Following the conclusion of Uganda’s 2026 General Elections and what authorities described as a “comprehensive security review,” the Communications Commission has directed the restoration of public internet access across the country, effective immediately.
The temporary restriction, which lasted approximately 100 hours from January 13 to January 17-18, was implemented to curb misinformation, prevent electoral interference, and reduce the risk of incitement during what the government termed a “sensitive election period,” while ensuring essential services remained operational.
As connectivity resumes—albeit partially, with social media reportedly still blocked in some areas—authorities are emphasizing responsible internet use to support learning, business, and national cohesion, urging citizens to avoid spreading false information or engaging in disruptive activity. The Commission expressed appreciation to the public for their patience, telecom operators for compliance, and the media for responsible reporting during the outage.
But beneath this measured official statement lies a far more complex story—one that reveals the fragility of Africa’s digital infrastructure, the weaponization of connectivity, and the billions of dollars at stake when governments flip the kill switch on the internet.
The Anatomy of a Digital Blackout
On January 13, 2026, at 6:00 PM local time, the Uganda Communications Commission (UCC) ordered all licensed Mobile Network Operators (MNOs) and Internet Service Providers (ISPs) to suspend public internet access, citing the need to mitigate “misinformation, disinformation, electoral fraud, and related risks.”
The directive blocked:
- Social media platforms (Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, WhatsApp, TikTok)
- Web browsing
- Video streaming services
- Personal email services
- Messaging applications
- Outbound data roaming services to One Network Area countries
Exemptions were carved out for critical infrastructure:
- Hospital systems
- Banking networks
- Tax platforms
- Utilities
- The Electoral Commission portal
Network monitoring services like NetBlocks, Cloudflare Radar, and Internet Outage Detection Analysis confirmed a nation-scale disruption to internet connectivity, with Uganda effectively vanishing from large portions of the global internet.
For nearly four days, 45 million Ugandans—including the country’s vibrant tech startup ecosystem, digital entrepreneurs, and over 27 million internet users—were cut off from the digital economy. Mobile money services, which process billions of shillings daily, ground to a halt. E-commerce platforms went dark. Remote workers couldn’t access systems. Students preparing for exams lost access to online resources.
The shutdown wasn’t Uganda’s first rodeo. During the 2021 elections, authorities implemented a five-day internet blackout that resulted in billions of shillings in economic losses. Facebook remains banned in Uganda since 2021—a restriction that has lasted over four years.
This time, however, the stakes were higher. Uganda’s digital economy has matured significantly since 2021. Internet penetration has reached 60% of the population, with over 27 million internet subscriptions. The country hosts a growing startup ecosystem, particularly in fintech and agritech. Mobile money is deeply woven into daily life—from paying for matatus to sending remittances to purchasing airtime.
The Economic Toll: Billions Lost in 100 Hours
While official figures on the economic impact are still emerging, early estimates paint a devastating picture.
Small businesses in Kampala’s markets couldn’t process digital payments. Traders who rely on mobile money for daily transactions were forced back to cash-only operations—assuming they had cash on hand. Many didn’t.
According to local reporting, businesses that depend on internet connectivity—from digital marketing agencies to software development shops to e-commerce platforms—experienced complete operational paralysis. For Uganda’s growing tech startup sector, which raised millions in venture capital over the past two years, four days offline meant:
- Disrupted SaaS platforms: Software-as-a-Service companies serving customers across East Africa couldn’t deliver services or provide support
- Frozen fintech operations: Digital lending platforms, payment processors, and mobile money integrations stopped functioning
- Halted supply chains: Logistics and delivery platforms relying on real-time tracking and communication went blind
- Lost investment opportunities: Startup founders in active fundraising couldn’t communicate with investors or complete due diligence processes
The human cost extended beyond business. Ugandans studying abroad couldn’t reach family. Diaspora communities couldn’t send urgent remittances. Healthcare workers in rural areas relying on telemedicine platforms were isolated. University students preparing for final exams lost access to digital libraries and online learning platforms.
The Politics Behind the Shutdown
The internet blackout cannot be separated from its political context.
President Yoweri Museveni, 81, was seeking his seventh term after 40 years in power. His main challenger, 43-year-old pop star-turned-politician Bobi Wine (Robert Kyagulanyi), represented a youthful opposition movement that had mobilized heavily on social media.
