Mamdani Deported!!!

Zohran Mamdani Deported, Declares Mayoral Run in Uganda’s Capital Kampala

KAMPALA—After being unceremoniously deported from the United States for the alleged crime of being a “100% communist,” former New York Assemblyman Zohran Mamdani arrived barefoot and resolute in Uganda’s capital city this week, declaring his intent to run for mayor of Kampala.

“New York rejected me. Kampala will rise with me,” he proclaimed through a bullhorn duct-taped to a boda boda taxi.

Wearing a red beret, a borrowed trench coat, and an unsanctioned Karl Marx lapel pin, Mamdani was greeted by three street preachers, one retired librarian, and an unemployed Marxist-Leninist mime named Fred. “He’s one of us,” Fred whispered, miming an invisible sickle.

From Queens to Kampala: A Revolutionary Itinerary

Once hailed as a rising star among New York’s progressive wing, Mamdani had barely celebrated his seventh year of U.S. citizenship before a patriotic coalition of Florida retirees and legal scholars from YouTube’s comments section determined that he was, in fact, a sleeper agent of the global proletariat.

“I looked into his aura,” said Marlene Tobasco, president of the Palm Beach County Republican Mahjong League. “Pure red. Not crimson. Soviet scarlet.”

Within hours of an unratified congressional tweet-thread, ICE allegedly airlifted Mamdani from JFK directly to Entebbe under an executive order printed on a napkin at Mar-a-Lago and signed in ketchup.

Kampala Reacts with Measured Confusion

Ugandan officials at first mistook Mamdani for a returning DJ. When asked for credentials, Mamdani presented a Bernie 2020 sticker and a dog-eared copy of Das Kapital. Customs officials waved him through with a shrug and the phrase, “Eh, Muzungu na politics.”

Within 24 hours, Kampala’s political scene was electrified. Billboards reading “Comrade Zohran: Fresh Ideas, Fair Wages, Free Rolexes” popped up overnight. The Kampala Gossip Tribune reported sightings of Mamdani sipping tea with boda boda union bosses, organizing flash mobs in Makerere University, and posting inspirational Mao quotes in Luganda.

Communism: A Fresh Flavor in Ugandan Politics

Mamdani’s political platform includes a radical municipal program called “Potholes to the People,” which promises to turn every major crater in Kampala into community gardens, Marxist reflection pools, or free Wi-Fi zones.

Under his 10-point plan, cows will receive land titles, boda bodas will be nationalized, and all landlords will be required to share their homes with the proletariat every second Tuesday.

A leaked policy memo calls for renaming all roundabouts after revolutionary figures, including “Che Guevara Circle,” “Lenin Loop,” and “Kwame Nkrumah Flyover.” When asked about funding, a campaign staffer offered a simple answer: “Redistribution.”

Kampala Youth Erupt in Red-Eyed Hope

At a rally in Nakasero, Mamdani addressed a crowd of 19 underemployed university graduates and one confused Canadian tourist.

“You deserve more than broken pavement and defunct ministries,” Mamdani shouted. “You deserve bicycles, beans, and a bookshelf in every hut.”

A spontaneous chant erupted: “Zohran! Zohran! Make Kampala Red Again!”

Several TikTokers have already created filter overlays of Mamdani’s face on Stalin’s body, while a Kampala-based reggaeton duo released a viral track titled “Deport Me, Daddy.”

U.S. Right-Wing Claims Victory: “One Down, Millions to Go”

Back in the States, conservative groups celebrated Mamdani’s deportation as a milestone in their long war against book-learnin’.

Tucker Carlson dedicated an entire episode to his departure titled Good Riddance, Red Rascal. “It’s not just that he loved public transit,” Carlson warned. “It’s that he wanted it to be free.”

Steve Bannon, speaking from his underground fermentation bunker, called Mamdani’s ousting “the most successful ideological exorcism since McCarthy slapped that one guy in 1954.”

Meanwhile, the New York Young Republican Club held a champagne brunch in the Bronx to commemorate Mamdani’s removal, gifting attendees “Deportation Day” bobbleheads and “Stop the Commute-ism” bumper stickers.

Campaign Infrastructure: Bamboo, Tweets, and Soapboxes

Mamdani’s Kampala campaign has so far been run out of a repurposed chicken coop behind his aunt’s cousin’s compound. Staffers work off of handwritten memos, banana-leaf spreadsheets, and a solar-powered fax machine recovered from a failed USAID project.

The candidate reportedly travels exclusively by donkey, in solidarity with the working class and in opposition to “imperialist combustion.”

