18.1 million in 2018 resulting in an exclusion rate of 19%; an exclusion rate lower than the one based on NIRA’s more recent 2020 figures. And more recently, the new Executive Director announced that 15.27 million cards had been issued as of May 31, 2021, suggesting progress of fewer than 40,000 NICs from the 2020 numbers.17 It appears that over the past four years, NIRA has been unable to either close the gap of unregistered adults or to keep up with the growing number of young people who turn 18 every year and become eligible for the NIC.18 And even those fortunate enough to have received a card often face other problems, including the need to correct errors or to undertake the long, tedious process of replacing lost or stolen cards. In many cases this involves not only the cost of travel, but also significant other costs. While the first issuance of the National ID Number (NIN) and NIC is free, any additional services come at a high cost, including at least 50,000 UGX (approximately $14 USD) in direct fees.19 For comparison, 41.7% of people in Uganda live under the international extreme poverty line of 2,510.4 UGX or $1.90 USD per capita per day, and 87.8% of the population live under the more appropriate ‘Upper Middle Class Poverty Line’ of 7,266.9 UGX or $5.50 USD per capita per day.20 Our research focused not just on the process of obtaining an NIC, but also details how Ndaga Muntu has affected access to the human right to health care for women and the human right to social security for older persons. The requirement to show a national ID at public health facilities has become a significant barrier to accessing health services ever since it was introduced in 2019. At one health centre in Kayunga where our research team was conducting a focus group in February 2021, a young woman named Rebecca arrived visibly pregnant–and bleeding.21 She had been experiencing back pain and her friend had urged her to come to the health centre to seek treatment. But when she arrived, instead of being given immediate medical care, she was told by health workers that she would not be treated unless she produced her NIC. Rebecca’s story is not unique, others across Uganda, including women who were pregnant, have been ‘chased away’ and told not to return to public health centres unless they can produce a Ndaga Muntu.22 Those who described the experience of being ‘chased’ told us that they were made to feel as if they did not exist, and that they were not worthy of the time of the medical professionals or local officials because they did not have a national ID. Meanwhile, older persons living in poverty face different and equally heartwrenching struggles with the national ID system. Okye, an 88-year-old man from Namayingo in eastern Uganda, is blind, frail, and unable to move without assistance. When he registered for the national ID, he could not prove his exact date of birth. Like the vast majority of Ugandans, Okye never had a birth certificate. His date of birth was registered incorrectly on his Ndaga Muntu, marking him nine years younger than his actual age. Those nine years are critical, because according to NIRA, he is not yet 80, still too young to receive a cash transfer through the Senior Citizens’ Grant (SCG) which is available only for those older than 80. Okye has been unable to travel to the district offices or pay the fees necessary to correct the error and he is intimidated by what he hears is a long, difficult process. Meanwhile, he continues to miss out on the cash transfer meant to support older persons like him. The stories of Rebecca and Okye are unfortunately very common. Between November 2020 and May 2021, we had in-depth conversations with over 459 people in Uganda as part of our research project. This included 263 women and older persons, often 10 Chased Away and Left to Die