One member admitted, another turned away—the silence explains everything
At Entebbe airport, Martha Karua — former Kenyan justice minister and seasoned defender of political causes — was turned away before she could reach the courtroom where opposition leader Kizza Besigye awaits trial on treason charges. No explanation was offered, though none was truly needed: her colleague, traveling for the same purpose, passed through without incident. The silence of Uganda's authorities speaks in a language older than law, one that asks whether the right to a defense is truly portable across borders, or whether it dissolves at the edge of political inconvenience.
- Martha Karua was declared persona non grata at Entebbe airport and sent back to Kenya, while her fellow Kenyan lawyer on the same legal mission was waved through — a selective exclusion that defies neutral explanation.
- Kizza Besigye, forcibly abducted from Kenya in late 2024, remains imprisoned on treason charges, his case now shadowed by the systematic removal of those trying to defend him.
- Ugandan lawyer Erias Lukwago, Karua's counterpart on the defense team, was arrested at his home, appeared in court visibly weakened, and was remanded to prison on charges of failing to report treason.
- Karua is invoking her East African Community citizenship rights, arguing the denial was unlawful — but principle and power are not always the same thing in this region.
- A pattern is hardening: Karua was previously deported from Tanzania for similar legal work, and her initial application to practice in Uganda was rejected — each episode a brick in a wall being built around opposition defense across East Africa.
Martha Karua arrived at Entebbe airport with a straightforward professional purpose: to join the legal defense of Kizza Besigye, an opposition leader imprisoned in Uganda since late 2024 after being forcibly returned from Kenya. Immigration officials told her she was persona non grata and sent her home.
What made the moment difficult to dismiss as routine was who traveled beside her. Charles Kanjama, president of Kenya's Law Society, made the same journey in the same professional capacity for the same case — and was allowed through. Kanjama later noted publicly that it was hard to justify why one member of a defense team should be admitted while another was turned away. Uganda's immigration authorities have offered no explanation.
Back in Nairobi, Karua called the decision unlawful and politically motivated, citing her rights as an East African Community citizen. The argument is sound in principle. In practice, it has not opened any doors. This was not her first encounter with such barriers — Tanzania deported her under similar circumstances while she was attempting to attend a hearing for opposition figure Tundu Lissu, and Uganda had previously rejected her application to practice law there at all.
The legal proceedings moved on without her. Erias Lukwago, her Ugandan counterpart on the defense team, appeared in court days later looking visibly diminished. He had been arrested at his home, charged with failing to report treason in connection with Besigye's case, and was remanded to prison after denying the charges. Besigye himself remains detained, his trial continuing under circumstances that raise hard questions about whether the right to counsel can survive the borders that surround it.
Martha Karua stepped off a plane at Entebbe airport in Uganda with a clear purpose: to join the legal team defending Kizza Besigye, an opposition leader detained on treason charges. She had done this work before, across borders, in difficult circumstances. But this time, immigration officials turned her away. They told her she was persona non grata and ordered her to return to Kenya immediately.
Karua is not a minor figure in East African law. She served as Kenya's justice minister and has built a career defending high-stakes political cases. She was coming to work alongside Erias Lukwago, a Ugandan lawyer, in representing Besigye, who has been imprisoned since late 2024 after being forcibly returned to Uganda from Kenya. The abduction itself had triggered regional outcry—Besigye's aide, Obeid Lutale, was taken at the same time, raising questions about sovereignty and the limits of state power across borders.
What made the airport incident particularly striking was that Charles Kanjama, the president of Kenya's Law Society, traveled with Karua in the same professional capacity for the same case. He was allowed through. Kanjama later posted on social media that the selective denial was difficult to justify. "It is difficult to understand why one member of a defence team should be admitted while another is turned away," he wrote, calling on Ugandan authorities to explain themselves. Uganda's immigration authorities have not responded to requests for comment, and they have offered no public reason for blocking Karua specifically.
Back in Nairobi, Karua characterized the decision as unlawful and politically motivated. She invoked her rights as a citizen of the East African Community, arguing that member states should grant each other's citizens entry for legitimate professional purposes. The argument carries weight in principle, but it collides with the reality of how power operates in the region.
This was not Karua's first encounter with such barriers. A year earlier, Tanzania deported her to prevent her from attending a court hearing for Tundu Lissu, another opposition figure facing treason charges. Even before that, her initial application to practice law in Uganda had been rejected. Each obstacle required navigation, negotiation, or simply persistence. The pattern suggests something larger than bureaucratic friction.
Meanwhile, the legal proceedings continued without her. Lukwago, her Ugandan counterpart, appeared in court the Wednesday after Karua's blocked entry. He looked visibly weakened, having been arrested at his home days before. He faced charges of failing to report treason in connection with Besigye's case. He denied them and was remanded in prison. Besigye remains detained, his trial ongoing, his case now entangled with questions about whether lawyers can move freely across the region to defend him.
The Law Society of Kenya issued a statement supporting legal professionals across East Africa who work "under often difficult circumstances," and it formally asked Ugandan authorities to clarify why Karua had been denied entry. The request sits unanswered. What began as a routine airport denial has become a window into how opposition defense operates in a region where borders, sovereignty, and the right to counsel intersect in ways that are not always clear.
Notable Quotes
It is difficult to understand why one member of a defence team should be admitted while another is turned away.— Charles Kanjama, Kenya Law Society President
Karua characterized the decision as unlawful and politically motivated, citing her rights as an East African Community citizen.— Martha Karua
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why would Uganda block one lawyer but allow another from the same team through the same airport on the same day?
That's the question everyone's asking. On its face, it makes no sense—unless the point isn't about procedure. If you want to obstruct a defense, blocking the lead counsel while letting her colleague through sends a message without having to explain anything.
But Karua is a former justice minister. She has standing. Doesn't that matter?
It should. But standing and power aren't the same thing. She's defending someone the government views as a threat. Her credentials actually make her more dangerous to them, not less.
She says it's politically motivated. Can she prove that?
How do you prove motivation when no one gives you a reason? Uganda hasn't said why she was blocked. That silence is part of the strategy. It's not illegal on its face—it's just a denial at the border. Hard to challenge in court when there's no stated basis to challenge.
This happened to her in Tanzania too, with a different opposition case.
Right. Which suggests it's not random. If you're a lawyer willing to take on these cases, you start to understand that certain borders become conditional. Your profession doesn't protect you the way it should.
What happens to Besigye's defense now?
It continues, but weakened. Lukwago is in prison. Karua can't be there. The team is fractured. That's the practical effect, whether or not anyone admits the intention.