The recent Ugandan court decision to remove British colonial monuments and rename streets in Kampala represents a major step to decolonise resistance, directly challenging the enduring influence of imperialist histories in public spaces. This ruling is a victory for campaigners who have spent five years advocating for these changes. Beyond altering city landmarks, it confronts the deep-rooted colonial structures that persist in knowledge, culture, and governance. True decolonisation, in my view, must go beyond political independence to reshape how societies acknowledge and portray their histories.
I disagree with Nicholas Opiyo’s argument that colonial monuments should remain as “a constant reminder of our past.” While erasing history and decolonise can sometimes obscure past injustices, keeping these monuments risks upholding colonial power under the guise of remembrance.
By removing statues and renaming streets, Uganda is asserting its right to shape its historical and cultural identity rather than continuing to honor figures linked to imperialism, exploitation, and violence. This move aligns with global decolonial efforts, where former colonies reassess public symbols that legitimise colonial rule. Scholars such as Walter Mignolo and Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o argue that real decolonisation requires dismantling colonial narratives in how history is remembered.
Ultimately, this ruling to decolonise helps Uganda reclaim control over its historical narrative, replacing imposed colonial commemorations with a heritage that upholds indigenous dignity and sovereignty.
This decision is not just about removing physical symbols of colonialism but about reclaiming agency over historical narratives. Public monuments and street names shape collective memory, influencing how societies understand their past. By eliminating references to colonial figures, Uganda is making a clear statement that its national identity will not be defined by its colonial oppressors but by its own people, culture, and history.
This move also resonates with similar efforts worldwide. Across Africa, Asia, and the Caribbean, countries are reevaluating colonial-era relics in public spaces. For example, South Africa has seen heated debates over statues of Cecil Rhodes, while in the Caribbean, former British colonies are reconsidering their ties to the monarchy. In Europe, cities like Brussels have begun removing monuments to figures such as King Leopold II, acknowledging the brutality of colonial rule.
Critics argue that such actions erase history, but history is not merely about preserving artifacts—it is about interpretation and perspective. Maintaining monuments that glorify colonial figures risks perpetuating their dominance in public consciousness. Instead, decolonisation calls for history to be remembered in ways that center indigenous voices, experiences, and resistance.
The Ugandan ruling, therefore, is not just symbolic; it is a powerful act of historical correction. It invites a broader conversation on how nations can honor their past while breaking free from colonial legacies. By choosing which histories to celebrate in public spaces, Uganda and other former colonies are actively shaping a future that reflects their sovereignty, resilience, and cultural pride.
