The paper's managing editor wrote this article for the Mail & Guardian about what it is like to survive under those circumstances
Eighth Street in Kampala's Industrial Area is deserted. Nearly two weeks ago, this was just another busy street in the heart of the Ugandan capital's industrial hub.
On a normal day, the noise from the printing press at Monitor Publications Limited (MPL) would rend the air and the street would be a hub of activity as hundreds of the newspaper's staff paced on and off the premises. This would be punctuated by the hooting of the fast-moving boda bodas (motorcycles) as they rushed to pick up and deliver their passengers.
But, as I write this on Monday, this is not a normal day. In fact, it is the eighth "abnormal" day.
MPL is a shell of its usual self. Instead of the sea of workers, dozens of policemen, armed to the teeth – some with tear gas and anti-riot gear – are spread across the newspaper's premises. A length of yellow tape around the front of the building marks it out as a crime scene. The doors are locked. No one is allowed near the premises.
It all began on May 7. On that day, the Daily Monitor, the flagship newspaper of MPL, published the contents of a letter written by Uganda's top intelligence boss, General David Sejusa, directing one of the country's intelligence arms to investigate claims that top government officials opposed to the idea of President Yoweri Museveni's son, Brigadier Muhoozi Kainerugaba, succeeding his father had been marked out for possible elimination.
The succeeding days saw a flurry of reaction from the government, mostly criticising Sejusa, who is now holed up in London, of seeking to foment dissent in the army and trying to launch his own presidential bid by sucking the president's son into the succession debate.
Sejusa is no stranger to controversy. In 1996, after commanding the war in the north of the country against the Lord's Resistance Army (LRA) rebels, where he was accused of running a scorched-earth policy, he told a parliamentary committee that the Ugandan army lacked the will to end the war. He also accused his colleagues of corruption.
The regime ordered that he be court-martialled. The general opted to retire from the army – a wish that was rejected.
He challenged the decision in the high court, which ruled in his favour before the state appealed and won in the supreme court.
Instead of being punished, he struck a deal with the government, underwent "rehabilitation" and emerged in 2005 to command an operation that saw opposition leader Kizza Besigye, who was returning from exile in South Africa, brutally arrested. When the courts granted Besigye and others accused of treason bail, Sejusa led an operation during which commandos surrounded the courts and forcefully re-arrested the suspects.
For the Daily Monitor, this new drama had just begun. Three days after publishing the contents of the general's letter, the newspaper received a summons from the police. They wanted to interrogate me (the paper's managing editor) and the two journalists who wrote the story.
The police asked for a copy of the letter and demanded that the journalists reveal their source. Citing ethical obligations to protect sources, the journalists rejected the demand. For three days, the journalists appeared at the seat of the Criminal Investigations Directorate, where the same demand was repeated. They stood their ground.
The police sought a court order compelling the journalists to produce the document. Our lawyer filed an objection, but before it could be heard by the judge, the police turned up on Monday May 20 with a warrant to search the premises for the letter and other documents.
They cordoned off the newspaper's premises, shut down its printing press and switched off two radio stations affiliated to the newspaper.
Despite our newspaper's lawyers being able to have the court cancel the search warrant and ask police to vacate the premises, the police stayed put. It is the eighth day of the siege now. The newspaper has not been able to print and the radio stations are still off air.
To keep its journalists engaged and readers abreast, the newspaper has moved most of its operations online. A skeleton newsroom ensures big news events are captured on the newspaper's website, monitor.co.ug.
For now, the newspaper's future remains foggy. The end of the month is just days away, and despite management's assurance that they will be paid their salaries, many staff are worried about their job security. MPL's managing director, Alex Asiimwe, estimates that the newspaper is losing 120-million shillings (about $45000) a day in circulation and advertising revenue.
The biggest loss, however, may not be monetary. It is the freedom of expression that is under severe test. The Daily Monitor is no stranger to run-ins with the state. In 2002, it was shut down for 10 days after it ran a story about a military helicopter being brought down by LRA rebels. In 2005, KFM, a radio station affiliated to the Daily Monitor, was taken off air after a talk show on the death of a then South Sudan leader.
The state has also dragged the newspaper's editors to court whenever it has published stories deemed to be critical of the regime.
As the leading independent newspaper in Uganda, the Daily Monitor has without doubt taken blows for its stance. What remains to be seen is how deep the scar of this latest assault will be felt on not just the newspaper but also on free speech and the media in Uganda.
On May 30, Uganda's Internal Affairs Minister Hillary Onek ordered police to vacate MPL's premises, bringing the siege to an end.