Climate Justice Begins with Her: Investing in Uganda’s Women and Girls for a Resilient Future

A woman using an energy-efficient domestic cookstove after training by JEEP (📷: JEEP)

At sunrise in the drought-prone plains of Karamoja (North Eastern Uganda), 15-year-old Akello lifts a yellow jerrycan onto her head and begins the long walk for water. Each year, the journey grows longer as seasonal streams dry earlier. When the rains finally come, they often arrive in violent bursts—flooding gardens and cutting off roads to schools and health centres. By the time Akello returns home, the school bell has often already rung.

For her, climate change is not a distant global debate. It determines whether she sits in a classroom or spends the morning searching for water.

Across Uganda, women and girls like Akello are on the frontline of climate change. Agriculture remains the backbone of the country’s economy, employing approximately 72% of the labour force and contributing around 24% of the national Gross National Product (GDP); yet, it is heavily dependent on increasingly unpredictable rainfall (World Bank, 2025).

Women make up nearly 80% of the agricultural labour force, but they often have far less access to land, credit, and agricultural extension services than men (FAO, 2023). When drought destroys harvests, or floods wash away crops, it is often women who must find new ways to feed their families, collect water, and care for children and elderly relatives.

It is therefore not by coincidence that the theme for International Women's Day in Uganda is: ‘Scaling up Investment to Accelerate Access to Justice for all Women and Girls in Uganda’

Climate risks in Uganda are intensifying. Over the past five years, 76% of Ugandans have reported experiencing severe heatwaves, and 71% have reported unusually severe droughts, according to Afrobarometer surveys (Afrobarometer, 2025).

Extreme weather events are also becoming more frequent. In 2024 alone, floods, landslides, and other climate-related disasters affected more than 413,000 people and displaced over 78,000 across the country, highlighting the growing humanitarian and development impacts of climate shocks (The New Humanitarian, 2025).

These impacts deepen existing inequalities. Evidence from across East Africa shows that prolonged droughts and economic stress increase risks of school dropout, child marriage, and gender-based violence among adolescent girls (UNICEF, 2023).

Yet vulnerability tells only half the story. Women are also among the most effective leaders of climate adaptation.

Across Uganda, women’s savings groups and cooperatives are already investing in solutions—from agroforestry and soil conservation to clean cooking technologies and climate-smart agriculture. Through resilience initiatives supported by international climate programmes, more than 1,600 women’s groups have mobilised about USD 2.8 million in community savings, supporting local adaptation projects and strengthening household livelihoods (UNFCCC, 2023).

These examples highlight a crucial lesson: climate justice requires intersectional adaptation. Climate policies must recognise that vulnerability is shaped not only by gender, but also by poverty, age, disability, and displacement. Uganda hosts over 1.5 million refugees, many of them women and children living in environmentally fragile settlements where land and water resources are limited (CARE, 2024).

Scaling investment for climate justice, therefore, requires three priorities.

First, expand gender-responsive climate finance that directly supports women-led adaptation initiatives at the community level. Uganda is estimated to require about USD 28 billion in climate adaptation investment by 2030, yet only a fraction of this funding has been secured so far (World Bank, 2025).

Second, strengthen women’s land and property rights, enabling long-term investment in climate-smart agriculture.

Third, invest in girls’ education and climate leadership, equipping young women with the knowledge and skills to lead local sustainable solutions for better energy use, water, tree planting, and others.

Back in Karamoja, Akello still dreams of becoming a teacher. She wants to help children understand changing weather patterns and teach farmers new ways to grow food in a hotter world.

Her dream reflects a deeper truth: climate justice will not be achieved through global pledges alone. It will be realised when investments reach villages, classrooms, and women’s groups—giving every woman and girl the power to adapt, lead, and shape a resilient future.

When Uganda invests in women and girls, it invests in its most powerful force for climate resilience.

From Stench to Strength: Can Kampala Turn Waste into Power?

