By Patrick K. Ssentongo — Kampala, Uganda
As campaign songs fill the air and posters colour city walls, Uganda is once again in election mode. Amid the rallies and promises, a quieter question lingers: what place does culture hold in the political agenda?
For years, Uganda’s creatives have kept the nation’s heartbeat alive, yet culture remains sidelined — celebrated on stage but forgotten in budgets. With the 2026 elections approaching, artists are studying manifestos more closely than ever, wary of the usual recycled pledges to “support talent.”
Could this finally be the election where culture gets its due?
President Yoweri Kaguta Museveni featured on the NRM Manifesto 2026–2031, themed “Protecting the Gains.” The ruling party emphasizes sports, youth, and creative infrastructure.
Now, as the political race heats up ahead of the January 2026 general elections, creatives are watching the manifestos more closely than ever. In a country where every political season comes with recycled pledges about “supporting talent,” the creative sector has learned to clap cautiously.The big question, however, is this: will this be the election where culture finally gets its share?
Two Manifestos, Two Lenses
For years, cultural advocates across Africa have been rallying governments to commit at least 1% of their national budgets to culture, as per the African Union’s recommendation — a goal actively championed by CfCA. Uganda, like many others, pledged support in principle. But in practice, culture often sits at the bottom of budget allocations, overshadowed by sectors seen as more “urgent.”
Side-by-side manifestos of Uganda’s leading political parties, reflecting different visions for culture, youth, and creativity.
This election season, Uganda’s leading political parties — the ruling National Resistance Movement (NRM), now in its fourth decade of governance, and the opposition National Unity Platform (NUP) — both make mention of culture and the creative industries in their manifestos as central pillars for tackling youth unemployment and promoting national identity. But how they see it — and what they promise — says a lot about where Uganda’s creative future might go.
The NRM manifesto speaks of “investing in young people with talent to fight youth unemployment” and outlines commitments such as enforcing copyright laws to protect artists, capitalizing a revolving fund for creatives, establishing a modern national theatre and regional creative hubs, and investing UGX 1.4 trillion in stadia and sports infrastructure.
At first glance, it’s an ambitious vision — one that frames creativity not just as art but as business. Yet questions linger about implementation. How much of this investment is earmarked for culture itself, and not just sports? And more importantly, how much of it translates into sustained funding — the kind that keeps artists producing and cultural centres thriving long after the campaigns end? The NUP manifesto strikes a similar note but with a stronger tilt toward structural reform. It promises to “create 10 million new jobs by 2032 through sports and the creative economy.” Among its key pledges are a National Creative Industries Fund, fast-tracking copyright and intellectual property laws, annual festivals and cultural tourism drives, regional cultural centres of excellence, and rebranding Uganda as a “Global Talent and Culture Hub.
Robert Kyagulanyi Ssentamu (Bobi Wine) on the NUP Manifesto 2026–2031, themed “A New Uganda Now!” — signaling a new focus on jobs and the creative economy.
For advocates tracking the 1% for Culture movement, this is welcome language. It reflects growing recognition that creativity isn’t a luxury — it’s an economic driver. Studies show that Uganda’s CCIs contribute about 3% to national GDP and employ hundreds of thousands, especially youth and women. Yet without consistent investment, their full potential remains untapped.
“What we see in these manifestos,” says arts administrator Charles Batambuze, “is a growing recognition that culture is not just entertainment. It is governance, economics, and identity. The question is who will act, not just promise.”
Batambuze notes that the NRM deserves credit for including copyright protection measures but faults its track record on intellectual property reform. He highlights the Security Interest in Movable Property (SIMPO) initiative as one of Uganda’s most promising legal tools — allowing artists to leverage their IP as collateral, turning creativity into bankable capital.
The NUP’s manifesto, on the other hand, he says, is “bold and data-driven — a welcome shock in a political space that too often serves poetry instead of policy.” Assigning measurable job targets to the creative economy, he argues, places art and culture squarely in Uganda’s economic framework.
“All said, on paper, each of these manifestos sounds reasonable. But without political will and financial discipline, these promises risk becoming another chapter in Uganda’s long anthology of unfulfilled manifestos.”
Beyond economics, culture remains one of Uganda’s most underused tools for peacebuilding and civic engagement. From traditional storytelling circles to community theatres and socially conscious music, cultural expression has long been a vehicle for dialogue, healing, and unity.
In a nation of diverse ethnicities and histories, art provides what politics often cannot — a shared language.
The NRM manifesto pledges to “increase support for sports in schools for talent identification and development,” a nod to social cohesion through shared activity. It also commits to a modern national theatre and exhibition spaces — platforms that, if realized, could nurture civic conversation and national pride.
The NUP manifesto goes further, placing cultural tourism and creative storytelling at the heart of its peace agenda. It speaks of “developing regional athletics and cultural centres of excellence” and handing them over to private operators for sustainable management — a vision that positions culture as a living economy, one that keeps communities engaged, empowered, and economically active.
“We’ve seen how music brings people together faster than politics ever can,” says artiste Herman Ssewanyana. “What we need now is a government that funds that power.”
A Call Beyond Manifestos
A walk through Uganda’s urban spaces reveals perhaps the country’s biggest untapped asset — youthful creative energy. From self-taught photographers to TikTok creators, from fashion designers in downtown arcades to producers in makeshift studios, the nation’s youth are creating livelihoods out of imagination.
Both NRM and NUP acknowledge this pulse in their manifestos. The NRM promises to “establish regional creative hubs for talent identification and development,” while NUP pledges grants, low-interest loans, and training for musicians, designers, and filmmakers — with attention to gender inclusion and traditional games as part of heritage preservation.
This is where public investment can make or break the creative economy. According to CfCA’s Baseline Study and Stakeholder Mapping Report for public investment in Uganda’s culture sector, increasing national budget allocation to at least 1% for culture could unlock unprecedented potential: more jobs for youth, greater participation of women in leadership, and stronger value chains linking art to trade, innovation, and tourism.
“Uganda’s 1% for culture commitment should no longer be an aspiration but an action plan — one embedded in the national budget, protected by policy, and felt by artists on the ground,” says cultural policy expert Amos Tindyebwa.
Uganda’s creative economy does not need another campaign promise; it needs policy coherence, increased funding, and strong public-private partnerships that treat CCIs as an enterprise. The National Cultural Policy and Creative Economy Framework already exist — what’s missing is political will.
The best blueprint for the future may combine both party perspectives: the NRM’s structural foundations and NUP’s economic ambition. Together, they could transform Uganda’s cultural wealth into measurable national growth.
Editor’s Note
Patrick K. Ssentongo is a Ugandan journalist, storyteller, and content producer whose work spotlights the intersections of policy, culture, and community voices.
In this feature, he explores how Uganda’s 2026 elections could redefine the country’s cultural and creative industries — and what competing political visions reveal about the role of culture in national development.Patrick’s analysis reminds us that manifestos matter — not just for politics, but for culture as a foundation of peace, identity, and sustainable growth.
