Beyond Sunday Worship: Four Years of Faith-Driven Development at St Matthew Maya

Kimbowa Richard receives a certificate of appreciation from Reverend David K. Ntale (Photo: Ritah, St Matthew)

 In January 2022, I accepted a voluntary appointment as Head of Estates, Development and Planning (EDP) at St Matthew Church of Uganda under Namirembe Diocese. Four years later (just yesterday), as I handed over the mantle, I found myself reflecting not just on projects completed or challenges faced, but on what church leadership truly means in a changing community.

The Estates, Development and Planning function is one of the operational arms of the Church of Uganda, stretching from local congregations to parish, archdeaconry and diocesan levels. It is the engine room for land management, infrastructure development, and income-generating initiatives. In many ways, it determines whether a church remains dependent or becomes sustainable.

When I assumed office, the foundation had already been laid. The congregation had mobilised resources to construct a Sunday School building — still a work in progress. Church land had been leased to two tenants operating kiosks that sold foodstuffs, charcoal and firewood, creating modest but important income streams. There had also been efforts to address cases of land encroachment through diocesan channels, though without resolution.

But beneath those gains were structural challenges.

Part of the church land had been encroached upon. A football pitch belonging to the church had effectively been taken over by individuals who used it regularly without contributing user fees. Processes to resolve land disputes at higher administrative levels were slow. At the same time, the economic aftershocks of COVID-19 were still evident. Household incomes had fallen. Weekly church contributions declined. The pandemic closures that began in March 2020 had disrupted both spiritual life and practical development engagement, and rebuilding confidence took time.

Those early realities forced me to confront an uncomfortable truth: goodwill alone does not sustain institutions. Systems do.

Lessons in Stewardship and Systems

Churches depend heavily on member contributions, fundraising drives, and well-wishers. But financial sustainability is not simply about mobilising money — it is about managing it transparently and strategically. Members give more confidently when they see clear outputs, measurable outcomes, and tangible impact.

Over four years, I learned that finance is important, but ideas are even more powerful. When people feel included in shaping solutions — through brainstorming, planning meetings, and shared decision-making — their ownership increases. Fundraising then becomes a by-product of belief in the vision.

This experience reshaped my understanding of leadership. Creativity, inclusion, and resilience matter more than rigid control. Establishing feedback loops — reporting back to members, refining plans based on community input, documenting progress — builds trust. It also strengthens institutional memory.

The role sharpened my skills in inclusive local planning and in synthesising diverse ideas into coherent development proposals. I came to appreciate that even at parish level, structured planning, budgeting, and reporting are not luxuries. They are essentials.

There is a clear need for continuous capacity building for church leaders serving in administrative roles. Financial literacy, preparation of departmental work plans, narrative reporting, and conflict management are critical skills. Without them, friction between departments grows and development stalls. Strengthening these capacities — particularly at diocesan level — would significantly improve outcomes across congregations.

Linking Faith and Community Development

One of the most important insights from my tenure is that spiritual growth cannot be separated from inclusive community development.

St Matthew Church is located in Nsangi ward, a peri-urban area experiencing rapid demographic and socio-economic change. According to the 2024 national population census, the ward has 15,971 people across 4,547 households. Approximately 7 percent of residents rely on unimproved water sources, and a similar proportion depend on unimproved sanitation facilities. These conditions affect health outcomes, educational performance, and overall productivity.

For a church situated in such a community, development is not optional. It is integral to ministry.

During my tenure, we strengthened internal income-generating processes by increasing kiosk utilisation, moved the Sunday School building closer to completion, and established a fixed asset register for the first time. We also initiated partnerships with local actors such as the Rotary Club of Maya to construct a public toilet facility — a small but meaningful intervention in local sanitation.

Yet challenges remain. Clergy accommodation requires improvement. Departments such as the Mother’s Union, Father’s Union, Youth Fellowship, Christian Men’s Fellowship, Christian Women’s Fellowship and others require sustainable financing models. Land governance issues must be addressed decisively through proper demarcation, utilisation of idle land, and lawful eviction of encroachers. Secure land tenure is foundational for long-term development planning.

