Yesterday morning, Uganda woke up to two poignant stories about two men—both named Sam—who served the same government, but whose destinies couldn’t be more different.
The first is Sam Kahamba Kutesa, a seasoned political insider who masterfully blended public service with personal businesses for over three decades. A permanent fixture in Uganda’s corridors of power, Kutesa held multiple ministerial posts and managed to survive political storms that would have sunk lesser men. Even after Parliament forced his resignation over corruption allegations, he bounced back into Cabinet within two years—unscathed and unrepentant. He joined politics as Member of Parliament in 1980, and retired in 2021 having served as the longest Foreign Affairs Minister. He also served as a President of the United Nations General Assembly, Attorney General and Member of Parliament from 1996 to 2021. When he retired he was replaced by his daughter as a Member of Parliament. During his tenure apart from being censured as a Minister he was named in the CHOGM scandal in 2007, he was also accused of soliciting a bribe of 500,000 dollars from a Chinese Investor in the United States while serving as the President UN Assembly. While they Chinese Investor was found guilty and sentenced in the Use Courts, Kutesa walked scoot free. He was also named in the oil scandal, being accused of influencing tenders among others
Kutesa’s tenure coincided with some of the darkest chapters in Uganda’s political history, including the 2011 “Walk to Work” protests led by opposition figure Dr. Kizza Besigye. At the time, Kutesa was comfortably seated in government as the state cracked down on dissent with characteristic brutality.
Enter the second Sam: Sam Omalla, a rugged, fiercely loyal, and minimally educated police officer handpicked by the regime to “handle Besigye.” His role? Suppress the opposition—by any means necessary.
Omalla quickly became a household name, known for his brutal enforcement, bizarre soundbites, and unapologetic swagger. He once famously told the press that no creature—not even a mosquito—would be allowed to leave Besigye’s home in Kasangati. He was equal parts enforcer and jester, his violence often peppered with theatrics.
When the state introduced the concept of preventive arrest—a relic of authoritarian law—Omalla eagerly embraced it. He may not have fully understood it, once telling a journalist that Besigye was under “detentive arrest”. Whatever that meant, Omalla knew only one thing: keep Besigye and the opposition boxed in, for the comfort of men like Kutesa.
His loyalty did not go unrewarded. Promotions came fast—some say too fast—offering a clear message to other officers: blind obedience is a career path.
Omalla retired in 2019 as a senior officer. He attempted to transition into elective politics, but the same people he once policed with an iron fist didn’t welcome him. Eventually, he found work in private security.
Both Sams were later diagnosed with cancer.
Kutesa, with his deep pockets and powerful connections, flew to Germany for specialized treatment in 2022—and survived. In a show of gratitude to God, he recently built a two-billion-shilling church in his home district of Sembabule.
Omalla, on the other hand, became a footnote. His family struggled to raise money for treatment, moving him from small clinics to the public ward at Mulago Hospital, where he passed away yesterday at 64. He may well be eulogized in that same lavish church built by Kutesa—not a cancer center that could have helped others like him.
Both men served the same regime. One will live to commission monuments; the other will be remembered in an obituary. One beat cancer in Europe; the other succumbed to it in Mulago.
This is the story of two Sams—bound by service, divided by privilege.
The author is a Patriotic Uganda