 Source: https://sciencefr.blogspot.com/2020/07/ways-to-stop-environmental-pollution.html

At 6:30 a.m., Mariam Nakkazi lifts the metal shutter of her tomato kiosk near the crowded Mengo–Kisenyi market in downtown Kampala. The first thing that greets her is not the morning breeze — it is the smell. Rotting tomatoes, crushed mangoes, and fermenting cabbage from yesterday’s unsold stock lie heaped in nearby corners. She instinctively covers her nose before arranging her fresh produce for display.

Trade begins early here. Trucks from upcountry, Kenya, and Tanzania offload produce before sunrise. But alongside the abundance comes accumulation. Waste spills from torn sacks, clogs drainage channels, and lingers in the humid air.

According to the Kampala Capital City Authority (KCCA), the city generates between 1,500 and 2,500 tonnes of solid waste daily, with collection gaps leaving a significant share unmanaged. For Mariam, this is not an abstract statistic. It hangs in the air she breathes, settles on her stall, and quietly threatens her livelihood.

In Kampala’s markets, waste is no longer just a sanitation issue — it is a daily test of how a growing city governs its future.

The Promise: Turning Organic Waste into Power

Unlike many high-income countries that rely heavily on incineration, Uganda’s waste composition makes biological treatment particularly promising. Organic material accounts for an estimated 50–60% of municipal solid waste in Kampala. Market waste, food scraps, and agricultural residues can be converted through anaerobic digestion into biogas for cooking or electricity generation, while producing nutrient-rich compost.

Small-scale digesters piloted in eastern Uganda have demonstrated that community-based systems can reduce firewood use, improve sanitation, and lower household energy costs (OneEarth, 2021). At a larger scale, African cities already offer benchmarks.

The Reppie Waste-to-Energy Plant processes approximately 1,400 tonnes of waste daily and generates around 25 MW of electricity — supplying a meaningful share of Addis Ababa’s power demand (Ethiopian Electric Power, 2022). While not without controversy, it demonstrates that utility-scale waste-to-energy (WTE) infrastructure can operate on the continent.

In Kenya, the Gorge Farm anaerobic digestion plant near Naivasha illustrates how agricultural waste streams can reliably generate renewable energy for agro-industries (Global Recycling Foundation, 2024).

For Uganda — where electricity access has improved but remains uneven — WTE could diversify the energy mix while reducing landfill pressure. It could also create jobs in waste sorting, plant operation, and maintenance, formalising work for informal waste pickers who currently operate with limited protection.

Encouragingly, a partnership led by KCCA, alongside Cenergy Solutions, Homekline, and Khainza Energy, is now underway to convert organic solid waste into biogas and fertiliser. The initiative aims to supply residents with cleaner cooking gas while easing the city’s growing waste burden.

The Pitfalls: Systems Before Technology

Yet here is the hard truth: waste-to-energy succeeds only where systems function.

Effective WTE depends on consistent waste collection, segregation at source, and reliable feedstock supply. In Kampala, household-level sorting remains limited (KCCA, 2023). Mixed, high-moisture waste reduces calorific value, undermines incineration efficiency, and raises operational costs. Without investment in behaviour change, logistics, enforcement, and infrastructure, expensive facilities risk underperformance.

Source separation is often described as difficult, but the deeper issue is structural. Kampala’s current bin systems do not incentivise segregation. Behaviour follows design. Structured pilot programmes in selected communities — with colour-coded bins for organic, plastic, paper, and residual waste — could test participation rates, monitor contamination levels, and scale up based on evidence.

Cost is another critical consideration. Government projections suggest that WTE could contribute modestly to Uganda’s future energy mix by 2040, but at a higher capital cost relative to solar and hydropower alternatives (Ministry of Energy and Mineral Development, 2023). As reflected in planning frameworks such as Uganda’s Fourth National Development Plan (NDP IV, 2025/26–2029/30), WTE is positioned as a complementary renewable technology that requires de-risking, careful financial structuring, and regulatory clarity.

Environmental safeguards are equally essential. Incineration without stringent emissions controls can expose nearby communities to pollutants such as dioxins and particulate matter (UNEP, 2019). For Kampala’s neighbourhoods, any WTE facility must reduce pollution — not relocate it.

People at the Centre

Global south experience offers a clear lesson: community integration determines sustainability. Where informal waste workers are formalised — through cooperatives or contracted supply chains — recycling rates improve and livelihoods are protected (ILO, 2020). Where they are excluded, resistance grows and systems weaken.

