The acquittal of two company directors in the long-running MTN Uganda fraud case has done more than frustrate a corporate complainant. It has raised an alarming question: Can the rule of law still be trusted in Uganda’s commercial courts?

After nearly a decade of proceedings, substantial forensic evidence, and the recovery of funds from one of the convicted co-accused, the High Court’s decision to absolve the remaining key suspects defies the very logic upon which the judicial process is supposed to rest. It signals to both local businesses and foreign investors that evidence may no longer be enough to secure justice in Uganda.

The ruling is especially troubling in its contradictions. The court accepted that fraud occurred, that funds were illicitly siphoned out of MTN’s accounts using forged invoices, and that the accused directors controlled the very bank account into which those stolen funds were deposited over a three-year period. Yet, the court inexplicably determined this was insufficient to sustain a conviction. The legal gymnastics required to separate control, benefit, and complicity are staggering.

Even more disturbing is the judge’s refusal to lift the corporate veil—a standard and widely accepted legal remedy in fraud cases—despite the direct involvement of the directors in handling the stolen funds. The same judge has used this doctrine in previous rulings, including the 2017 Jeff Lawrence Kiwanuka case. Why not here?

Such inconsistencies are not just technical matters of jurisprudence. They go to the heart of judicial integrity and accountability. When rulings appear to be detached from precedent, logic, or commercial reality, it fosters the impression—fair or not—that justice can be influenced by unseen forces.

This case underscores a deepening crisis of investor confidence in Uganda’s legal system. Corporate investors—especially multinational entities—need to know they can rely on courts to protect their interests, resolve disputes fairly, and punish wrongdoing without bias or interference. When courts fail to rise to this responsibility, the costs are not just legal—they are economic, reputational, and systemic.

MTN Uganda has lost millions of dollars and invested years of legal effort in this matter. The case has consumed judicial resources since 2016, all to result in a ruling that leaves even seasoned legal minds confused. The notion that a case can align with the law in every substantive way—only to collapse on a final technicality—makes a mockery of judicial process.

The DPP has the legal authority—and in our view, the moral duty—to appeal this decision. Doing so is not just about justice for MTN. It is about reaffirming that the rule of law in Uganda cannot be bent, obscured, or ignored when powerful interests are at stake.

As the country seeks to position itself as a destination for foreign investment and private sector growth, this case should serve as a warning: without trust in the courts, economic development is built on sand.