There is a moment most people know well. The relationship is over, the conversations have stopped, and yet somehow, weeks later, you realise you are still following each other on Instagram, Twitter, or TikTok. Neither of you has pressed unfollow. For Ugandan journalist and television news anchor Canary Mugume, that quiet digital standoff is not accidental. It tells a story.
Speaking on a podcast that has since sparked considerable conversation online, Mugume weighed in on a question that is almost universally relatable: why do former lovers in Kampala, and across Uganda broadly, continue to follow each other on social media even after their relationships have ended? His answer was candid, layered, and honestly a little uncomfortable in the best possible way.
“Unfinished Business” Is the Real Culprit
Mugume’s central argument is that the social media follow is rarely a passive act. According to him, the continued digital connection often signals what he described as “unfinished business.” That phrase carries a lot of weight. It suggests that for many people, the breakup never truly felt like a closing chapter. There are loose ends. There are feelings that were never properly addressed. And the follow button becomes a quiet placeholder for everything that was left unsaid.
This is not a Kampala-specific phenomenon, of course. But Mugume speaks specifically about the city’s social landscape, where communities are tight, social circles overlap, and running into your ex at the same rooftop bar on a Friday is almost statistically inevitable. Against that backdrop, the digital follow takes on added significance. It is a small act with a surprisingly loud message.
Hoping for a Second Chapter
One of the more psychologically interesting points Mugume raised is the role of hope. Some couples, he suggests, end things badly. Maybe there was an argument that went too far, a misunderstanding that spiralled, or simply terrible timing. But despite the messy ending, one or both parties privately believes that circumstances could change. Keeping the follow active is, in a way, keeping the door open.
It is the digital equivalent of leaving a spare key with someone. You are not together. But you have not fully let go either.
Relationship psychologists have written about this pattern extensively. The theory of unresolved attachment, as Mugume touches on in his podcast remarks, holds that people who did not get proper closure tend to maintain symbolic connections long after the practical relationship has ended. Social media has simply given that tendency a very visible, very modern form.
The Surveillance Dimension
Then there is the side of this that nobody likes to admit: the watching. Mugume is refreshingly honest about the fact that some people stay connected to their exes not out of lingering affection, but out of curiosity that edges into competitiveness. They want to see how the other person is doing. Are they happier? Have they moved on? Are they struggling or thriving?
This kind of post-breakup monitoring is more common than most people would admit in polite conversation. Social media makes it extraordinarily easy. You do not need to ask mutual friends for updates. You do not need to manufacture a chance encounter. You just scroll. And the algorithm, unbothered by your emotional history, will keep serving you content from that person’s life indefinitely.
The psychological term often associated with this is “social comparison,” and it cuts in multiple directions. Sometimes people check in on an ex and feel relief, even a quiet pride, seeing that their own life looks richer by comparison. Other times, they see someone glowing and moving forward, and it stings in ways they were not prepared for. Either way, they keep looking.
Why Kampala Feels This More Acutely
Mugume’s framing of this as a specifically Kampala conversation is worth unpacking. The city has a social culture built on visibility. People are seen at the same events, within the same circles, and on the same platforms. Reputation and social perception matter. When a relationship ends in Kampala, the aftermath is rarely entirely private. Both parties often share friends, attend the same gatherings, and yes, follow the same people online.
In that context, unfollowing an ex can feel like a public declaration of war. It announces something. It draws attention. So some people choose the quieter, more ambiguous option: stay connected, say nothing, and let the follow speak for itself.
What Social Media Has Changed About Breakups
Before smartphones and social platforms reshaped daily life, a breakup had a natural endpoint. You stopped calling. You stopped visiting. Time and distance did the rest. Today, that natural fade is almost impossible to achieve without deliberate, conscious effort. You have to actively mute, unfollow, or block someone to reclaim the mental space a breakup is supposed to create.
Most people do not do that. And so the algorithm keeps the connection alive, long past its natural expiration date. Every birthday reminder, every tagged photo, every story viewed at 2 a.m. is a small rip in a wound that never quite healed.
Mugume, speaking from the perspective of someone who observes people and stories for a living, seems to understand this clearly. His point is not that staying connected is inherently wrong. It is that the follow is rarely meaningless. It is always saying something, even when neither person is ready to say it out loud.
So What Should You Actually Do?
There is no universal right answer here, and Mugume is not prescribing one. But his observations invite a moment of honest self-reflection. If you are still following an ex, ask yourself why. Is it habit? Is it hope? Is it that uncomfortable competitive curiosity? Or is it simply that you two parted genuinely amicably and there is no drama attached to it?
All of those are valid answers. But knowing which one applies to you is the important part. Because the follow button, small and insignificant as it seems, is often carrying far more emotional weight than it should.
At the end of the day, Mugume’s podcast moment cuts through the noise with something rare: honesty about the quietly messy ways people navigate loss, pride, and the stubborn hope that things could still turn out differently. The real question is: if you are still following your ex right now, what do you think that says about where you actually stand?
