential of younger leaders to transform constituencies.
Sebaggala’s decision to run for Kawempe mayor in 2026, rather than retiring, has fueled criticism that he clings to power.
Yet his reluctance to step aside suggests a deeper issue: an obsession with influence. As one Kawempe resident remarked, “Without a title, he feels inconsequential. Kisaasi College gives him money, but politics gives him status.”
The school, with its thousands of students and substantial revenue, offers a comfortable retirement nest, yet Sebaggala persists in the political arena, where his recent electoral loss suggests diminishing returns.
Sebaggala’s flip-flopping—like when he vowed to challenge Lukwago in 2021, before withdrawing, and returning to Kawempe North—has painted him as indecisive, a trait that frustrates voters craving bold, consistent leadership.
Abbey Kibirige Semuwemba, a Ugandan analyst once argued that “the difficulty in admitting failure largely comes from the unrealistic expectation that politicians should get it right all the time.”
Sebaggala’s refusal to acknowledge his electoral setbacks as a signal to retire reinforces perceptions of entitlement.
Moreover, the political landscape in Kawempe is evolving. The 2025 by-election to replace Ssegirinya saw nine candidates, including four from NUP, vying for the seat. This influx of fresh faces suggests Kawempe is ready for new voices, unburdened by decades-long political baggage.
Sebaggala’s wealth and connections, including his ties to the Muslim community and past alliances give him an edge, but they also highlight a reliance on established networks rather than innovative ideas.
Critics also point to the broader implications of veteran politicians overstaying. Uganda’s opposition, particularly NUP, has struggled with internal divisions, partly because seasoned figures like Sebaggala compete with emerging leaders.
If Sebaggala chose to step side, he could become a mentor to younger politicians, leveraging his experience as a former MP and community leader to guide rather than dominate.
Sebaggala contributions to Kawempe North during the 20 years he served as MP are undeniable, but his refusal to retire risks overshadowing his legacy.
The fact that he is even willing to run as a division mayor speaks volumes about his determination to posses political power and influence at whatever cost.
In a nation hungry for change at the top, retirement may be the most powerful legacy Sebaggala can leave.