For Kampala’s residents, the debate is straightforward. They want cleaner air, safer streets, and reliable energy. Waste-to-energy can contribute to that future — but only if Uganda invests first in governance, transparency, environmental compliance, and public participation.

Technology alone will not solve Kampala’s waste crisis.

But disciplined planning, strong institutions, and people-centred design might just turn rubbish into resilience.

And if the heaps outside Mariam’s stall are replaced by cleaner streets and reliable biogas, she may never speak of circular economy models or energy diversification. She will simply breathe easier — and sometimes, that is where sustainable development truly begins.

Selected References:

· Kampala Capital City Authority (KCCA), 2023 Waste Management Reports.
· World Bank (2018). What a Waste 2.0: A Global Snapshot of Solid Waste Management to 2050.
· UCLG (2022). Waste Composition and Urban Sustainability Reports.
· UNEP (2019). Waste-to-Energy: Considerations for Informed Decision-Making.
· ILO (2020). Informal Waste Workers and Formalisation Studies.
· Global Recycling Foundation (2024). Global Recycling Magazine.
· OneEarth (2021). Community Biogas Case Study, Uganda.
· Ministry of Energy and Mineral Development (April 2023). Energy Policy for Uganda 2023
· Government of Uganda (December 2024). National Development Plan - 2025/26-2029/30

Healing the Land That Heals Us: Conserving Uganda’s Medicinal Plants for Livelihoods and Biodiversity

 

At sunrise in Kayunga District, Sarah Namuli kneels between rows of lemongrass on her small private plot. She crushes a leaf between her fingers and inhales deeply. “This plant treats coughs,” she says. “And now it pays school fees.” For Sarah and thousands of rural households, medicinal and aromatic plants (MAPs) are no longer just part of tradition — they are part of survival.

This year's World Wildlife Day on the 'Medicinal and Aromatic Plants: Conserving Health, Heritage and Livelihoods' is a stark reminder for Uganda to reflect on the human and ecological values, opportunities they offer and constraints faced by these important resources.

Across Uganda, plant-based medicine remains central to everyday health care. The World Health Organisation estimates that approximately 80% of people in developing countries rely on traditional medicine, which is largely derived from plants (WHO, 2013). Uganda’s own National Biodiversity Strategy and Action Plan III (NBSAP III) acknowledges that approximately 80% of Ugandans depend on indigenous medicine, underscoring the social and economic importance of medicinal plant species (NEMA, 2025).

Radio and Television-based advertisements confirm a surge in enterprises that prepare different MAPs-based medicines, beverages and food additives. It is very common to listen to and watch such adverts on popular FM stations and TVs, respectively, in Kampala. Elsewhere, adverts by traditional healers are pinned on electric poles and buildings across public places in many cities and towns, listing the number of ailments they can “treat” using herbs.

However, there are challenges in this as practitioners have to seek approval of the Council under the Traditional and Complementary Medicines Act (2019). This Act regulates the sector and prohibits practitioners of traditional medicine and complementary medicine from advertising their practice unless the contents of the adverts are authenticated and authorised by the council.  

Nevertheless, during the COVID19 pandemic, many families in Uganda had to fall back on nature for potential cough solutions through the use of plant concoctions.

In addition, the use of MAPs for religious and cultural purposes remains strong. In my community, the incense tree (Muwafu / Canarium schweinfurtthii) is much sought after as its resin is highly commercialised. This has resulted in one of the mature trees being heavily debarked and has literally dried up.  Cinnamon (Budalasini/ Cinnamomum zeylanicum) is another tree that is literally commercialised, as its bark and leaves are used to flavour tea and for culinary purposes. The good news is that it is now increasingly planted as a backyard tree or intercropped with other crops.

Scientific studies show just how rich Uganda’s ethno-botanical knowledge is. Research in central Uganda documented over 130 medicinal plant species used to treat more than 50 ailments (Tabuti et al., 2012). In Rukungiri District, 48 plant species were recorded for malaria treatment alone (Asiimwe et al., 2023). A broader survey across 10 districts identified more than 120 species used in cancer management (Omara et al., 2023).