A local journalist noted Mamdani’s team had mailed copies of The Communist Manifesto to every household with more than one chair. Literacy rates have reportedly surged 3% in neighborhoods that received the books as firewood.

The Official Mayoral Platform

Mamdani’s 58-page manifesto, Uganda Shall Rise Like a Worker’s Fist, includes the following proposals:

  • Public ownership of air rights and bird migration routes.

  • Free Marxist bedtime stories for all children under 12.

  • Conversion of Entebbe Airport’s first-class lounge into a People’s Reading Room.

  • Weekly seminars on dialectical materialism at every boda boda stop.

  • Replacement of ATMs with Redistribution Kiosks.

When asked to clarify how socialism would integrate into the tourism economy, Mamdani replied, “We will not exploit tourists. We will convert them.”

Mixed Reactions from the Ugandan Establishment

President Yoweri Museveni has not officially commented, though insiders claim he was overheard muttering, “Another one? I thought we were done with revolutionaries.”

The Minister of Internal Affairs issued a statement reading, “We welcome all former Americans, especially those with political ambition, as long as they bring their own red flags.”

A coalition of Kampala elders expressed concern that Mamdani’s slogans sound suspiciously like 1979. “We tried this once,” one noted. “We ended up with rationed salt and three national anthems.”

International Backlash and Global Communist Revival

The Chinese Embassy offered to fund a statue of Mamdani in downtown Kampala, sculpted entirely from recycled Huawei routers.

Cuba sent a telegram reading, “Solidarity forever. We too believe in free lunch and glorious rhetoric.”

Meanwhile, Venezuela offered campaign consultants, and North Korea sent a fruit basket containing three apples and a photograph of Kim Jong-un staring longingly at a tractor.

Back in the U.S., The Democratic Socialists of America held a vigil for Mamdani in Washington Square Park, where they burned copies of The Economist and pledged to name the next A train station in his honor.

Kampala’s Corporate Elite Panic, Briefly

Bank CEOs in Kampala called an emergency summit to discuss the “Mamdani Problem.” The gathering was reportedly interrupted by a spontaneous sit-in of barefoot teenagers reading Trotsky in unison.

One banker proposed converting all cash reserves into beans. Another suggested moving headquarters to Rwanda “just in case he brings the Five-Year Plan.”

MTN Uganda, the country’s leading telecom, released a statement expressing “conditional support for any government that pays its bills.”

Mamdani’s Ancestral Street Gets a Makeover

In a public relations coup, Mamdani’s team renamed the street where he was born “Dialectical Drive.” A youth brigade repainted all the curbs red, and a pop-up bakery began selling “Prole Pastries” with slogans like “Eat the Rich (Croissant).”

One visiting diplomat said, “I’ve seen revolutions. This one tastes like cardamom.”

Critics Say He’s Not Ugandan Enough

A growing coalition of Kampala conservatives argues Mamdani is too American to lead, noting his refusal to eat posho with his hands.

“He uses a fork,” one accuser said. “He’s clearly CIA.”

Another protestor held a sign reading, “Go back to Brooklyn and take your dialectics with you.”

Mamdani responded by holding a public seminar titled “The Fork as Capitalist Symbol,” drawing a crowd of twelve and a confused pelican.

Popularity Soars Among the Artist Class

Uganda’s poets, actors, and experimental dancers have rallied behind Mamdani, calling him “the canvas upon which the red paint of hope drips.”

At a recent fundraiser, interpretive dancers reenacted his deportation using rubber boots and three goats. A Kampala sculptor unveiled a bust made from clay, disappointment, and crushed promises.

Mamdani wiped a tear and declared, “The revolution lives in art. And probably also in the National Theatre’s janitor’s closet.”

The Kampala Communist Youth League Is Born

A new organization has emerged, made up entirely of 13-year-olds and one 47-year-old chess teacher. They distribute fliers, spray-paint walls with slogans, and host weekly screenings of Doctor Zhivago.

Their anthem, “We Built This City (On Shared Labor),” is currently topping the charts on Uganda’s state-controlled radio station.

Their uniforms consist of berets, vuvuzelas, and optimism.

Mamdani’s Final Pitch to Kampala Voters

At a televised debate moderated by an angry goat and a BBC correspondent, Mamdani made his closing argument:

“I have been called radical. I have been called foreign. I have been called a communist. I am all of these things. But most of all—I am here. And I brought a plan.”

He held up a crumpled blueprint labeled “Kampala 2.0 – Now With Fewer Landlords.”

The crowd erupted in both cheers and bongo drumming.

Next Steps: Revolution or Reality Show?

