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An investigation reveals who really is behind Facebook character

How do you track a character who is hell-bent on hiding their identity on the online social networking service, Facebook? That is the task several individuals and intelligence institutions in Uganda have sought to answer as they sought to unmask a Facebook character called Tom Voltaire Okwalinga (TVO). Pseudo names associated with this character include Maverick Blutaski, General Shaka, Rtd Gen. Maverick, and Poliko. The only real person name associated with the character is a 41-year old man called Shaka Robert Kananura.

Shaka’s name was officially linked to TVO for the first time when he was arrested in February 2015 and charged in June 2015 with violating the Computer Misuse Act as a suspect for writing under the name Tom Voltaire Okwalinga or TVO. He denied the charge. He was in the same month released on bail.

But is Shaka really TVO?

On the face of it, this question should be easy to answer. But surprisingly, the Museveni administration has proved exceptionally incompetent in managing ICT issues but even worse when it comes to the management of social media.

Consequently, while the government has spent millions of dollars trying to know who TVO is and gotten little or nothing, it takes even an amateur to establish his identity. It could boil down to either corruption, incompetence, profiteering by insiders in the system preferring not to establish truths. Among its major attempts was a government request to Facebook to release the identity of TVO. Facebook refused.

Meanwhile TVO has continued unleashing sensational information.

On December 30th 2016 at 8:16am, TVO posted on his page: “HUGE BREAKING NEWS IN 10 MINUTES”.

Then later he posted: “1st. Jan. a covert and clandestine campaign to quickly uproot the illegitimate regime begins. This will target (President Yoweri) Museveni, his family members (who are part of the oppression machine), their business interests and anything and anybody associated with them will be targeted by people. They will not see or know who they are. The very ground on which this illegitimate regime is standing will be more shaky than ever before.”

But the events that have exposed the identity of TVO had started a few days earlier, on December 26, 2016.

On that day, at 12.36am, a group of hackers claiming to be Albanian hacked into the websites of several government departments and ministries including that of Finance, Education, President’s Office, Uganda National Examinations Board, the Inspectorate of Government, the National Agriculture Research Organisation, Judicial Service Commission, Post Bank, Ministry of Foreign Affairs and embassies/consulates in Bujumbura, Pretoria, and Mombasa etc.

After this, they sent an electronic message to TVO on Facebook.

“Hello. Is this TVO? We are an Albanian hacker group with anonymous. We are working on hacking Uganda government and we came across you. We are wondering if you want to buy some information we have hacked from websites and server about government and president of Uganda. Uganda Website security is very bad and the administrators are very stupid. We have a lot of information from a lot of websites from,, and plenty more. We also have a lot of Uganda top stories. If you want them we would like to talk to you about working with you and taking out the corrupt government.”

Now TVO is a smart internet junkie. He instinctively feared this could be a trap to unmask him. So he did not take the bait easily.



  1. Why would Mwenda investigate TVO? Did TVO’s publications ever attack the person of Mwenda? Did TVo’s publications ever put both Mwenda’s private and professional integrity into disrepute? Has Mwenda turned against the struggle for free press or is he struggling for public space? Did Mwenda do it out of public outcry, who was he saving and saving them from what? I read this article with a lot of disgust and how I remembered when government sued Mwenda and his editor (Charles Onyango Obbo) for publishing “false news.” This is how COO narrated the ordeal.

    A Ugandan Journalist Is Taken to Court By his Government
    Mounting a Defense to a Charge of ‘Publication of False News’