International observers and rights organizations painted a grim picture of the pre-election environment:
- At least 32 journalists were assaulted or intimidated during campaign coverage
- Opposition supporters faced harassment, arbitrary arrests, and intimidation
- Civil society organizations had their permits suspended, with at least 10 NGOs ordered to cease operations indefinitely
- Human rights activist Sarah Bireete was arrested on December 30, 2025
- Biometric voting machines malfunctioned across multiple polling stations—failures many attributed to the internet blackout affecting verification systems
The shutdown timing was strategic. By cutting connectivity two days before polling, authorities ensured:
- Opposition coordination was disrupted at the critical final campaign push
- Real-time documentation of electoral irregularities was impossible
- International observers couldn’t easily communicate findings
- Citizens couldn’t access independent news sources or fact-check official narratives
When results were announced on January 17, Museveni had secured 71.6% of the vote to Bobi Wine’s 24.7%—a landslide that the opposition immediately rejected as fraudulent.
Internet service resumed within hours of the official result declaration. The timing was not coincidental.
Bobi Wine claimed he escaped a military raid on his home, with his wife and family remaining under house arrest. Scattered protests erupted in Kampala suburbs, met with tear gas and arrests.
The Global Condemnation
The shutdown drew sharp criticism from international human rights organizations, regional bodies, and technology advocates worldwide.
Amnesty International’s East and Southern Africa Director Tigere Chagutah called the move “a brazen attack on the right to freedom of expression” and condemned it as “inherently disproportionate under international human rights law.”
Human Rights Watch stated unequivocally: “Blanket internet shutdowns during elections severely restrict communication and access to information at a critical moment for democracy… They fail the tests of legality, necessity, and proportionality and ‘can never be justified’ according to international human rights law.”
The African Commission on Human and Peoples’ Rights issued a detailed press release condemning the shutdown as a violation of Article 9 of the African Charter on Human and Peoples’ Rights, which guarantees the right to receive information and express opinions.
Regional bodies including the African Union and East African Community observers criticized the military’s involvement in the electoral process and the internet shutdown for limiting “access to information, freedom of association, curtailing economic activities… creating suspicion and mistrust on the electoral process.”
Access Now, a global digital rights organization, noted that “around the world, governments deploy internet shutdowns to interfere with election outcomes and undermine democratic participation.”
Even as Uganda’s government cited security concerns, the international consensus was clear: the shutdown violated fundamental rights and undermined democratic processes.
The Disinformation and the Submarine Cable Story
Perhaps the most bizarre twist came from Uganda’s Minister of State for Youth and Children Affairs, Balaam Barugahara, who offered an alternative explanation for the blackout on January 17.
According to Barugahara: “The latest I’m getting from my friends in Mombasa is that a ship was passing by, it hit an internet cable in two, so they are trying to locate the other piece to connect it.”
He elaborated: “Our people who work in that telecom sector, we know that the cable was affected, and they are restoring it, they are fixing it. You know, the problem with you young people, you’re wasting a lot of time on TikTok, instead of listening to the message of the president.”
The story was immediately disputed. No official confirmation came from the UCC or Kenyan authorities regarding any ship incident or submarine cable damage. While submarine cable faults have affected East African internet in the past, the current blackout followed the UCC’s official directive—complete with reference number ECO/436—issued two days before the election.
The submarine cable story appeared to be a clumsy attempt to reframe a deliberate government action as an unfortunate technical accident. The international tech community wasn’t buying it.
What Restoration Actually Means
When authorities announced internet restoration on January 17-18, celebrations were muted.
Users reported that while general internet connectivity returned around 11 PM local time on Saturday, social media platforms remained blocked. Some WiFi users, particularly those on certain ISPs like Airtel routers, needed to switch to auto APN settings to reconnect.
Airtel Uganda spokesperson David Birungi confirmed: “We have restored internet so that businesses that rely on internet can resume work,” while noting that the state communications regulator had ordered social media to remain shut down.
This partial restoration reveals the granular control governments now exercise over digital infrastructure. It’s not binary—on or off. It’s surgical. Allow banking, block Twitter. Enable business emails, silence Facebook. Restore connectivity for commerce, maintain censorship for speech.
The restoration timing—after election results were announced, after international attention had peaked, after the strategic political moment had passed—underscored what critics had argued all along: this was never about security. It was about control.
The Starlink Question
Adding another layer to Uganda’s internet control efforts, authorities also targeted Elon Musk’s Starlink satellite internet service.
Uganda had previously ordered Starlink to halt operations and deactivate terminals after the company allegedly failed to meet pre-licensing requirements. All Starlink terminals in the country were disabled as of January 1, 2026—conveniently two weeks before the election.
