WE MISS THE OLD UGANDA: WHERE DID THE BANGERS GO?

BY SSEGAWA HUZAIRU IBRAHIM/ Wednesday, 19th August 2026

There was a time when a Ugandan artist announcing new music was an actual event.

You didn’t need a dramatic TikTok. You didn’t need a scandal. You didn’t need an Instagram feud, a cryptic post, or a three-minute video explaining why somebody had offended somebody else.

You just needed the music.

An artist would say, “I’m dropping a song,” and suddenly we were waiting. We were excited. We were counting down. And when that song finally arrived, it wasn’t just something you listened to for three days before TikTok found another sound. It became part of your life.Ugandan music used to give us banger after banger after banger.

Sheebah Karungi could release a song today and Winnie Nwagi could give us another one tomorrow, and somehow we would still be listening to both months later. Sometimes years later. These weren’t songs that existed simply to provide background noise for a dance challenge. They became memories.

Now?

We are tired.

Because these days, some of the biggest “hits” aren’t even songs.They’re dramatic TikToks.

Someone is fighting someone. Someone has exposed someone. Someone is crying. Someone is responding to an interview. Someone has a problem with someone’s manager. Someone has apparently unfollowed someone.And somehow, that is becoming the entertainment.

But where is the music?

We have millions of artists. New musicians appear every other week. Everybody has a microphone, a music video and a social-media strategy. Yet somehow, the industry can feel quieter than it ever did.And before somebody says, “You people don’t support Ugandan artists,” let me stop you right there.

Yes, fans have a responsibility to support musicians. But musicians also have a responsibility to give their fans something worth supporting.You cannot blame the audience for getting tired of waiting.

Drama sells. Of course it does. Controversy gets clicks. A fight will trend faster than a new single. A celebrity argument can generate more engagement than a beautifully produced song.

But here’s the thing:Your music can sell better.

We need the artists we grew up knowing.

Where is Caesarous, who gave us Dangerous? That song wasn’t merely a song. It became a generational memory. Where is Quex, the artist who gave us another banger and then seemed to disappear from the conversation?Chameleon, bebe cool, fille, and the rest where are you?

Where are the people who made us fall in love with Ugandan music in the first place?

And this isn’t about pretending the past was perfect. It wasn’t. Every generation has its problems. Every era had songs that disappeared after two weeks. But there was something about that period that made Ugandan music feel like an industry rather than a collection of viral moments.Now we have one-hit wonders everywhere.One song explodes.Everyone dances to it.Everyone knows the chorus.The artist trends for two weeks.Then silence.And we move on.

We shouldn’t have to keep rediscovering our musicians every time TikTok needs a new sound.

And then there is another conversation we need to have: 

our legends have gone into politics.

Before anyone misunderstands me or tries to bite. Hold your fangs, politics matters. Uganda matters. Representation matters. Artists have every right to enter politics, speak about political issues and fight for causes they believe in.But sometimes, as fans, we just want our musicians back.We loved you because of the music.

We sang your songs. We danced to your music. We bought into the dreams you sold us through your art. We made your songs part of weddings, parties, school memories, road trips and heartbreaks.

We didn’t fall in love with you because you could campaign. We fell in love with you because you could make music.So when our favourite musicians disappear into politics, we are allowed to miss the music.Give us both.Be political if you want to be political. Fight for Uganda if you want to fight for Uganda. But please remember that somewhere out there is a fan who is still waiting for another song.

And maybe that’s what we’re really asking for.

Not the old Uganda.The old feeling.

The feeling of waking up and discovering that your favourite artist had released something new.The feeling of hearing a song once and immediately knowing, “Oh, this is going to be massive.”

The feeling of having a playlist where half the songs have been there for years because they were simply too good to delete.The feeling that when Uganda’s music industry made noise, it was because the music was making noise.

We don’t want endless drama.We don’t want musicians fighting for relevance through social media.We don’t want another TikTok argument disguised as entertainment.We want the bangers back.

Bring us the Sheebahs. Bring us the Winnies. Bring us the Caesarouses. Bring us the Quexes. Bring back our people please. Bring back the artists who disappeared after giving us one unforgettable song. Bring back the hunger. Bring back the creativity. Bring back the music that made us proud to say, “This is Ugandan.”

Because Uganda still has talent.

Uganda still has voices.Uganda still has producers, songwriters, musicians and performers capable of making incredible music.

What we are missing is that feeling that something big is coming.

So, dear Ugandan musicians, we’re not asking you to leave TikTok.We’re not asking you to stop having personalities.We’re not asking you to stop making money.We’re simply asking:

Can you give us a song we will still be singing five years from now?Because we miss the old Uganda.And more than anything…we miss the bangers.