    Article by Charles Onyango-Obbo

    When I read The Sunday Monitor on the morning of September 21, 1997, my heart skipped a beat. A screaming headline proclaimed: “Kabila Paid Uganda In Gold—Says Report.” The Monitor’s senior reporter, Andrew Mwenda, wrote the story. On that Sunday, Mwenda was just 12 days shy of his 25th birthday. At that early age, he was already clearly the top political reporter in the
    I met up with the editor of The Sunday Monitor on Monday morning and joked about how his
    lead story was going to send me to jail. (I am Editor of The Monitor, so under Ugandan law I have legal responsibility for what appears in any edition of the paper.) The story was based on a report in a Paris-based publication, The Indian Ocean Newsletter. That paper had reported that the government of the new President of Zaire, renamed Congo, Laurent Kabila, had paid Uganda in gold for “services rendered” to his rebels when he was fighting to oust the Mobutu Sese Seko dictatorship. “Services rendered” was a reference to the military support that Uganda had given the anti-Mobutu rebels during the war.
    My unease was not about the facts. In any case, the story gave prominence to responses from two government officials, one of them a minister, denying that Congo had paid Uganda. It was the politics of it that worried me; the conclusion one was likely to draw was that the Ugandan government had become a mercenary outfit and had helped oust Mobutu not out of a noble aim to take out a dictator, but to earn money from the enterprise.
    My fears about being sent to jail were realized a week later. President Yoweri Museveni, speaking at a military parade, went ballistic. He swore that The Monitor would pay for the story and that we must go to jail for it. Uganda is not a
    conventional democracy. The president still has the powers of an 18th Century
    king. And what he asks for, he gets.

    Two days later, the police came to our offices to take statements. On October 24, Mwenda
    and I were served with criminal summons to appear in the chief magistrate’s court. Though we drove ourselves to court, immediately upon our arrival we were bundled off to filthy holding cells near the court, which were overcrowded with common criminals.
    After about an hour, we were taken out to a rather bizarre court session. We were charged with “publication of false news” under Section 50 (1) of the Penal Code. This is punishable upon conviction by two years in jail. Our lawyer was the city’s most well-known “new breed” of lawyer, but nevertheless the magistrate asked him to produce his law certificate. Thirty minutes went by
    before the certificate was brought from our counsel’s office. The hours were ticking perilously close to 5 o’clock, when the courts closed.
    We pleaded innocent. Among other things, the magistrate slapped a record bail of $2,000 on each of us. That is a lot of money in a country where the per capita income is $300. More significantly, it was the highest bail ever demanded for a misdemeanour, and the prosecution hadn’t even “opposed” bail. (In Uganda, the accused applies for bail and the prosecution can either oppose the application or choose not to contest it. It is extremely rare for a magistrate to impose a
    cash bail in instances where the prosecution hasn’t raised objections.) Our $2,000 bail was even higher than had been set for anyone who had been granted bail for rape, defilement, theft and, in a few cases, murder. The magistrate
    must also have known that hardly anyone carries that amount of money in cash.
    And though The Monitor could raise $4,000 for the two of us, the banks had closed three hours earlier.

    In a strange request, the magistrate ordered that the people who stood as our sureties produce legal documents indicating that they were residents at the addresses they had given. As it was a Friday, it seemed a common trick pulled by the government was working itself through this partisan magistrate. The conditions of the bail were so stiff that it was unlikely that we would meet
    them in the 30 minutes that were left before the court closed. The result would then have been a weekend in jail before we appeared in court Monday morning. When courts close, the prisoners—and all people like us whose cases are not concluded for the day—are herded under heavy security into buses and vans and driven off to a sprawling “maximum” prison in the suburbs of the city.