Yet there is a serious concern: nearly 90% of medicinal plants traded in Uganda are harvested from the wild, rather than cultivated (NEMA, 2025). This places enormous pressure on forests, wetlands, and grasslands — especially as commercial demand grows. 

Opportunity on Private Land

For private landholders like Sarah, MAP cultivation offers three major opportunities.

First, income diversification. Lemongrass, aloe vera, moringa, eucalyptus, African basil (Mujaaja) and rosemary can fetch higher returns per kilogram than staple crops, especially when processed for culinary purposes, essential oils or herbal teas.

Second, climate resilience. Many MAP species, like aloe vera and cactuses, tolerate drought and poor soils, making them suitable for marginal land increasingly affected by climate variability. Lemon grass is an excellent plant for soil and water conservation on bunds - holding rainwater, giving it time to penetrate the soil.

Third, value addition and enterprise development. With basic drying racks or small distillation units, farmers can move up the value chain and access niche natural health and cosmetic markets. This is key in improving livelihoods while promoting conservation of useful plants and the ecosystems in which they thrive.

Where farmers organise into cooperatives — as emerging groups are doing in Wakiso and Kampala  — they improve bargaining power and quality control.

Constraints and Conservation Risks

But expansion without structure is risky.

Farmers face unstable markets, limited technical guidance, and inconsistent quality standards. Land tenure insecurity discourages investment in perennial species. Most critically, unsustainable wild harvesting threatens species such as Prunus africana and Warburgia ugandensis, both under conservation concern (NEMA, 2025).

Uganda’s NBSAP III (2025–2030) directly addresses these risks. It calls for sustainable use of biodiversity, domestication of high-value species, equitable benefit-sharing and strengthened biodiversity monitoring systems (NEMA, 2025). The strategy aligns Uganda with the Kunming-Montreal Global Biodiversity Framework and provides a clear policy anchor for conserving medicinal plants while promoting livelihoods.

A Clear Call to Action

Uganda stands at a decisive moment.

If MAPs remain largely extractive, biodiversity loss will accelerate. But if cultivation, conservation, and commercialisation are aligned, medicinal plants can anchor a green rural economy.

Here is what must happen:

• Domesticate priority medicinal species on private and community land to reduce forest pressure.
• Invest in farmer training and extension services focused on propagation, sustainable harvesting, value addition and quality standards.
• Strengthen cooperatives and traceability systems to ensure fair pricing and market access.
• Implement NBSAP III commitments fully, linking biodiversity conservation with rural enterprise development.

Sarah looks across her plot and says quietly, “If we protect these plants, they will protect us.” She is right. Uganda’s medicinal and aromatic plants are not just economic commodities — they are living heritage. Conserving them is not optional. It is a responsibility owed to future generations.

References

• Asiimwe, S. et al. (2023). Ethno botanical survey of medicinal plants used in malaria treatment in Rukungiri District, Uganda.
• National Environment Management Authority (NEMA). (2025). National Biodiversity Strategy and Action Plan III (2025–2030).
• Omara, T. et al. (2023). Medicinal plants used in cancer management in Uganda.
• Tabuti, J.R.S. et al. (2012). Traditional medicine use in Uganda.
• World Health Organisation (WHO). (2013). WHO Traditional Medicine Strategy 2014–2023

From Jerry cans to Justice: Securing Water and Sanitation for Eastern Africa’s Agenda 2063

Women carrying water to their homes in Mubende (Photo: UCSD)

At sunrise in eastern Uganda, Sarah, a mother of three, sets out before breakfast with a cracked plastic jerry slung over her shoulder, walking nearly an hour to the nearest borehole. The water she collects will be used for drinking, cooking, washing, and watering her backyard vegetable garden, which supplements her family’s daily food needs. But Sarah knows this steady supply isn’t a given — shortages are common, and sick children from water-borne diseases still visit the local clinic. Her experience reflects a challenge that stretches across Eastern Africa and the entire continent.