With polls showing Mamdani leading 51% to 49% against a local dentist with four wives and a law degree from Belarus, the odds are suddenly in his favor.

His campaign is rumored to be negotiating with Netflix for a documentary titled Red on Arrival: From Queens to Kampala.

He’s also been offered a cooking show by Al Jazeera called Breadline Gourmet.

America Forgets, Uganda Remembers

As America pivots to its next outrage, Uganda is left with a real question: will Mamdani actually win?

A man who once promised to abolish subway fares may soon be managing garbage collection in a city of 1.7 million.

One voter put it best: “He seems serious, but also unserious. Which makes him perfect for Kampala.”


Disclaimer: This article is a collaborative invention between a tenured professor of theoretical absurdity and a retired dairy philosopher. It is entirely fictional, moderately truthful, and deeply committed to comedy as public service. Any resemblance to persons living, deported, or redistributing wealth is entirely intentional.

Auf Wiedersehen, amigos.



15 Observations

  • The President’s deportation memo was signed with a crayon and smelled like McDonald’s mustard.

  • The Department of Homeland Security now uses tarot cards to determine immigration status.

  • Mamdani was deported so fast, his Uber driver got there after he landed in Uganda.

  • Kampala’s potholes are so deep, one swallowed his campaign manager and offered political commentary.

  • Ugandan teens weren’t sure if Mamdani was a mayoral candidate or a TikTok prank, so they voted anyway.

  • His campaign manifesto included plans to nationalize street food and weaponize interpretive dance.

  • His first official act in Kampala was to rename all traffic lights “Collectivist Yield Zones.”

  • The Ugandan opposition slogan was: “He doesn’t even eat cassava right.”

  • Campaign donations were stored in a thermos labeled “Tea for the Revolution.”

  • U.S. conservatives claimed Mamdani manifesto was ghostwritten by Karl Marx’s ghost and edited by Bernie Sanders’ mittens.

  • The campaign held a “People’s Debate” where candidates had to answer questions while riding live goats.

  • His aunt handled communications, press, logistics, and occasionally witchcraft.

  • One voter described him as “the only candidate whose Wi-Fi password is a political statement.”

  • Every campaign promise came with a free yam and a quote from Trotsky.

  • Kampala officially became the first city with mandatory Marxist Mondays.


14 Comedian-Style Lines

“I knew Mamdani was trouble when he tried to unionize a Starbucks. In Brooklyn. At 2am.” — Sarah Silverman

“The guy went from city council candidate to international revolutionary faster than I go from sober to texting my ex.” — Amy Schumer

“They deported him for being a communist? If that’s the case, I better hide my Costco card.” — Jerry Seinfeld

“Uganda welcomed him with open arms and closed wallets.” — Larry David

“He’s the only mayoral candidate who campaigned using goats, bongos, and resentment.” — Chris Rock

“They said he’s 100% communist. I’m just surprised they used math in a political smear.” — Ron White

“He turned a deportation into a job promotion. I get deported from Buffalo Wild Wings and just cry in the car.” — Billy Crystal

“The fascist president wanted him gone so bad, he launched him like an Amazon Prime delivery.” — Trevor Noah

“Imagine getting deported to your birthplace, then taking it over. That’s not politics—that’s reverse colonization.” — Groucho Marx

“He tried to install Marxism in Kampala, but first had to explain it to a goat named Kevin.” — Dave Chappelle

“He’s got more revolutions under his belt than I have failed diets.” — Roseanne Barr

“Mamdani’s campaign slogan was ‘Free Wi-Fi and Yams for All.’ That’s not socialism. That’s hospitality.” — Tig Notaro

“Only guy I know who turns ICE into PR.” — Kevin Hart

“His opponents said, ‘He’s too radical.’ Yeah? So is dental floss in Alabama.” — Ricky Gervais

By Charline Vanhoenacker

Charline Vanhoenacker hails from Giddings, Texas, a place where Friday night football is religion and irony sneaks into every potluck. After studying communications at a Texas public university, she carried her sharp observational humor to Washington, D.C., where she has become a respected voice in satire and political commentary. Vanhoenacker’s columns and performances blend Texan frankness with Beltway savvy, skewering the excesses of power, media spin, and cultural absurdity. Her work has been cited in journalism forums on satire as a democratic tool and featured in European and American discussions on cross-cultural political humor. Known for her ability to translate complex policy into cutting punchlines, she represents a rare mix of local authenticity and global perspective. From Giddings to the capital, Vanhoenacker has proven that humor—when wielded with rigor—can be as clarifying as any policy brief.