There is a saying in Uganda – “A thief has 40 days.” It means that no matter how clever or long-running the deceit, the perpetrator will eventually stumble, slip, and be caught. The clock is always ticking.

For nearly four decades, Uganda has lived under the shadow of a single ruler, and that clock is running down. Each election isn’t a celebration of democracy; it’s a grim, predictable routine of intimidation, manipulation, and violence. This is the true, human cost of dictatorship.

It is seen in the unexplained disappearances that steal loved ones from their beds. It is heard in the cry of the children who will never again see their fathers, and in the anxious silence of wives who don’t know if their husbands are alive or dead. It is felt by civilians rotting in prisons on fictitious charges, or those dragged before military courts meant for soldiers, not ordinary people. For too many, the journey ends in a grave with no marker – stolen lives, broken families, and silenced dreams.

The suffering is compounded by poor governance – youth unemployment suffocates hope, corruption devours our public funds, our hospitals are poorly equipped, roads are broken, and a simple thing like reliable mass transport remains a fantasy. Unaffordable housing pushes young men into slums, creating a breeding ground for desperation.

And yet, history offers a stubborn hope. Even the strongest dictators eventually face their day of reckoning. We saw it in Serbia in 2000, when Slobodan Milošević’s manipulations finally collapsed under the weight of popular resistance. We saw it in The Gambia in 2016, when Yahya Jammeh was forced out after a shocking election loss despite his every effort to cling to power.

The proverb stands: a thief has 40 days. A power built on fear is fundamentally fragile. It will crumble the moment a critical mass of people simply refuses to bow down.

So, to every Ugandan who feels their vote is meaningless, who feels overwhelmed by the sheer scale of the regime’s power: remember this. Not voting is functionally the same as voting for Museveni. His most committed supporters will never fail to show up. It is only those who have lost hope and stayed home who hand him his victory by default.

None of us knows when that 40th day will arrive. It could be the very next election. Your single ballot, placed alongside millions of others, could be the final, necessary piece that marks the day the thief gets caught, the day Uganda finally turns the page.

Do not hand him victory by sitting at home. Do not surrender your voice. Go and vote – because even the longest, darkest reign must one day face its 40th day.