    Our magistrate was, however, foiled by a piece of modern technology and wiliness of journalists. We had been escorted out of court and were sitting in the cells waiting for the guards to come. It was nearly 6 p.m., and the bus should have left an hour back. Everyone was puzzled about the delay. It turned out that dozens of journalists had come to the court and, through means that we are bound never to reveal, caused the delay of the bus’s departure. And as soon as we had left the courtroom, our colleagues and lawyers went to work on their cell phones to contact bank managers. The $4,000 in cash was brought to the court just after five and paid into the cash office.
    On Monday, we began to fight back. We petitioned the High Court against the outrageous bail. Our argument was simple. To publish something that annoys the President cannot be worse than murder and rape. We won and got our money back. The bail was lowered to $200 for each of us.
    Then we took the unprecedented step and petitioned the Constitutional Court. The Constitutional Court is a very awesome place, and there have been times in the past when it did not receive a single petition for two years. Our petition argued that the laws in the Penal Code that made criminal the act of publication were archaic and a violation of the democratic principles set out
    in the new constitution (1995).
    Our audacity paid off. The Constitutional Court met to hear our voluminous petition. But we emerged with only a half-victory. It refused to hear our arguments, arguing that our human rights had not yet been violated, since the lower court had not disposed of our case. In other words, until the magistrate’s court had sent us to prison or acquitted, we had no case. And unless we went through the trial, we could not complain that we shouldn’t have been tried. The consolation was that they agreed to hear our petition once the lower court was done, whether or not we lost the case.
    We had never understood why the “court system” was so dreaded until we entered it. On our next court appearance, the chief magistrate who had been given so much trouble was not on the case. A new one had been assigned. Then, on our third appearance, we found the case had again been reassigned.
    In the end, it went through five magistrates. In a court system where there are no juries, who sits as the magistrate is critical. And what it meant in our case was that no single magistrate could acquire an overall picture of the case, nor receive firsthand testimony about the evidence. Each successive one would have to rely on reading about the endless evidence. Also, if the state has a bad time during some points in the trial, it can salvage its case by putting together a powerful summation. This would be far more influential for a magistrate who came in at the tail end and has had none of the previous argument, than it would for one who had been with the case all the way. Worse, it throws the defense in some disarray by forcing it to keep shifting tactics with every change of magistrate.
    Between October 24, 1998 and February 16, 1999, when the case before these magistrates
    ended, we made 33 trips to the court. We therefore had to get 33 bail extensions. Going through that made our lives very difficult. I found that we watched every story we published and every action we did very carefully, lest it lead to an application by the state to cancel our bail or to pile on new charges.

    We could not travel outside the city without discussing it with our lawyers. All our travels abroad during that period were built around the next trial. We had to be careful to build in several days to provide for various flight cancellations, just to ensure that we didn’t miss court dates. We lost control of our schedules.
    On February, Magistrate Margaret Tibulya acquitted us in a remarkably brave ruling for an officer of the court at that level. Good political judgment, luck, smart defense lawyers, and the traditional difficulties for state prosecutors in handling criminal cases against the media helped our cause immensely.

    Early in meetings with our lawyers, we concluded that the best strategy was to lower the political temperature around the story. In order to do that, we chose the risky path of discouraging several international press freedom groups from mounting any protest campaigns against our troubles. This was a slippery plan because in the majority of such cases in the Third World where media freedoms are not well established, international protests by the world press freedom groups have been instrumental in embarrassing anti-free press governments into releasing and dropping cases against journalists.
    We also had one of The Monitor’s reporters and an attorney travel to Kinshasa to get more evidence. We were pleasantly surprised to find that a crusading independent newspaper, Le Potentiel, had published a story on September 17, 1997, detailing how much, according to what it alleged were official records, each of the countries that had supported Kabila to take power, including Uganda, had been paid in war reparations. We were also able to get a statement
    that had been issued by the Congolese mining authority explaining that it was not forwarding enough money to the military to pay the recently victorious soldiers because it was taking care of Kabila allies. Therefore if push came to shove, we would argue truth.
    Our plan A however was to push the point that whether the Uganda government was paid in
    gold, or paid at all, was not critical to the case. Section 50 (1) seeks to punish not just false information, but says that it must “also cause public alarm.” Our lawyers held that it was not the intention of the makers of the law to punish all false news. For example, no journalist would be charged with publishing false news if he or she misreported the goals a rival team scored
    against the national soccer team in an international match—something that might indeed cause a measure of “public alarm.”
    The law, according to our lawyers, intended to punish only falsehoods that were “very substantial.” The most important aspect was therefore not falsehood, but public alarm. The prosecution found it easier to prove falsehood than alarming the public, so they concentrated on that. They paid dearly for that tactical mistake. And they made their case worse by relying exclusively on state
    employees as their witnesses.
    Secondly, the charges arose out of two sentences, in a story that had 60 sentences. The prosecution had to prove that the “statement” in issue was false. Our defense therefore argued that the “statement” was the whole story, not just two sentences, and that none of the state witnesses claimed to have read only the two contentious parts. All of them had read the whole story. Therefore if the “statement” was the whole story, then the prominent comments by the government minister and officials that indeed there had been no payment could not be
    Thirdly, our side argued that there was nothing wrong with being paid, as long as the service was not of a criminal nature. The magistrate ruled that the prosecution and its witnesses had proved that there had been no payment in gold to Uganda. She went on to point out that the same point had been made by the government officials who we quoted in the story. However, she ruled that the state had failed to prove that any aspect of the story had caused public alarm. She noted that instead one of the state witnesses, a manager with the central bank, said that if indeed there had been a payment, then she would have been “very happy,” because it would have improved the country’s gold reserves.
    Finally, she also found that “handpicked” government employees, who had no option under the terms of their employment except to defend the state, were not credible witnesses in a case in which “public opinion” was supposed to be the benchmark for proof. Therefore she acquitted us.
    During the trial, Uganda and Rwanda had turned against President Laurent Kabila, whom they had helped overthrow Mobutu in May 1997. Museveni acknowledged in several statements that Uganda had indeed given Kabila military aid, and he had now become an ingrate who was biting the hand that feeds him. Kabila and his ministers kept denouncing Uganda, claiming that its soldiers had gone bad, and Ugandan troops in DR Congo were no longer liberators but had turned into rogues who were looting the country’s minerals and timber.
    This fed a lot of media and public interest in our case, because we were seen as being persecuted for telling the truth. The independent FM stations in Kampala, in particular, followed the trial closely. Beside the news value, they had a selfish interest. The case was a popular subject of radio talk shows and jokes mocking the government, so the stations often covered it in order to supply the raw material for the evening’s phone-ins. In the state media, meanwhile, Mwenda and I were denounced as conniving traitors who had recklessly caused the story to be published in order to become “martyrs.” Overstated, perhaps, but it can’t be denied that we became small stars; we signed quite a handful of autographs, and the service we received in most restaurants where we went was always very good.