Sarah’s daily routine mirrors a continental reality that African leaders have now placed at the centre of transformation. The 39th Ordinary Session of the Assembly of Heads of State and Government of the African Union has elevated water and sanitation as a strategic continental priority for 2026, as the Year of Assuring Sustainable Water Availability and Safe Sanitation Systems to Achieve the Goals of Agenda 2063. This decision signals recognition that water security is foundational to delivering on African Union Agenda 2063 — Africa’s blueprint for inclusive growth, prosperity, and resilience.

The Scale of the Challenge

According to data presented in AU policy discussions ahead of the 2026 theme year, over 400 million people in Africa still lack access to adequate drinking water, while more than 700 million lack safely managed sanitation services (African Union, 2024). These gaps are particularly pronounced in rural and peri-urban communities across Eastern Africa.

Unsafe water and poor sanitation contribute to preventable diseases, lost productivity, and school absenteeism — especially for girls. Without reliable water systems, health centres struggle with infection control, farmers face crop losses during drought, and households spend hours each day securing basic supplies. These realities directly slow progress toward Agenda 2063’s aspiration of a healthy and well-nourished Africa.

Emerging Opportunities

Yet the 2026 AU theme creates momentum. It aligns with the Africa Water Vision 2063 and Policy, adopted to guide long-term, climate-resilient and inclusive water governance across member states. The Vision calls for integrated water resources management, strengthened institutions, sustainable financing, and regional cooperation — critical for Eastern Africa’s shared river basins.

There is growing political attention at the highest level. AU-convened Heads of State and Government forums on water and sanitation are pushing countries to translate commitments into measurable investment plans. This high-level political ownership presents a major opportunity: when water is treated as economic infrastructure — not merely a social service — financing tends to follow.

Technological innovation also offers promise. Solar-powered boreholes, digital monitoring of utilities, decentralised wastewater treatment systems, and climate-smart irrigation can improve reliability and reduce costs when paired with strong community management structures. For example, through an Agenda 2063 Flagship intervention - the Africa Climate-Proof Water Systems Through the Great Green Wall and Climate Adaptation Programs, promoting small-scale water harvesting and solar-powered irrigation for smallholders is crucial and should be fast-tracked based on emerging lessons.

Regional cooperation is another opportunity. Eastern Africa’s trans boundary basins require coordinated governance to prevent conflict, manage climate variability, and ensure equitable access. Agenda 2063 explicitly emphasises peace, shared prosperity, and sustainable resource use — all of which depend on effective water diplomacy. As water security underpins trade, agriculture, manufacturing, and agro-processing, which are key sectors of the African Continental Free Trade Area (AfCFTA), it is also important more than ever to formalise joint water allocation and drought contingency agreements in all transboundary basins.

Persistent Constraints

However, constraints remain formidable. Climate change is intensifying droughts and floods, undermining infrastructure and disrupting fragile systems (African Union, 2024). Population growth is outpacing service expansion in many cities. Financing gaps persist, and maintenance of rural water systems remains weak due to limited technical capacity and fragmented institutional mandates.

Inequality is perhaps the most stubborn constraint. Rural households like Sarah’s continue to bear the heaviest burden, despite continental commitments. Without stronger accountability mechanisms and inclusive local participation — particularly of women and youth — infrastructure gains risk being uneven and unsustainable.

A Continental Turning Point

The AU’s designation of 2026 as the Year of Water and Sanitation is more than symbolic. It is an invitation to act decisively. For Eastern Africa, sustainable water availability and safe sanitation systems are not optional — they are prerequisites for economic transformation, climate resilience, gender equity, and public health.

If political will is matched with financing, innovation, and community leadership, Sarah’s three children may grow up in a region where clean water flows reliably — not as a daily struggle, but as a guaranteed right under Agenda 2063.

References

• African Union (2024). Declaration of 2026 as the Year of “Assuring Sustainable Water Availability and Safe Sanitation Systems to Achieve the Goals of Agenda 2063.”
• African Union Summit communications and pre-summit briefings on water and sanitation statistics (2024).
• African Union. Agenda 2063: The Africa We Want (Framework Document).
• African Union. Africa Water Vision 2063 and Policy (Adopted continental framework).
• African Union. Heads of State and Government Forum on Water and Sanitation, official communications (2024)

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.