By Oguzu Lee (MP)
The illusion of influence is in a video that reveals everything– the viral video shows Hon. Peter Ogwang in Amuru, proudly listing Teso’s “influential” government appointees—from Vice President to Speaker to ministers, army commanders, permanent secretaries, agency heads, etc—as proof of the region’s political clout. To the untrained ear, it sounds impressive and a big deal. But for the ordinary people of Teso, these titles ring hollow. Behind the glitter of appointments lies a grim reality; systemic neglect, unfulfilled promises, and a widening gap between elites and the impoverished masses. Let the authoritative data speaks starting with health:
In many parts of Teso, health, a lifeline is denied. The Harsh truth is Teso’s maternal mortality rate (368 deaths per 100,000 births) surpasses Uganda’s national average (336). Only 47% of births occur in health facilities, compared to 74% nationally (UBOS 2021). Malaria ravages Teso, with 43% of outpatient cases tied to the disease (Ministry of Health, 2023).
It’s said Soroti referral hospital theatre has been condemned and doesn’t have critical medical ward and required specialists in Orthopedics, Radiology. XRAY machine, a basic tool for diagnostics is either missing or nonfunctional.
The Elite Paradox–while Teso’s elites occupy air-conditioned offices in Kampala, rural mothers die preventable deaths in dimly lit Health centres some have remained unupgraded. Districta like Bukedea do not have government hospitals despite their leaders occupying positions of influence as enumerated. The Soroti Regional Referral Hospital, touted as a “success,” remains understaffed and ill-equipped. Appointees secure donor-funded projects, yet corruption and ghost workers drain resources meant for medicines and midwives. The result? A health system that serves political optics, not people.
Further more, in Teso, education means empty classrooms and empty promises. Here is why the numbers will not lie; 89% of Teso’s children enroll in primary school—but 40% vanish by Primary 7, forced into child marriage or labor (UBOS 2021). Literacy rates (65%) trail far behind Central Uganda (80%). Soroti University, launched in 2015 with fanfare, enrolls fewer Teso youth than outsiders, offering scant STEM programs to break the cycle of poverty. The elite disconnect in Teso is real. Teso’s leaders boast of “Universal Primary Education,” but what good are classrooms without teachers, books, or meals? While elites send their children to Kampala’s elite schools, rural pupils sit on cracked floors, taught by demoralized staff. Education in rural Teso isn’t a ladder—it’s a trap. Despite their son being in charge of sports in Uganda, the region does not have public stadium despite availability of land right in the middle of Soroti city.
Economy of Teso is defined by cronyism rather than progress that is why staggering Inequality persist. Poverty rate stand at 42% in Teso against 21.4% nationally (UNDP 2023). Youth unemployment persists at 65%, driving mass migration to Kampala’s slums (UBOS 2022) and 70% of Teso’s land remains trapped in subsistence farming, while elites carve out commercial leases for themselves.
Teso was once food basket but today we have been reduced to beggars. There ministers ministers but the Teso compensation remains in court rulings.
Rural Teso used to produced respected professors in the past without those positions but today education has been made very expensive, only the rich can educate their children. The meat packers that was our Economic backbone, cannot be saved by the appointments. Have the appointments replaced the people’s cows that formed the backbone of Teso’s economy?
Despite the above human development indecies, the elite playbook will recite Soroti Fruit factory. Yes, the Soroti Fruit Factory employs 8,000 farmers—a token “success” paraded in speeches without real value to the farmer. Let’s stop to ask: who controls the profits? Crony middlemen and politically connected landowners. Previouly NAADS funds meant for seeds and tools vanish into pockets, leaving farmers to battle droughts with hoes and prayers. Elite will grow richer as Teso’s soil grows poorer.
The theft and lack of oversight is the rot beneath the surface. So many scandals, ghost projects, and diverted funds have plagued Teso. Why? Because appointments reward loyalty, not competence—technocrats are often sidelined for sycophants. Development clusters are visible in Soroti town, while rural Katakwi languishes without roads or electricity. Ask Teso’s leaders about accountability, and they’ll point to a new road or factory ribbon-cutting. But ask a farmer in Kumi why her cooperative never received promised loans, and she’ll whisper, “They ate the money.” Power in Teso isn’t for service—it’s for survival of the connected.
Therefore can Teso progress without tearing down the illusions? No! Truth be told, Teso doesn’t need more influential names on letterheads. It needs leaders who remember their roots—and policies that lift the many, not the few.
The region’s human development indices remain shackled by elite capture of resources and opportunities, political theater with prioritization of photo opportunities over clinics and schools and a culture of impunity that punishes the poor and rewards the powerful.
As a way forward, what Teso needs is to tie every appointment to measurable Human Development Index targets (e.g., “reduce maternal deaths by 30% in 5 years—or resign”), decentralized power to grassroots councils, stripping elites of their monopolies and prosecution of corruption publicly—no more “quiet reshuffles” for thieves in suits. Enough with the failures and betrayals of appointments.