The timing raised eyebrows. Starlink represents the kind of decentralized, satellite-based connectivity that’s extremely difficult for governments to control. Unlike terrestrial ISPs that can be compelled to comply with shutdown orders, satellite internet operates beyond traditional regulatory frameworks.
By neutralizing Starlink before the election, Ugandan authorities closed a potential loophole that could have allowed tech-savvy citizens, journalists, and opposition figures to maintain connectivity during the shutdown.
The move mirrors tactics seen in Iran, where the government has reportedly used military-grade GPS jammers to cut satellite internet performance by as much as 80% in parts of the country.
The Pattern: Africa’s Internet Shutdown Problem
Uganda’s 2026 shutdown is part of a troubling regional and continental pattern.
According to Access Now’s data, African governments have repeatedly deployed internet shutdowns during politically sensitive moments:
- Uganda 2016: Internet restrictions during presidential elections
- Uganda 2021: Five-day internet blackout during elections; Facebook ban remains in effect
- Tanzania 2025: State violence against opposition during recent elections
- Ethiopia: Multiple regional shutdowns during civil conflict in Tigray and Oromia
- Sudan: Internet blackouts during political transitions and military coups
- Chad, Gabon, Togo, Zimbabwe, DRC: All have implemented shutdowns during elections or protests
The playbook is consistent:
- Cite national security, misinformation, or public order concerns
- Order telecom operators to comply with shutdown directives
- Implement blackout during politically sensitive period
- Restore connectivity after critical moment passes
- Face international condemnation but minimal consequences
The problem is worsening. As African nations rapidly digitize and internet penetration grows, shutdowns affect more people, cause greater economic damage, and represent more blatant violations of fundamental rights.
The Economic Argument Against Shutdowns
Beyond the human rights violations, internet shutdowns make terrible economic sense—even for the governments implementing them.
Uganda’s own Ministry of ICT and National Guidance stated in early January that Uganda’s digital space has grown significantly, with more than 27 million internet subscriptions and internet access reaching an estimated 60% of the population. The ministry acknowledged that “digital platforms are a primary source of information for many citizens, especially during elections.”
Yet by shutting down the internet, the government directly undermined:
1. Tax Revenue: Digital businesses can’t operate, meaning they can’t generate VAT, income tax, or corporate tax revenue. E-commerce transactions halt. Digital service exports cease.
2. Foreign Investment: International investors watching a government arbitrarily shut down internet access for political purposes will think twice before committing capital to that market. Uganda’s growing tech startup scene—which has attracted millions in VC funding—becomes a harder sell.
3. Regional Competitiveness: As Kenya, Rwanda, Nigeria, South Africa, and Egypt compete to become Africa’s tech hubs, internet shutdowns are disqualifying events. No serious tech company will establish headquarters in a country that might unpredictably go offline.
4. Youth Employment: Uganda has one of the world’s youngest populations. The digital economy represents the best opportunity for youth employment. Shutdowns signal that this sector is unreliable and politically vulnerable.
5. Mobile Money Ecosystem: Mobile money is deeply embedded in Uganda’s economy. Shutdowns affecting these services create cash flow crises for millions of citizens and thousands of businesses.
Studies of previous shutdowns in African countries estimate economic losses in the millions of dollars per day. For Uganda’s 100-hour blackout, the total cost likely exceeds hundreds of millions of shillings—money the government can’t afford to lose.
What This Means for East Africa’s Digital Future
Uganda’s shutdown reverberates beyond its borders.
For Kenya: As East Africa’s undisputed tech leader, Kenya benefits when neighboring countries undermine their own digital ecosystems. Every shutdown in Uganda is an advertisement for Nairobi’s stability. But it’s a pyrrhic victory—regional instability and digital fragmentation hurt everyone.
For Rwanda: Kigali has positioned itself as Africa’s Singapore—a small, efficient, digitally advanced nation punching above its weight. Uganda’s chaos reinforces Rwanda’s stability narrative but also highlights the fragility of the regional digital economy.
For Tanzania: Having itself faced criticism for internet controls and restrictions, Tanzania now watches Uganda face international condemnation. The question is whether Tanzanian authorities see this as a cautionary tale or a validated playbook.
For the East African Community: The EAC is supposed to be moving toward a common market, free movement of people and goods, and economic integration. How does digital economic integration work when member states can unilaterally shut down internet access?
