In an exclusive conversation with India Legal, Vasundhara shared her painful experience and called for greater accountability and protection for individuals targeted through abuse of power and legal systems abroad
India Legal (IL): You were reportedly detained without warning in Uganda. Could you take us back to that moment—what were you doing when the officers approached you, and how did they behave?
Vasundhara Oswal (VO): It was around 5:30 am when our admin manager at the factory called to inform me that several police officers were outside our gate. Panicked, I immediately contacted my parents who were in the UK at the time, and my father said he would try to find out what was happening. Despite his concerns, I went out to the gate to understand the situation.
There were about 4-5 male officers in camouflage uniforms stationed there. When I asked why they were present, they simply said: “We are here to do our work and can be parked anywhere. It does not concern you.” I offered to assist if needed, but they told me their “bosses are coming”.
I updated my father, who was upset that I had gone outside the factory gate and urged me to return to the on-site house. Back inside, while I was on the phone with my mother, I overheard my father speaking to the security staff, trying to understand what was happening.
From my balcony, I witnessed a sudden commotion at the gate. Our security guards tried to hold it shut but failed as over 20 officers stormed in. Seeing them head towards the admin block where I was staying, I stepped outside to intercept them. They claimed they were conducting a raid to find a missing person. When I asked for a search warrant, they denied having one but insisted they wouldn’t leave without completing the operation.
Even after the raid, they didn’t leave. They insisted I accompany them to the Interpol headquarters for a meeting with their director. When I refused, I was forcibly pushed into an unmarked van by an officer who pointed a gun at me and ordered me not to move. My rights were never read, no charges were presented, and I had no idea at the time how unlawful the situation was—until a UK-based human rights lawyer, Dan Sarooshi QC, later told me that my arrest amounted to a state-sanctioned kidnapping.
IL: Were you informed about the legal grounds for your arrest at the time? Did the officers present any documentation such as a warrant or legal notice?
VO: There was no warrant, no charges, and no rights were read. The arrest was entirely illegal and arbitrary.
IL: You’ve mentioned that a male officer forcefully picked you up and threw you into a police van. That must have been terrifying. Did you feel that your physical or personal safety was being violated?
VO: Absolutely. I remember screaming over the phone, telling the officer he couldn’t do this. I could hear both my parents on the line shouting, “GET OUT OF THE CAR.” I tried, but when I attempted to exit from the other side, a man with an AK-47 pointed it directly at me and ordered me not to move. I felt completely helpless and terrified. It didn’t feel like the law was being followed.
IL: At the time of your arrest, were you allowed to call a lawyer or reach out to your family? If not, what was your immediate reaction to being isolated in a foreign country?
VO: We only had civil lawyers in Uganda; we had never been involved in any criminal cases before and were unprepared. My father urgently contacted any lawyers we knew, but they weren’t helpful. Many were reluctant to confront the police, fearing consequences. Even though nearly ten lawyers were sent to assist me, not one acknowledged that what had happened was illegal. It was extremely disheartening when the very people meant to uphold your rights remained silent.
IL: In those initial hours after your detention, did the authorities ever explain the charges, or were you completely left in the dark?
VO: I wasn’t informed of any charges until the very last day of my illegal detention. Under Ugandan law, the police were supposed to release me within 48 hours if no charges were filed. To delay this, they fabricated charges of “kidnap with intent to murder” and sentenced me the same day, despite an unconditional release order secured by my father.
IL: Could you describe the conditions inside the holding cell and later in the Nakasongola high-security prison? How were you treated by the jail staff and fellow inmates?
VO: Upon entering the prison, I was stripped of all belongings, including religious items, jewellery, and anything sharp. It was humiliating. In Ugandan prisons, it’s customary for inmates to kneel when speaking to wardens—something I refused to do and was repeatedly admonished for.
Surprisingly, the inmates were more humane than the officers. They taught me how to knit and make table mats, which helped pass the time. However, prison was still a terrifying place, full of mentally unstable individuals. At night, I’d hear screams, and there were rumours of rape and suicides. I was even warned not to leave my bedsheet out due to past suicides by hanging.
Basic necessities were not provided. Most inmates had been abandoned by their families and were left with nothing. Convicted prisoners were forced to work in construction and wood cutting without pay. Those on remand, like me, weren’t required to work but lived in equally dire conditions.
IL: Were there any moments during your confinement when you feared you might not make it out alive?
VO: Yes. My lawyers warned me that a drug was allegedly being injected into politically sensitive prisoners—and that I was on the list. Even after my release on bail, I was told that the CID might detain me again—unofficially this time. Out of fear, I was hidden for two weeks in Kampala under protection from Tanzanian army generals and security forces.
