The issue of development assistance has been on the lips of many in the Great Lakes region of late. Fuelling the talk has been the decision by a number of donor countries and by bilateral aid organisations to cut or withhold assistance following developments that offended principles or practices they claim to hold dear.

Uganda is one of the countries affected by these decisions, prompted by the massive theft of funds earmarked for the reconstruction of northern and eastern Uganda under the Peace, Recovery and Development Plan (PRDP).

This special initiative was meant to help these regions recover from and overcome the effects of the nearly two decades of devastation they suffered as a result of the war between the Ugandan military and the Lord’s Resistance Army. A great deal of this money, millions of US dollars, flowed directly from donors into the coffers of the government.

This approach to providing aid is driven by the best of intentions: Allowing aid-recipient governments the space to make the critical decisions pertaining to how, where, and when to spend.

This, it is believed, not only facilitates institutional capacity building among relevant government organs, but also begets a sense of ownership over spending and other decisions as well as their outcomes.

For the donors, it has the advantage of shielding them from accusations of excessive meddling and from assuming responsibility for any failures or sub-optimal outcomes.

The methodical and seemingly highly participatory robbing of the PRDP has, however, shown how the saying, “the road to hell is paved with good intentions” can, from time to time, carry real meaning.

Also, it raises questions about why, up until the scandal exploded into the public domain, donors had no clue their money was being diverted from the uses for which it had been originally intended.

It boggles the mind to imagine they could have been so trusting of a government that, despite having elaborate anti-corruption legislation, with a multiplicity of anti-corruption bodies to match, has suffered much negative publicity over the years because of large amounts of public money going astray.

Only a few years ago, the World Bank revealed to Ugandans and the world that large amounts of money was lost to corruption associated with procurement processes within government ministries, departments and agencies.

The revelation caused much consternation and debate among the country’s urban elites and then, as with many debates of the kind, petered out in the face of a studied silence from the government. Thereafter, life carried on as if nothing had happened.

And then there was the scandal involving the disappearance from the accounts of the Ministry of Health of money meant for medicines and other inputs for the health care system.

True, some of it was subsequently recovered from those who had taken it without justification, and a number of senior personages were dragged through the courts. That, however, does not detract from the fact that the disappearance itself ought to have raised questions in the minds of donors about how best to ensure that money handed to the government did not disappear.

If it did, it would be interesting to find out what answers may have been arrived at, and what actions taken to protect it. There have been other scandals about which similar issues and questions could be raised.

In some cases donors have made some noise, suspended aid, only to hand it back on the quiet. The cumulative effect of the scandals has been a collapse in the credibility of the Ugandans government.

It is clear from the public debate surrounding the latest corruption scandal that more than just a few Ugandans believe donors are to blame for the continued disappearance of their money.

A common question being asked is why they are so inconsistent and half-hearted in their reactions, making a noise here and there, and keeping a low profile in other cases.

A theory has emerged: They only react when it is their money being diverted and look the other way when it is Ugandan taxpayers’ money.

A conclusion has also been reached: surely if they know that money from the government’s own sources disappears, they ought to know that theirs, once put in the same hands, will suffer the same fate. Since they seem not to care too much, may be it’s just as well it gets eaten.

Frederick Golooba-Mutebi is a Kampala- and Kigali-based researcher and writer on politics and public affairs. E-mail: [email protected]