Uganda Cranes’ AFCON 2025 campaign was a sobering and deeply disappointing return to the continental stage, especially considering that our previous appearance had come six years earlier.
In trying to make sense of what went wrong, several explanations immediately come to mind—chief among them the inexperience within the squad. Yet to stop there would be to evade the deeper, long-standing issues that continue to resurface whenever Uganda tests itself at the highest level.
These are structural problems, not coincidences, and unless confronted honestly, they will keep haunting us.
What follows is an attempt to unpack what went wrong, what transpired during this campaign, and what the way forward ought to be.
1. Qualification: A False Comfort
It is time we told ourselves the truth: qualifying for AFCON is no longer the achievement it once was. With the expansion to 24 teams, any country that prepares reasonably well now stands a realistic chance of qualification. As such, qualification should not be treated as proof of strength or progress, but rather as the beginning of serious work—an opportunity to tighten systems, build cohesion, and grow competitively.
Unfortunately, the unfolding of events suggested a dangerous sense of comfort. It felt as though qualification itself had been mistaken for success, as if simply being present was sufficient preparation to compete with Africa’s elite. AFCON, however, does not reward comfort—it punishes it.
2. The Sam Ssimbwa Question
This is a subject many would rather avoid, but it cannot be ignored. While it is widely accepted that an assistant coach does not make the final decisions, continuity within the technical team still matters—especially when that assistant has been part of the journey through qualification.
Having Sam Ssimbwa involved throughout the qualifiers, it would have been prudent to seek harmonisation and retain him until after AFCON. A late technical change is never neutral; it will always tilt either positively or negatively.
In this case, the timing alone made it a gamble.
This is not to suggest that the change was the sole cause of our struggles, but it is a factor that cannot simply be skipped. Yes, a head coach has the right to choose his staff—but it is also possible, in football as in life, to choose wrongly. This is not a personal attack on Fred, but an acknowledgement of an uncomfortable reality.
3. Squad Preparation and Player Selection
After six years away from AFCON, it was inevitable that the squad would include many players experiencing the tournament for the first time. Inexperience, therefore, was expected. What mattered more was how that inexperience was managed and prepared for.
Preparation begins with scouting and timely integration. Herein lies a major flaw. Several players who were expected to contribute at AFCON were introduced far too late into the setup.
Sibbick and Obita made their debuts not long before the tournament. Uche was summoned late and barely given minutes. Baba and Melvyn went to AFCON without having played a single competitive match for the national team.
These are quality players, but quality alone is not enough. Chemistry, understanding, and adaptation take time. Introducing players late and expecting instant cohesion at a major tournament is unrealistic.
Equally concerning was the inconsistent handling of senior players such as Onyango, Magoola, Muleme, and Awany. If the intention was to move on from them, then that decision should have been clear and final. If the intention was to rely on them, then consistency was required. Instead, their on-and-off inclusion created an imbalance, and ultimately, many of them had little to no impact on the campaign.
More troubling still was the inclusion of several below-par performers at the expense of players who arguably deserved a place. Following the CHAN tournament in August, there was ample justification for considering Joel Sserunjogi, Enock Ssebagala, and Watambala—based not only on CHAN, but also on the glaring midfield deficiencies that later manifested at AFCON.
To put this in context, the 2019 AFCON squad controversies were relatively minimal. The exclusion of Okello was reportedly due to trial commitments in Switzerland, while murmurs about leaving out league top scorer Juma Balinya were muted, largely because his form appeared to be a one-off. In contrast, the 2025 squad selection sparked widespread debate, with several inclusions defying sporting logic.
Shafik Kwikiriza, despite a poor CHAN campaign, and Reagan Mpande, who was largely average, were entrusted as wing options—an indefensible decision at this level. Even more baffling was the inclusion of James Bogere. While his appearance at the U-17 World Cup in Qatar was commendable, it is almost unheard of for a player without any top-flight club football experience to be selected for a senior AFCON squad. Summoning a 17-year-old under such circumstances, at the expense of more seasoned options, made little sporting sense, among many other ridiculous decisions in that line.
Another questionable decision was the initial call-up of 30 players, followed by the eventual dropping of two—Owori and Lukwago. On one hand, trimming the squad was always expected, so releasing two players in itself was not the issue. However, recent revelations from the coach’s press conferences raise serious concerns.
He confirmed that Awany sustained an injury in his final club match and, even more troubling, lost his father before the final squad was officially confirmed. The real puzzle, therefore, is how a fully fit defender in David Owori was dropped, while an injured defender in Awany was retained. It is difficult to find any footballing logic that justifies such a decision. Whatever the reasoning may have been, it amounted to an anti-football call, and those responsible owe the public a clear explanation—if not an outright apology.
4. The Uganda Premier League Reality Check
Ultimately, AFCON always exposes domestic realities. Our league, once again, was placed under a harsh spotlight.
In 2019, only five UPL players made the AFCON squad: Tadeo Lwanga (Vipers), Allan Kyambadde, Patrick Kaddu, Timothy Awany, and Derrick Nsibambi (all KCCA). Of those, only Nsibambi failed to make a significant contribution, having not played a single minute.
Fast forward to AFCON 2025, and the UPL representation was far heavier: Shafik Kwikiriza, Ivan Ahimbisibwe (KCCA), Reagan Mpande (SC Villa), Hillary Mukundane, Rogers Torach, and Allan Okello (Vipers). Sadly, expectations were low, and in the end, only one of them was expected to deliver—ironically becoming central to our exit.
The comparison raises uncomfortable questions. Did Desabre, in 2019, simply select the right players from the league? Or did Put, in 2025, select the wrong ones—or perhaps find himself constrained by forces beyond his control? If there was no invisible hand in the selection process, then responsibility falls squarely on the coach for summoning players he seemingly did not trust enough to field. Either way, the broader question remains unavoidable:
How good is the Uganda Premier League, really?