IL: You spoke about being denied basic rights like food, water, and even access to restrooms. How did this treatment affect your physical and mental state?
VO: Throughout the three weeks of this ordeal, I was never provided food or water by the authorities. I relied entirely on my parents, who had to bribe officers just to get meals to me. I lost 10 kilograms in three weeks. It became difficult to think and perform daily tasks and I slept through most of the day.
IL: How did other prisoners react to you—a foreign national, a young woman, and the daughter of a billionaire? Did you face hostility or support?
VO: The authorities were hostile, using me to extort my family. But the inmates, despite the language barrier and cultural differences, were kind. They didn’t know who I was, just that I was different. They helped me pass the time by teaching me crafts like mat-making and knitting.
IL: Looking back, was there any single moment in prison that still haunts you or changed your outlook on life permanently?
VO: The most haunting moment was when I was sentenced for “kidnap with attempt to murder” in Luwero court. I wasn’t allowed to speak to my parents before being taken straight to prison. The police had even arranged for media to be present outside the courtroom. My lawyer had to hide me as I was rushed into the truck.
IL: Even after the so-called “victim” Mukesh Menaria was found alive, your detention continued. Why do you believe the Ugandan authorities chose to ignore that critical development?
VO: They wanted to cover up their error in imprisoning an innocent person—and continued exploiting the situation to extort my family. That’s why they chose to ignore the fact that Mukesh had been found alive and keep me in captivity.
IL: Do you believe the legal process in Uganda was manipulated or influenced in any way by external forces or vested interests?
VO: Yes. I believe certain businessmen who had been eyeing our investment saw an opportunity and escalated the situation to benefit themselves.
IL: How responsive was the Indian High Commission in Uganda or the Government of India during this time? Did you feel adequately supported as an Indian citizen abroad?
VO: I believe the Indian High Commission had received misleading information about us, which may have influenced their initial reluctance to intervene. In hindsight, I think they would have acted differently. That said, I received tremendous support from Indian media and the people of India, who quickly saw through the situation.
IL: You’ve indicated that this was part of a larger conspiracy linked to your father’s business rivals. Could you elaborate on what evidence points to this being a planned vendetta?
VO: While I was in detention, several prominent businessmen visited me. One even offered to “hold” my shares in exchange for securing my release. When I told my father, he laughed and said these were likely the very people who orchestrated the entire plot.
IL: Having experienced the system from inside, what do you think are the most critical flaws in Uganda’s criminal justice process, especially when it comes to foreign nationals?
VO: Very few foreign nationals have faced Uganda’s criminal justice system. I was reportedly the first Indian woman to be imprisoned there. The system is deeply flawed—it aims to make you feel forgotten. Remand prisoners are incarcerated before being proven guilty, often languishing in jail for months without trial. I met many women who had been incarcerated on remand for more than six months, even though they proclaimed they were not guilty and had just been put here as they could not afford the bail or afford a lawyer. Once you are inside, it is almost impossible to get out.
IL: Such trauma often leaves deep emotional scars. How are you coping with the aftermath—are you receiving counselling or psychological support?
VO: I haven’t undergone formal therapy. I rely heavily on physical exercise and time with loved ones to heal. For the first two weeks, I had nightly nightmares and couldn’t concentrate at work for over a month. But over time, with support, I’ve found my rhythm again.
IL: How did your parents and close family members deal with your incarceration? What kept you all going during those weeks of uncertainty and fear?
VO: My parents were my strength. They constantly reassured me that they would get me out. I was grateful to speak to them once a week. I held onto my faith in God and my parents. This is what kept me alive.
IL: Now that you are free, do you still feel safe travelling abroad? Or has this experience instilled a fear that might affect your mobility or confidence long-term?
VO: This experience has made me more cautious, especially regarding solo travel in Africa. For months after my release, I wasn’t even allowed to go for a walk alone. With time, things have returned to normal, and I now travel confidently—though I’m still not ready to return to Africa.
IL: Are you planning to pursue legal action against the Ugandan authorities for wrongful detention and human rights abuse? If yes, what are your expectations from that process?
VO: Yes, we are preparing to pursue legal action against both Uganda and Switzerland. I hope this case sets a precedent against abuse of power and legal misconduct.
IL: After such a harrowing experience, do you feel inspired to work for the rights of women, foreign detainees, or abuse survivors? What would be your message to young women facing injustice globally?
VO: Absolutely. During my time in prison, I met children who had grown up there, and I’ve started sponsoring their education. I hope to eventually establish a non-profit to help prisoners rebuild their lives. My message to young women facing injustice is: your life is valuable. Everyone deserves dignity and a second chance. A person’s environment doesn’t define their worth.