In a development that has sent shockwaves through the corridors of Commonwealth pomposity, Kenya's former justice minister Martha Karua has been unceremoniously barred from entering Uganda. This is not just a diplomatic snub, it is a full-frontal assault on the concept of rule of law. Or at least the version of it that allows self-important barristers to swan across borders without a care.
Martha Karua, a woman whose legal reputation precedes her like a particularly aggressive strain of influenza, was turned away at the Entebbe airport. Stamped, banned, and sent back to Nairobi like a parcel of suspicious origin. The reason?
Nobody is quite sure. Certainly not the Ugandan authorities who, in time-honoured fashion, have offered only the foggy puffs of silence one expects from a regime that treats transparency as a vaguely communist concept. This is a man, President Museveni, who has been in power so long that his original mandate has fossilised.
He now rules over Uganda like a particularly testy landlord who refuses to fix the plumbing. And he has decided that Martha Karua is not welcome. Why?
Possibly because she planned to meet with opposition figures. Possibly because she said something impolite about the quality of Ugandan governance. Possibly because the stars were misaligned and a goat sneezed in Kampala.
The Commonwealth, that grand old club of former colonies, now has a choice. It can tut loudly, issue a statement expressing 'deep concern', and then do absolutely nothing. This is the traditional response.
It is as predictably British as a cup of weak tea and a raincloud. Or it can take actual action. Suspend Uganda's membership.
Impose sanctions. Demand that Museveni explain why a distinguished jurist is being treated like a common criminal. But we know how this ends.
The Commonwealth will convene a committee. The committee will issue a report. The report will be filed in a drawer in a dusty office in London.
And Martha Karua will remain banned. Meanwhile, the rule of law in Africa continues its slow dance with the absurd. It is not dead.
But it is certainly feeling a little faint. Perhaps it needs a gin. A very large one.
With ice. And possibly a slice of lemon, if we are feeling optimistic.