A Reflective View of Our Campaign
With our journey in the competition now concluded, it becomes necessary to look back and descriptively reflect on the nature of the tournament we experienced—one defined by difficult decisions, structural shortcomings, and recurring themes that ultimately shaped our exit.
Tunisia vs. Uganda
The injury crisis at the back made unconventional decisions almost unavoidable, which is how we ended up with Torach starting the match. However, handing him his senior debut against a side of Tunisia’s calibre, at a major tournament, was always going to be a tall order. In truth, it was an unnecessary gamble.
Another major talking point was the decision to bench Okello, a player who had arguably been in consistent form for over a year. That call raised eyebrows, especially given the need for composure and experience on such a stage.
In midfield, the match exposed a long-standing reality: the Aucho–Ssemakula pairing was never the answer and has never provided the balance or control the national team deserves. The game itself became a clear lesson in naivety, inexperience, and a lack of competitive aggression—shortcomings that were all too evident in the 3–1 scoreline.
Uganda vs. Tanzania
This derby, on paper and in phases of play, appeared relatively balanced. However, it was undermined by the coach’s initial decision to bench all recognised strikers in favour of a makeshift number nine. That approach blunted our attacking intent from the outset.
To his credit, the coach’s reaction through substitutions was relatively timely and almost paid dividends. We came agonisingly close to turning the game around, only for Okello to squander a gilt-edged opportunity—one that, in hindsight, became decisive in sealing our early elimination.
Descriptively, this was a match where the absence of leadership, collective responsibility, and cohesion came to the fore. It was the moment when our fate was effectively sealed, even before permutations officially confirmed our exit.
Uganda vs. Nigeria
Perhaps due to mounting pressure, the coach once again opted to bench Okello—a decision that, in my view, was unjustified. Whether right or wrong is open to debate, but when weighed against the circumstances, it felt like the wrong call. If a choice had to be made between Okello and Travis, then based on their respective performances against Tanzania, Okello had clearly been the better performer.
Nigeria entered the match with nothing at stake, which explained their eight changes to the lineup. While their quality still surpassed ours, the reduced urgency in their approach was evident, particularly in the early stages.
This presented an opportunity—one we failed to seize. We lacked proactivity and composure, and our performance was marred by avoidable and costly decisions, ranging from Salim’s red card incident to the manner in which we conceded goals.
Inevitably, we succumbed to the Super Eagles, bringing our campaign to an end in fittingly frustrating fashion.
Between Sympathy and Shortcomings: Paul Put and the coaching limits of hisapproach
Overall, it is fair to say that the outing was far from pleasant, and on a personal level, I struggle to draw any genuine positives from it.
That said, in fairness to the coach, there is room to understand—at least to some extent—the constant switches in line-ups and the decisions taken along the way. The reality is that he went into the competition without a truly dependable driving force in a player: the kind of player you can look to on and confidently believe can alter the course of a match, irrespective of the in-game proceedings. The Kakande of 2024 at SC Villa, the Okello of 2019 at KCCA, the Manzoki of 2022 at Vipers, or the Kambale of 2021 at Express. Paul Put simply did not have that luxury, and in such circumstances, a degree of sympathy is inevitable.
On the other side of the coin, it is safe to argue that many European coaches working in Africa, or with African players, tend not to prioritize flair. Instead, they emphasize hard work, athleticism, physical aggression, and intensity—often using these traits as the foundation of their teams’ identity and style of play.
In Paul Put’s case, however, we did not see a team that embodied any of those qualities. This was not only evident at the tournament itself but had been a recurring theme throughout the qualification campaign. It clearly points to a lack of emphasis on these fundamentals in his approach.
Rather than leaning into the strengths traditionally associated with African football, the team appeared to pursue a soft, silky, possession-based style more commonly linked with European sides. Unfortunately, this approach was neither fully developed nor convincingly executed, and it was never truly evident—even at the AFCON finals.
From a tactical standpoint, the coach also fell short in his preparation. There was little evidence of detailed opponent analysis or early tactical planning aimed at exploiting our strengths while neutralizing those of the opposition. Instead, the team seemed to rely heavily on in-game situations and reactive adjustments. This approach nearly paid off against Tanzania but was ruthlessly exposed against Tunisia and Nigeria.
Reflections
1. We must finally come to terms with a hard truth: meaningful progress will only come when we deliberately return to the grassroots. Investment in grassroots football is no longer optional—it is the foundation upon which the entire game must be rebuilt, nurtured, and sustained from the bottom up.
2. It is equally important to be honest with ourselves about the level of talent at our disposal. We are not as richly endowed with exceptional ability as public hype often suggests. However, through structured grassroots development, the relative talent we do possess can be properly moulded, refined, and elevated into genuinely competitive footballers.
3. A serious reflection must also be directed at the standard and overall quality of our domestic league. This, again, is inseparable from grassroots development. A well-structured base directly strengthens the league, and in time, allows it to organically supply the senior national team—much like South Africa and Egypt do today, and as Uganda successfully did during the 1980s and 1990s.
4. Those entrusted with decision-making, particularly in player selection and squad assembly, must be accountable. Responsibility must be owned, mistakes acknowledged, and lessons drawn. Moving forward, there must be clear evidence of improvement and more informed judgment in these critical decisions.
5. Above all, the players themselves should feel the deepest sense of disappointment. They must engage in honest self-reflection, openly acknowledge the shortcomings displayed, and commit—individually and collectively—to correcting them and raising their standards in future engagements.
Excellent write up Desmond. Keep it up.