    We were saved by the fact that the reporter called two government officials—and the Sunday Editor let their denials stand, uninteresting as they were. That was something the prosecutors couldn’t get around.
    The lesson here is an old one. It is good journalism to give the other side its say, however little it might seem to add to the story. This could turn out to be the only thing that a lawyer can use to keep you out of jail.

    [When all is said, I am quickly reminded of a Jose` Chameleon’s song (Bayudda tuyitta nabo abalala tulya nabo.) I am not a journalist but I am aware that one of the qualities of a good journalist is to protect their sources. If these revelations are not a prank on the would be “investigators”, clearly, then, Mwenda is in desperate search of public attention.]

  2. Wow!!

    • Richard J. Zickler

      I would find your story much more believable if you stated that your source was an ex-girlfriend of TVO, well because sometimes people drop their guard while in romance.

      While you‘ve made it look so easy to track down the anonymous blogger, I find your technical explanation wanting i.e. it does not provide the entire trail end –to-end, but bits of fragments and many loose ends.

      First you admit that TVO is no novice, case in point is when the “Albanian hacker group” contacted him,; he made effort to establish their authenticity via the dark web. That alone implies that TVO was cautious of his tracks and thus very careful not to respond to possible bait from people looking for him.

      However you go ahead to state that TVO made a strategic mistake to contact the “Albanian Hacker group”; Question: do you really think that the already suspicious TVO contacted the “Albanian Hacker group” with an account that would easily give him away? I think its logical to think that if TVO went underground, he should have used another pseudo Identity that does not point to him…this makes more sense to me. Do you really think TVO would make it easy for anyone to pinpoint him on “Darker Web”. I am not sure you have been on the Darlk Web, but if I am to give you hints, people use “codes” on the Darker Web because it’s inherently an area where the word trust does not exist. Criminals and State agents and cops masquerade with their own gaols but on pseudo identities… via proxies, vpns, and cryptography …that why its partly called a dark web.

      You have not even availed any information that personally identifies TVO from the said interaction between TVO and the “Albanian Hackers” via the dark web; yet this seems to be the fulcrum of your argument of “unearthing TVO” . Why not present the 0s and 1s here that reveal the mesh of the internet connections, mac & IP addresses, to backup your story. Are assuming its only you who can make sense of the techie information? ..could it be that you could not make sense of it yourself? that case relied on your hackers’ word!

      I think for me to concur with you, you need to clearly show your methodology, which should give consistent results for any one doing performing investigation like yours. I am basically asking for scientific proof, not fables based on circumstantial infor.