Beyond infrastructure, the church must increasingly engage in livelihood-oriented programming: water, sanitation and hygiene education; mobile health outreach; food security initiatives; and local waste management solutions that address both biodegradable waste and plastics. These interventions complement spiritual nourishment rather than compete with it.

A Broader Institutional Imperative

My four-year journey convinced me that local churches must evolve from being purely contribution-dependent to becoming strategically development-oriented institutions. That shift requires three things:

First, institutional discipline — transparent financial systems, documented assets, structured plans, and measurable targets.

Second, inclusive ideation — turning congregational ideas into well-designed, bankable project proposals capable of attracting support from members, partners, and well-wishers.

Third, external partnerships — collaborating confidently with government agencies, local authorities, and non-state actors who share a commitment to community transformation and the Global Goals.

Churches should not shy away from partnerships. Faith institutions remain among the most trusted community structures in Uganda. That trust can be leveraged responsibly to advance health, education, environmental stewardship, and social cohesion.

Closing Reflections

As I handed over office yesterday, I did so with quiet satisfaction. We made progress. We strengthened systems. We learned difficult lessons about governance and sustainability. But more importantly, I grew — as a planner, as a steward, and as a believer in the power of organised community action.

Volunteerism and spirituality intersect in powerful ways. When anchored in accountability and inclusive vision, they can transform institutions.

My hope is that future leaders within Estates, Development and Planning — at St Matthew and across the wider church — will continue building systems that match our spiritual calling with practical excellence.

Faith must inspire worship.

But it must also inspire stewardship, structure, and sustainable development

 

 

Where Water Flows, Opportunity Grows: How Nature Can Drive Inclusion and Prosperity in Uganda

Women coming back from tending their gardens (Photo: UCSD)

Just before sunrise in Kasese District, Sarah Kiiza walks nearly three kilometres to collect water for her family. For years, this journey has been part of her daily routine. The time spent fetching water often meant fewer hours tending her garden of diverse crops and little chance to expand her small roadside produce business. But recently, a community-managed solar-powered water system was installed nearby. Today, Sarah spends less time searching for water and more time growing vegetables, potatoes and cassava that she sells at the local market, increasing her household income and helping pay school fees for her children.

Sarah’s story reflects a broader truth across Uganda and many developing countries: water and the environment are not just natural resources — they are pathways to inclusion, dignity, and prosperity.

Across rural Uganda, agriculture remains the backbone of livelihoods. Yet unpredictable rainfall and prolonged droughts continue to threaten food production. In districts such as Nakasongola and Karamoja, farmers are increasingly adopting rainwater harvesting and small-scale irrigation supported by local cooperatives and development programmes. These solutions allow farmers to grow crops throughout the year, improving household nutrition and stabilising incomes. When communities have reliable access to water, they move from survival farming to enterprise farming, unlocking economic opportunities.

Water ecosystems also support livelihoods beyond agriculture. Along the shores of Lake Victoria, fishing communities depend on the lake for income and food security. However, declining fish stocks and environmental degradation have threatened these livelihoods. In response, some communities are embracing sustainable fishing practices and aquaculture. In Wakiso District, youth groups are investing in fish farming, creating jobs while reducing pressure on natural fish populations. These initiatives demonstrate how environmental stewardship can directly translate into economic growth.

Beyond livelihoods, access to clean water and healthy environments transforms social wellbeing. In many communities, girls often miss school because they must fetch water or suffer from water-related illnesses. When safe water sources are brought closer to communities, school attendance improves, especially among girls. Health centres also benefit from a reliable water supply, improving hygiene and patient care. These changes enhance human capital development along the entire lifecycle, for long-term national development as clearly expounded in Uganda’s National Development Plan (NDP IV).

Inclusion becomes even more powerful when environmental programmes deliberately empower marginalised groups. Women across Uganda are increasingly participating in water user committees and local conservation groups. In Eastern Uganda, women-led wetland restoration initiatives are helping to restore degraded ecosystems while generating income through sustainable harvesting of papyrus and eco-friendly crafts. At the same time, communities are rediscovering indigenous knowledge that has long guided environmental conservation. Traditional wetland protection practices, once overlooked, are now recognised as valuable tools for sustainable resource management.

