The story that is John Patrick Amama Mbabazi's role in the Temangalo scandal is a truly intriguing one.

Not just because one of his alleged proxies, Buyaga MP Barnabas Tinkasiimire, once predicted that the Temangalo scandal will get bloody along the way, but also because it is becoming increasingly apparent that Security Minister Mbabazi is not ready to go down without a memorable fight.

Mr Mbabazi has already lost the war, but he hopes to win the last battle. It is difficult to see how he can win it, but it is easy to figure out how he will lose more ground.

Already, Mr Mbabazi has, unwittingly or not, succeeded in weaving all Temangalo-related emotion around his neck, effectively turning the inquiry into an investigation of his character. His misguided meetings with some of the lawmakers who investigated him for wrongdoing have earned him a sneaky reputation, but they probably have done little to improve his popularity among his fellow lawmakers.

Mr Mbabazi says he never appeared before the probe as a suspected offender, yet he is single-handedly turning himself into arch villain in the alleged mismanagement of workers' savings. Rujumbura MP Jim Muhwezi, who famously raised the anti-Mbabazi rhetoric after the scandal was first reported, has been silent for weeks now.

Yet the political furore over Temangalo survives, propelled by a strong anti-Mbabazi sentiment in the House and inspired by the minister's own machinations to save his neck. Put simply, Mbabazi has become his own Muhwezi. A reliable source told me that one supposedly pro-Mbabazi lawmaker reluctantly accepted to attend one of the minister's nightly meetings just so he would not be branded a rebel. The attitude behind such a decision suggests that some NRM lawmakers do not love Mr Mbabazi as much as they love the party.

Mr Mbabazi's strategy has been to marry his troubles with the future of the ruling party, a strategy that may have been successful with President Museveni. But the story may be tragically different with his fellow lawmakers. Saturday Monitor, citing the results of a random survey of 124 lawmakers, reported on October 25 that Mr Mbabazi, if indicted by the official report, was not likely to survive a censure motion.

Throughout his career, Mr Mbabazi has faced the very serious allegation that he is aloof and cold not just to his colleagues but even to ordinary folks who seek audience with him. It has not helped matters that, during the unravelling of the Temangalo scandal, Mr Mbabazi seemed loyal only to his sense of invincibility, what some might call arrogance.

Of course, it is ironic that Mr Mbabazi was somehow elected to the powerful post of NRM secretary general, a job that requires affability in doses that his detractors say he does not possess. Mr Mbabazi's election to that post, however, may have had more to do with his supposed closeness to President Museveni than with his own popularity among delegates.

Truth be told, Mr Mbabazi is probably the most unpopular figure within his own party. The Temangalo scandal has had the effect of making him the most polarising, a dubious distinction for a man who had avoided public scandal and was sometimes called 'Mr Clean'. Now, as his fellow NRM MPs ponder a censure motion that could take Mr Mbabazi into the realms of 'political garbage' where he would no doubt have good company, his political future rests on whether MPs hate him enough to deliver the knockout blow, not whether they treasure him enough to let him die another day.

Kyabazinga contest is really economic

The process of electing a new Kyabazinga of Busoga generated some of the most farcical schemes to have come out of our cultural institutions. Reports said that there was even a debate on whether to elect the new Kyabazinga by asking the delegates to line up behind their preferred candidates. That is the kind of proposal that irritates even secondary school students!

The drama that has surrounded the selection of the next Kyabazinga helps feed a cynicism that some people have of their cultural leaders, some of whom are viewed within their communities as impostors or clowns. I know it because I spent time talking to some of our cultural leaders, an enriching experience that gave me insight into why some still have credibility problems.

What is going on in Busoga is not just a power struggle among rival clans; it is also the manifestation of a feeling among Busoga's power brokers that the Kyabazingaship is not a truly cultural journey. It is political. And it is economic. That is essentially why a cultural issue ended up in the Constitutional Court, which unanimously ruled on Thursday that the election cannot be conducted until there is a ruling on a petition that seeks a nullification of the procedure used to select the Kyabazinga. The Constitutional Court panel ruled that the planned elections will "not be [held] in accordance with the cultural norms and traditions of the people of Busoga".

A spokesman for the cultural institution was openly defiant. And as he told the press would happen, the election went ahead on Friday with one Edward Collumbus Wambuzi getting elected.

NSSF-Alcon suit must remain in court

In the months since the Temangalo scandal was brought into the public domain, a very important story has been brewing. Daily Monitor reported on August 25 that the National Social Security Fund was planning to reach an out-of-court settlement with Alcon International, the construction firm whose contract to build Workers' House was terminated for doing shoddy work.

In recent times, it has emerged that the NSSF is ready to part with at least Shs31 billion to Alcon and its lawyers, in disregard of assurances by the Fund's retained lawyer that he can win the case in court. It is unclear why NSSF would rush to pay Alcon, whose directors, according to a recent report, are mysterious. But there are unconfirmed suggestions that a senior minister and a prominent Kampala lawyer may have bought out the original directors of Alcon, which in 2001 won a breach-of-contract case in the High Court.

The firm was awarded $8.9 million, setting off the chain of legal battles that NSSF now wants to end by settling the matter out of court. As with many other things to do with NSSF, the Alcon case has not been handled transparently; Mr Edward Gaamuwa, the NSSF chairman, was very hostile when I asked him whether the Fund was about to pay Alcon. Mr Gaamuwa provided no useful information.

There is something suspicious. As several civil society organisations have said, the Alcon-NSSF case should probably be settled in court, not through backroom deals whose logic is still a myth.