      Secondly, while Iits possible that TVO was possibly lax by posting geographical information about his trips on social media, it’s also possible that he did it to deliberately mislead the cops or whoever is trailing him. Andrew, I am sure you know the phrase Counter Espionage exists for a reason in the English Dictionary. It makes more logical sense to me to believe that a fugitive with a big bounty like TVO would not deliberately guide the cops to his doorstep. Surprised that doesn’t seem to make sense to you!

      Lastly going by your earlier posts on TVO, I actually thought (Robert Shaka) TVO left the country for good, possibly for his security, because you indicated that once he got bail in February 2015, he fled to the USA. I thus find it contradictory for you to base your argument on the so called numerous immigration records at Entebbe airport that indicate Robert Shaka (TVO) flying in and out the country in recent months. Thought you said he lives in the USA. So which TVO (Robert Shaka) has been travelling from EBB in recent months?

      Its actually more logical that TVO manipulates his geographical postings on purpose to fool people like you who are after him. I really don’t want to think that TVO is that careless. This could actually be laziness on your part as journalist who has his mind made up, and all you’re doing is to fit the TVO story as per your script.

      Andrew, I suggest you share with us your detailed 0 &1s from your hackers, …give us a chance corroborate that info with those email addresses and timelines that you are throwing around. If you did good investigation journalism work, we should reach similar conclusions as you…., other than that, what you have here could be information you got from a honeypot set by TVO to trap people like you. ..that would actually make fool of your 20+ years of investigation journalism that you boasted about the other day

      My verdict…50 /50….the information you have availed is probably what the police relied upon to arrest Robert Shaka in 2015…it was inconclusive then, just as it is now. The only difference is you own a magazine and you chose to print a misleading Headline…Unmasking TVO, yet the details are more of circumstantial evidence.

      But like I said, I can not rule out anything, may be you have information that you are not yet ready to share with us your followers.

      Well, I am not entirely disputing Mwendha piece of investigation, all I am saying in simple English language is that if it’s true that a hacker group affiliated to Andrew Mendha indeed hacked into TVO’s account, then let him give us undeniable excerpts from the hacked FB of TVO or the Hacker account TVO used while on the dark web.

      There must be a plethora of communications between TVO and his contacts from those accounts. ..and given the chest thumping nature of Mwendha, he would make a kill from publishing those excerpts over the coming months. This is what WikiLeaks does and our own local tabloid Red pepper …not giving us loosely augmented stories.

      Believe me that empirical evidence would shut up TVO for life. If Mwenha can not avail this infor, then I bet his best chance is to revisit his investigation to redeem the Independent Magazine. I personally read and often find well researched stories. All the other information about TVO’s email addresses is public knowledge because he freely posted them online…

      The TVO story is so patched up…and risks dragging Mwendha’s credibility into the mad

      • Geoffrey Jeff Ekongot

        I totally agree with you. Mwenda thinks this is 1992 where very few people can look up claims and verify them on their own. This is a very big story in which one can not create room for excuses such as the audience not being able to read or understand the geek content which is his strongest basis of proof. There are so many of us geeks who are too eager to crunch away at such claims and arrive at alternative or similar conclusions. So far this article has no definitive proof of unmasking TVO except that he was overly eager to run it. So overly eager enough to leave typos right in the headline. Mwenda is wanting and 20 years of journalism are being crowned with popcorn. What a waste of all that effort.

        • ימפּאָסטער

          He thinks everyone blindly believes what he writes. Anyone will remote understanding of IT can coin this story. Baloney!

  3. Andrew Mwenda should stop putting Shaka’s life at risk.You gain nothing by fighting this young Innocent life.So you want him to be arrested and killed by the Regime that does not tolerate opposing views?? If what TVOP has been writting were false,why would government spend sleepless nights looking for him instead of ignoring?? I know Andrew has joined the Money grabbing crusade and is playing dirty.Should anything ever happen to Shaka,be prepared to park up and leave with the regime when their time comes because Ugandans will take serious revenge.

  4. ימפּאָסטער

    Is there anyone who really believes this `story?

  5. Big up COB {charles onyango obbo} for the establishment

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