When Robert Ssentamu Kyagulanyi, better known as Bobi Wine vowed to scrap the Parish Development Model (PDM) if elected president, many dismissed his statement as political rhetoric. But a closer look at Uganda’s poverty-alleviation programmes over the years shows that he may actually be right.
Launched with great fanfare, the PDM was marketed as the long-awaited answer to Uganda’s persistent poverty, allocating Shs100 million to each parish to fund local enterprises.
Yet, barely months after its rollout, the scheme has been hit by familiar scandals. Forexample, according to a government newspaper, New Vision report published on September 20, 2022, more than Shs2.16 billion was unaccounted for in just 33 districts. In some areas such as Kitgum and Nwoya hundreds of millions vanished before a single farmer could benefit.
This pattern is not new. It echoes the story of Entandikwa, Bonabagawale, NAADS, the Youth Livelihood Programme, Emyooga and Operation Wealth Creation. Each was launched as a flagship anti-poverty initiative but ended up as a political fund riddled with corruption, duplication, and poor supervision. In the end, the poor remained poor while politically connected officials enriched themselves.
The fundamental flaw in Uganda’s anti-poverty strategy is the belief that poverty can be solved by handing out cash. Decades of similar experiments have proved otherwise. Distributing money without addressing the real barriers, poor infrastructure, lack of markets, absence of technical support, simply fuels dependency, waste, and patronage.
If these programmes truly worked, Uganda would not be importing tomatoes, onions, rice and potatoes from Kenya and Tanzania. Farmers in Butaleja, who may receive Shs1 million under PDM, often find themselves unable to sell their produce at a better price because local markets are flooded with cheaper imports. The result is frustration not empowerment.
Money does not grow agriculture—systems do. What farmers need are irrigation networks, storage facilities, cooperative support and predictable markets not envelopes of cash tied to election seasons.
Across the border, Kenya and Tanzania have taken a more practical route. In Kenya, the government supports production through subsidised fertilizers, improved seeds and county-level agricultural extension services.
Farmers receive training, supervision, and access to affordable credit through the Agricultural Finance Corporation which works with cooperatives rather than politicians. The results are visible in improved yields and reduced maize imports.
Tanzania, on the other hand has built its agricultural sector on cooperatives and guaranteed markets. The Tanzania Agricultural Development Bank finances production and processing while the Warehouse Receipt System helps farmers store produce and access fair prices. The government also actively regulates imports to protect local farmers from unfair competition. Both countries show that agriculture thrives on structure not on free cash.
Uganda should draw lessons from these models and shift from populist schemes to long-term investments. The government must prioritise rural infrastructure such as roads, irrigation and storage facilities.
It should strengthen cooperatives to give farmers bargaining power, revive agricultural extension services and enforce policies that protect Ugandan farmers from being undercut by cheap imports. Sustainable agricultural financing should focus on production-based credit, not open-ended handouts.
Bobi Wine’s call to scrap the PDM is not anti-development. It is a call for accountability, efficiency and system reform. Uganda’s endless cycle of handout programmes has turned poverty into a political industry, enriching the few at the expense of the many.
Until the government abandons this approach and builds structures that help farmers produce, compete and thrive, every new programme will simply be another old story dressed in a new acronym.
The Parish Development Model may be new in name, but in practice, it is Operation Wealth Creation 2.0—and Bobi Wine is right to say it must go.
