In Kampala, Uganda’s capital, a government minister’s home has been under threat of invasion by tuk-tuk riders.

She dared ban them from plying their trade in the already congested city. The problem is one of the government neglecting its regulatory functions and making Uganda a society of “anything goes” in almost all spheres of life.

In a discussion with a friend recently about how to keep one’s home secure against rampant burglary and petty thieving, he narrated how he had considered hiring an armed guard from a private security company. Then someone told him something that forced him to rethink his options.

Down the road, two security guards had conspired with criminals and stolen from the very commercial premises they had been contracted to guard. If that was shocking, what he heard next was staggering. The security company that employed them discovered that they had registered for employment under false names. Their village of origin did not exist. Also fake were the phone numbers of the referees who had allegedly recommended them for employment. They couldn’t be traced.

Clearly, whoever or whatever agency has the mandate and the responsibility to ensure that private security companies maintain high standards is not diligent.

Instances of this kind that point to failures of regulation are so common that to a certain degree, Ugandans have forgotten the very meaning of the word. We do not necessarily demand it when it is missing and our rights are trampled upon by whoever feels like doing so.

Naked exploitation

Consider the commuter taxi industry. It is now an accepted fact of life among Ugandans that taxi drivers and the conductors who assist them are at liberty to decide what fares they charge for what journeys, and what to charge in the morning and evening rush hours and even in the afternoon when business gets a little slow.

That they do this and that Ugandans accept it with meekness, and that the government has not interested itself in the matter with a view to protecting commuters against naked exploitation, is a great puzzle. Until one considers another Ugandan peculiarity: The chaotic pricing of petrol and diesel.

In Kampala and all along the country’s highways and in upcountry towns, each dealer is seemingly at liberty to decide what price to sell at. And so if you have no time to hunt for cheaply priced fuel, you have to pay whatever a dealer wants. And the danger in hunting for cheap fuel, a common story goes, lies in the risk of buying adulterated diesel or fuel and putting your vehicle at risk.

And so if you’re the type that won’t take such a risk, you condemn yourself to paying prices on the higher end of the scale.

The story that some fuel companies adulterate their fuel and sell cheap could even be a hoax, an old wives’ tale passed on from one person to another in the classic oral history tradition. But in a country where laxity in regulation defines the relationship between the government and service providers, many live by the dictum “better safe than sorry.”

Impunity

And now to one of my obsessions regarding the absence or laxity of regulation: The “education” industry. It, too, is afflicted by the excessive laissez-faire so evident in the boda boda, gambling, money lending, and prayer industries. I shall return shortly to the tyranny and impunity of born-again churches.

For now, some details about the education industry. I use the term industry advisedly in reference to a specific aspect of the education sector: Private schools. Their proliferation across the country has reached epidemic proportions. That is in itself not a bad thing. Except that the capacity for regulation via inspection has not kept pace with the growth in the numbers of schools.

The list of malpractices the Ministry of Education could stamp out if it had the capacity or interest, perhaps resources too, is long. Among the most significant is forcing students, through multiple ruses, to remain at school during holiday periods. This is when they should be resting and helping to run errands at home as part of their social training, which is just as important as preparing oneself for a career in this or that profession.

A key ruse here is that for the privilege of their children staying at school during holiday periods, parents and guardians must pay up and then do so again when eventually the school term begins.

There is a strong dose of injustice in these practices, especially where the parents of some students cannot afford to keep them at school. The injustice lies in schools continuing to teach as if it were normal term time. By the time those students who could not stay return, their peers who stayed will have covered much of the syllabus.

And now to born-again churches, some of which have planted themselves in residential areas. Taking advantage of the lack of regulation, they make such noise that if one wants to lie in and rest and recuperate on Sundays, it is not possible. One is literally terrorised in one’s home, with impunity.

Meanwhile the government, whose job is to manage and regulate all this and protect us from abuse, is nowhere to be seen.

The writer is a Kampala- and Kigali-based researcher and writer on politics and public affairs.