For African Tech Investors: Every shutdown increases risk premiums. Investors evaluating African opportunities now must factor “government internet shutdown risk” into their due diligence. This raises the cost of capital for all startups in affected regions.
For Pan-African Startups: Companies building services across multiple African countries must architect systems to withstand country-level internet outages. This adds complexity and cost.
The Path Forward: Digital Rights as Economic Rights
Uganda’s internet restoration should not be celebrated as a return to normalcy. It’s a temporary reprieve in a pattern of control that will likely repeat.
What’s needed is structural change:
1. Legal Frameworks: African nations need explicit constitutional and legal protections for internet access as a fundamental right. Courts should be empowered to reject shutdown orders that fail strict necessity and proportionality tests.
2. Regional Coordination: The African Union, East African Community, and ECOWAS should establish binding agreements prohibiting internet shutdowns except in the most extreme circumstances (e.g., genuine national security threats, not political convenience).
3. Economic Consequences: International financial institutions, development banks, and bilateral donors should condition aid and investment on commitments to maintain internet connectivity. Hit governments where it hurts—their budgets.
4. Technology Solutions: Satellite internet providers like Starlink should resist government pressure to disable services. Mesh networks and decentralized connectivity solutions should be developed as shutdown-resistant alternatives.
5. Corporate Accountability: Telecom operators and ISPs should push back against unjustified shutdown orders, demand legal basis, and implement the least intrusive restrictions possible. The UN Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights apply.
6. Documentation and Transparency: Civil society, journalists, and tech communities must document shutdowns comprehensively—economic impact, human rights violations, political context—to build the evidence base for change.
7. Youth Mobilization: Uganda’s youngest generation—digital natives who’ve never known life without connectivity—must be at the forefront of demanding their digital rights. This is their economy, their future being switched off.
The Bigger Picture: Democracy and Digital Infrastructure
Uganda’s internet shutdown illuminates a fundamental 21st-century tension: Digital infrastructure is political infrastructure.
Whoever controls the internet controls information flows, economic activity, social organizing, and increasingly, the ability to govern. When authoritarian-leaning governments feel threatened, the internet becomes the first casualty.
But here’s what they miss: You can’t build a modern economy on a foundation you’re willing to destroy whenever it’s politically convenient.
Uganda wants to be a digital economy. It wants tech investment. It wants young entrepreneurs building the next Andela or Flutterwave. It wants mobile money innovation. It wants smart cities and digital government services.
You can’t have those things if every few years you flip the kill switch because you’re afraid of losing an election.
The international community’s condemnation means little if it’s not backed by consequences. Words without action enable the next shutdown, and the next, and the next.
For Uganda’s tech community—the developers, founders, investors, and digital entrepreneurs who’ve built so much over the past decade—this shutdown is a stark reminder: Your greatest risk isn’t competition or funding or talent. It’s your own government.
Conclusion: The Price of Connection, The Cost of Control
As internet access trickles back to Uganda, with social media still restricted and the memories of 100 hours offline still fresh, a question hangs in the air: Was it worth it?
For Museveni’s government, which secured another five-year term, the answer might be yes. The shutdown achieved its tactical objective—limiting opposition coordination and information flows at a critical moment.
But the strategic costs are catastrophic:
- Billions in economic losses
- International condemnation and reputational damage
- Erosion of investor confidence
- Confirmation that Uganda’s digital economy is politically vulnerable
- Deepened distrust between citizens and government
- Violation of fundamental rights enshrined in international law
For Uganda’s 45 million citizens—especially its young, ambitious, digitally connected population—the shutdown was a reminder that their aspirations are hostage to political calculations.
For East Africa’s digital future, this is a fork in the road. Down one path lies a truly connected, integrated digital economy where entrepreneurs can build pan-regional solutions, investors can deploy capital confidently, and citizens can participate fully in the digital age.
Down the other path lies fragmentation, risk, control, and the repeated trauma of going offline whenever democracy gets inconvenient.
Uganda just chose its path. The question now is whether the rest of East Africa—and the continent—will follow.
As connectivity returns and Ugandans reload Twitter, check WhatsApp, and reconnect with the world, one thing is certain: The next shutdown is already being planned somewhere.
And until African tech communities, civil society, regional bodies, and international partners decide that internet shutdowns are absolutely unacceptable—economically disastrous, legally indefensible, and fundamentally incompatible with democracy—the cycle will continue.
Uganda’s internet is back. But make no mistake: it never truly belonged to Ugandans in the first place.