Uganda also faces growing climate risks, including floods and droughts that disproportionately affect vulnerable communities. Restoring wetlands and protecting watersheds helps reduce flood risks, improve water storage, and protect hydropower generation that supports the national grid power. In rapidly growing urban areas like Kampala, green infrastructure such as restored drainage channels and urban tree planting helps reduce flooding and improve living conditions for low-income residents.

The connection between water, environment, and prosperity is clear. When communities are given a voice in managing natural resources, they become stewards of sustainability and drivers of economic transformation. Investments in water and environmental protection do more than conserve nature; they create jobs, improve health, strengthen education, and build climate resilience.

As we gear up for the Uganda Water and Environment 2026, the path forward lies in treating water and the environment not as challenges to be managed, but as opportunities to be nurtured. Where water flows sustainably, opportunity grows — for families like Sarah’s and for the nation as a whole.

World Wetlands Day 2026: Where Memory Meets Water — Why Indigenous Knowledge Matters for East Africa’s Wetlands

As the mist lifts over the papyrus wetlands of Lake Kyoga, elder Akot begins her morning walk along narrow channels shaped by generations before her. She knows which pools must rest this season, where fishing is forbidden until the rains return, and which reeds can be harvested without weakening the wetland. “These waters remember us,” she says quietly. “And we must remember them.”

On World Wetlands Day 2026, her words carry urgency. Across East Africa, wetlands sustain millions of lives — filtering water, buffering floods, providing water in dry spells, supporting fisheries, and anchoring cultural identity. Long before formal conservation laws, communities across Uganda, Kenya, Tanzania, Rwanda, Burundi, Somalia, DR Congo and South Sudan managed wetlands through Indigenous knowledge systems rooted in observation, respect, and restraint.

Indeed, the 2026 World Wetlands Day theme ‘Wetlands and Traditional Knowledge: Celebrating Cultural Heritage’, highlights the important role of traditional and indigenous knowledge in wetland management and preserving cultural identity. It aims to encourage dialogue and understanding of the connection between wetlands and cultural practices.

Wetlands were not just resources; they were sacred landscapes. Taboos protected breeding grounds. Seasonal calendars governed fishing and grazing. Elders mediated access, ensuring equity and regeneration. These systems preserved biodiversity while reinforcing cultural values and social cohesion.

Today, that balance is under strain.

Pressures on Wetlands — and on Knowledge

Population growth, commercial agriculture, urban expansion, and infrastructure development are rapidly degrading wetlands. In many cases, formal planning frameworks override customary governance, treating wetlands as idle land rather than living systems. Climate change compounds the challenge, disrupting rainfall patterns that once guided seasonal practices.

Equally worrying is the erosion of cultural transmission. Younger generations, educated in systems that neither value nor put emphasis on Indigenous ecological knowledge, are losing connection to wetland stewardship traditions. As knowledge fades, so does the sense of responsibility that sustained wetlands for centuries.

Yet Indigenous knowledge remains deeply relevant. It is place-based, adaptive, and socially legitimate. In the Rufiji Delta, farmers still use flood timing knowledge to cultivate crops without draining wetlands. Around Lake Victoria, customary fishing norms among many tribes, like the Luo community in Kenya; Buganda and Busoga Kingdoms in Uganda — where respected — reduce overexploitation more effectively than enforcement alone. Fortunately, these institutions have unrelenting efforts to pass indigenous knowledge onto children and youths, despite the above pressures.

World Wetlands Day 2026: A Call to Act Differently

The future of East Africa’s wetlands depends on bridging Indigenous and scientific knowledge, not choosing between them. For planners, this requires moving from consultation to co-governance.

Policy Recommendations for National and Subnational Planners

§  Formally recognise Indigenous wetland governance systems
National laws and local ordinances should acknowledge customary rules, sacred sites, and cultural/traditional authorities as legitimate components of wetland management.

§  Embed Indigenous knowledge in planning and Environmental Impact Assessments (EIAs)
Subnational planners should require development projects to document and integrate local ecological knowledge, not merely assess biophysical impacts.

