KAMPALA — Ugandans on Monday evening gathered across rooftops, balconies, unfinished arcades, and pothole-side viewing points to witness what had been advertised as a historic drone spectacle ahead of President Yoweri Museveni’s swearing-in ceremony.
What many eventually witnessed instead was perhaps the greatest national test of patience since buffering circles were introduced to Ugandan internet users.
The government had promised a dazzling 14-minute drone and fireworks experience over Kampala skies ahead of Tuesday’s inauguration ceremony.
Social media posters screamed with excitement, television stations urged citizens to “keep their eyes on the skies,” and entire families skipped evening gossip sessions believing they were about to watch Uganda enter the future.
And indeed, Uganda entered the future — briefly — before the future apparently lost network.
By 8pm, Kampala resembled a city awaiting alien invasion. People parked cars along roadsides. Others climbed boda bodas for elevation. Some citizens even charged their Tecno phones to 100% for the first time this year.
Then the drones appeared.
For approximately seven seconds.
A few blinking lights floated uncertainly in the sky like confused mosquitoes looking for blood. Then they rearranged themselves into shapes that left Ugandans debating whether they were seeing a crested crane, a Rolex, or simply the suffering of taxpayers visualized in LED form.

One X user had confidently posted earlier: “If it’s not a drone show, I’m going to beat up everyone at NRM Secretariat.” By 8:15pm, many online users appeared ready to join him emotionally.
Another user asked the most important question of the night: “Has there been a drone show in Uganda before?” The answer from many viewers seemed to be: “There still hasn’t.”
Kampala residents described scenes of mass confusion as people stared into empty skies waiting for “Phase Two” of the show, only to realize Phase One may have been the entire production.
In some areas, people reportedly clapped prematurely, believing the drones were merely warming up. Others thought UEDCL had interrupted the choreography. A few patriotic citizens defended the performance, arguing the drones were simply expressing Uganda’s economic realities artistically.
“The formation looked like loading… loading… loading…” complained one viewer in Ntinda.
Another claimed the drones formed the letters NRM Logo for a few seconds before wind, gravity and perhaps disappointment carried them elsewhere.
Several residents admitted they spent more time searching for the drones than actually watching them.
“It felt like hide-and-seek with government expenditure,” said a university student who had climbed onto a hostel rooftop armed with binoculars and hope.
The event quickly became a national comedy festival online.
Memes flooded X within minutes. Some users compared the show to school science projects powered by dry cells bought from downtown Kampala. Others said the drones looked frightened, as if they too had not been paid allowances.
One viral joke claimed the drones were operating on a supplementary budget.
Another user posted: “The drones have also joined the struggle for economic transformation.”
Meanwhile, conspiracy theorists emerged immediately, as they always do in Uganda whenever technology behaves strangely. Some blamed rain. Others blamed Chinese software. A few suspected the drones were intimidated by Kampala airspace after spotting military helicopters nearby.
Critics also questioned whether too much hype had been poured into the event.
Government-aligned pages had heavily promoted the spectacle for days, describing it almost like the Olympics opening ceremony mixed with Wakanda technology. Citizens expected Dubai. What many feel they received was “Kalerwe with batteries.”
One man in Kawempe reportedly told friends not to disturb him because he was “going to witness history.” By 9pm, he was instead watching TikTok videos mocking the same history.
Still, officials insist the event was part of a grand celebration leading into Tuesday’s swearing-in ceremony at Kololo Independence Grounds. And to be fair, the drones did achieve one undeniable national objective: unity.
For one glorious evening, Ugandans of all political affiliations came together online to ask the same question:
“That was it?”
Even more dramatic was a bizarre side-story involving a media personality who accused unnamed officials of stealing his drone-show concept and implementing it without compensation. Many online users jokingly responded that whoever stole the idea should perhaps return it immediately.
As the city prepares for the actual swearing-in ceremony tomorrow, many Ugandans are now lowering expectations to safer levels.
Some citizens say they will only believe tomorrow’s events after seeing them physically happen.
Others remain optimistic that perhaps tonight was only a rehearsal and the real drones are still charging somewhere in Nakasero.
By late evening, Kampala had largely returned to normal. Traffic resumed. Roasted maize sellers continued business. And the drones themselves disappeared quietly into the night, possibly to avoid reading Ugandan comments online.
But one thing is certain: long after the speeches, military parades and inauguration suits are forgotten, Ugandans will always remember the night Kampala collectively stared into the sky searching for 14 minutes of technology… and received what felt like a Bluetooth notification instead.












