State Censorship, Commercialization Crush Uganda’s Radio Dramas

By Richard Kizza Lugobwa

LONDON. Radio drama, a potent blend of entertainment, education, and cultural preservation, has historically shaped societies worldwide.

In Uganda, its roots trace to the colonial era, when British authorities introduced radio broadcasts in the early 20th century. These early audio plays were not merely entertainment but tools of colonial control, designed to suppress local traditions, propagate foreign values, and mobilize communities for state-driven projects like commercial farming and bulungi bwansi (communal labor).

Post-independence in 1962, radio dramas retained their significance, evolving into a medium for nation-building under Uganda’s fledgling government. Despite the advent of television, radio’s affordability and reach ensured its dominance, particularly through the state-owned Radio Uganda (now the Uganda Broadcasting Corporation- UBC Radio), which monopolized airwaves until the 1990s.

For over three decades, Radio Uganda’s dramas, broadcast in languages like Luganda, Runyakitara, and Luo, became a cultural cornerstone. They addressed themes ranging from public health and civic duty to political awareness, resonating deeply with rural and urban audiences alike.

Among the most iconic was W’okulira (“He Who Cries”), written by Wycliffe Kiyingi. Airing for 20 years, it featured Kadiidi a witty everyman whose struggles and triumphs mirrored those of ordinary Ugandans. The show’s blend of humor and social commentary made it a national treasure, influencing attitudes on issues like HIV/AIDS prevention, gender roles, and civic responsibility.

The 1990s saw a seismic shift as Uganda liberalized its media landscape, allowing private radio stations like Capital FM, Radio Sanyu, CBS FM, Radio Simba, Radio One, and Kaboozi Ku Bbiri to emerge. These stations infused fresh energy into radio drama, producing locally resonant content.

For instance, Radio Simba’s Kooti Lutikko (a courtroom political satire) and CBS FM’s Akiika Embuga (a socio-political allegory) tackled corruption, governance, and cultural erosion, often with biting humor. These dramas cultivated loyal followings, bridging generational divides and sparking public discourse.

However, their success also drew scrutiny, particularly as Uganda’s political climate grew tense under President Museveni’s autocratic National Resistance Movement (NRM) regime.

By the mid-2000s, rising public dissatisfaction with the NRM government triggered a crackdown on media freedom. The Uganda Communications Commission (UCC), the state regulator, enforced draconian censorship laws, targeting content deemed “subversive” or critical of authorities.

Radio dramas, with their subtle allegories and mass appeal, were seen as threats. Stations faced fines, temporary closures, or license revocations if dramas allegedly “incited” audiences to demand accountability or protest injustices. For instance, CBS FM was shut down in 2009 after airing content linked to the 2009 Buganda Kingdom unrest, sending shockwaves through the industry.

Fearing financial ruin, private stations—dependent on advertising revenue—began phasing out dramas. Many replaced them with music, call-in shows, or neutral programming that avoided political themes. The loss of this creative space stifled not only artistic expression but also a vital channel for grassroots education.

By the 2010s, radio dramas had dwindled to sporadic NGO-sponsored campaigns, such as health initiatives or voter education drives, which rarely lasted beyond two years due to funding cycles.

Today, radio dramas survive primarily online, with activists and artists uploading politically charged audio plays to platforms like YouTube, Tik Tok and Facebook. Series like Tomorrow is Now, Gasimbagane ne Government (“Let Me Chat with the Government”) critique corruption and advocate for democratic reform.

However, internet access—hampered by high data costs and limited infrastructure—remains a luxury for most Ugandans, particularly in rural areas where radio once thrived.

Despite their decline, radio dramas’ legacy endures. They demonstrated the power of storytelling to unify, educate, and challenge power structures—a potential that persists even in a fractured media landscape.

Their demise underscores broader struggles: the tension between art and authoritarianism, the commodification of public airwaves, and the unmet promise of digital alternatives.

For Uganda to revive this medium, systemic reforms—from loosening censorship to investing in affordable internet—are essential. Until then, the echoes of Kadiidi and Kooti Lutikko serve as reminders of what was lost, and what could still be regained.