§  Strengthen co-management frameworks
Wetland management committees should include elders, women, youth, and cultural/traditional leaders alongside technical officers, with real decision-making power.

§  Protect community land and wetland tenure
Secure land and resource rights are essential for long-term stewardship. Unclear tenure accelerates degradation and loss of the rich biodiversity that wetlands hold (a lot of which remains unknown to science todate).

§  Invest in knowledge transmission
Support community-led documentation, cultural education, and intergenerational learning programmes linked to schools and local institutions like the diverse cultural institutions across East Africa, youth and women groups, as well as religious institutions.

On this World Wetlands Day 2026, East Africa is reminded that wetlands are not empty spaces waiting to be ‘developed’ into human settlement areas, industrial zones or large-scale farming for rice and other crops. They are storied landscapes, shaped by memory, culture, and care. When planners listen to people like Akot — and design policies that respect what communities already know — wetlands can continue to sustain both nature and identity for generations to come.

  

When Communities Lead: A Personal Reflection on Africa’s Road to 2030 and 2063

 A woman pumps water from a borehole in Nebbi, West Nile (Photo: JEEP)

At dawn in Kisenyi - one of Kampala’s informal settlements, Amina turns the tap beside her home and smiles. Five years ago, she queued for hours at a distant borehole. Today, clean water flows because her community partnered with Kampala City authorities, a local NGO that promotes access to clean and safe water, and a local water company that monitors leaks using simple sensors. It’s a small victory, but it hints at a bigger truth: Africa can turn the tide on the 2030 Agenda and Agenda 2063 when people lead, and institutions align.

Under the theme: 'Turning the tide: Transformative and coordinated actions for the 2030 Agenda and Agenda 2063', the 12th session of the Africa Regional Forum on Sustainable Development (ARFSD-12) will take place on the 28th - 30th April 2026 in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia.

Across the continent, progress accelerates when action is coordinated around lived realities. Clean water and sanitation are not abstract targets; they are about dignity, health, and time—especially for women and girls. In northern Ghana, community-managed water schemes work because they blend public finance with local stewardship. Water user committees collect modest fees, reinvest in maintenance, and hold service providers accountable. The lesson is clear: scale what works by anchoring solutions in communities while strengthening utilities and regulators.

Energy tells a similar story. In rural Malawi, Peter runs a welding shop powered by a solar mini-grid. Reliable electricity turned a subsistence livelihood into a small enterprise, creating jobs and skills. Affordable, clean energy unlocks industry, innovation, and infrastructure when policies de-risk private investment and support local entrepreneurs. Standardised mini-grid regulations, local manufacturing of components, and patient capital can turn Africa’s abundant sun and wind into inclusive growth.

Cities are where these strands converge. In Nairobi and Accra, youth-led start-ups are converting organic waste into biogas and compost, easing pressure on landfills while powering households. Sustainable cities and communities emerge when urban planning integrates transport, housing, waste, and energy—and when informal settlements are part of the plan, not an afterthought. Data from communities, not just satellites, helps cities invest where impact is highest.

Innovation thrives when universities, artisans, and industry collaborate. In Senegal, a makerspace partners with a technical institute to prototype low-cost water meters and energy-efficient stoves. Government procurement provides the first customer, accelerating adoption. This is how Africa builds competitive industries—by backing homegrown solutions with smart policy and predictable demand.

None of this happens in isolation. Global partnerships matter, but they must be equitable. Blended finance that aligns development banks, philanthropies, and local lenders can crowd in capital for water systems, grids, and transport. South–South cooperation speeds learning, while diaspora networks bring skills and markets. Crucially, partnerships should strengthen local institutions and share risk, not export it.

Turning the tide demands coordination: national plans that align budgets with SDGs and Agenda 2063; cities that collaborate with communities; utilities that partner with innovators; and citizens who hold leaders to account. It also requires courage—to reform subsidies, standardise regulations, and invest for the long term.

As the sun sets in Kisenyi, Amina fills her jerrycan in minutes and heads home. Her story is not unique—and that is the point. When Africa centres people, coordinates action, and partners with purpose, the future promised by 2030 and 2063 becomes not a deadline, but a lived reality.