UGANDA'S BUDGET PLAN FACES HARD TRUTHS

Today, June 12th, 2025, Finance Minister Matia Kasaija will rise before Parliament to read Uganda’s national budget, weighing in at a hefty sh72 trillion. 

That number alone is staggering. Two decades ago, Uganda’s national budget stood at just over sh4 trillion. This represents a compounded annualised growth of about 15 percent  or more than twice the average annual growth of the economy duing the same period. 

In 2005, the government operated with a modest financial envelope largely dependent on donor aid and constrained by a narrow tax base. Fast forward twenty years, and the budget has grown more than seventeen-fold—an extraordinary leap that reflects both inflation and a genuine broadening of the economy.

This growth tells a story. Some of it is positive: domestic revenue collection has improved, the private sector has deepened, and public infrastructure has expanded. But it also tells of our growing appetite for debt, recurrent expenditure, and a state machinery that has ballooned over time—sometimes without matching output.

The National Budget Framework Paper (NBFP) that underpins this year’s budget is heavy on aspiration. Its theme—“Full Monetization of Uganda’s Economy through Commercial Agriculture, Industrialization, Expanding and Broadening Social Services, Digital Transformation and Market Access”—ticks all the right boxes. It is a bold vision of structural transformation, if ever there was one. The question is: do the numbers, and more importantly the execution, match the rhetoric?

On paper, government aims to propel the economy past  growth next year, en route to double-digit expansion once commercial oil production comes onstream. The economy is projected to hit sh250 trillion by 2025/26, with per capita income rising to $1,339. The macro outlook is buoyant, inflation is below three percent, and exports are rebounding. But if Uganda has learned anything over the past two decades, it's that development does not reside in GDP forecasts. It lies in tarred roads that go somewhere, school roofs that don’t leak, and health centres that have medicine and staff. That’s where the real audit begins.

The NBFP places infrastructure front and centre, as it always does. Roads, electricity transmission, the Standard Gauge Railway, and the near-complete Kabalega Airport all receive top billing. These are necessary investments, no doubt. But Uganda has a troubling history of building things that don’t work—or that work only after years of delays. The Karuma Dam still haunts our planning psyche, completed on paper yet underutilised . Projects are announced, budgeted, and even launched, but coordination and oversight remain our Achilles’ heel. The issue is not money. It is follow-through.

Meanwhile, agriculture—the lifeline of the majority of Ugandans—remains scandalously underfunded. Just 2.5 percent of the budget is earmarked for a sector that employs over 70 percent of the population and contributes 24 percent to GDP. The NBFP speaks earnestly about agro-industrialisation, value addition, irrigation, and warehouse receipt systems. 

But the numbers don’t back the talk. 

Farmers still lack extension services, affordable credit, and basic infrastructure. If we are serious about lifting people out of poverty, especially in rural areas, this imbalance must be corrected. You don’t monetize an economy by starving its core.

Then there’s the issue that quietly cripples every budget cycle—youth unemployment. Uganda is the second-youngest country in the world. Every year, over half a million youths enter the job market, and most find no foothold. The NBFP gestures at solutions—the Parish Development Model, Emyooga, UDB credit—but these are fragmented interventions. What’s missing is a national employment strategy that connects education to opportunity, apprenticeships to actual jobs, and the informal sector to scalable enterprises. We keep trying to solve a structural problem with project-level fixes. It hasn’t worked before, and it won’t now.

But no problem is more corrosive to our fiscal credibility than the domestic arrears overhang. 

As the Finance Minister delivers his sh72trillion speech, it’s worth remembering that over sh13.8 trillion in unpaid government bills lurk in the shadows. This includes overdue payments to contractors, suppliers, pensioners, and court awardees. The NBFP proposes to clear sh1.4 trillion this financial year—an improvement from the laughable sh200 billion previously allocated. But even at that rate, it would take a decade to clear the current stock, assuming not a single new shilling is added to the arrears pile—which, of course, is fantasy.

This isn't just a bookkeeping issue. Domestic arrears are strangling the private sector. Businesses that trusted government contracts are folding. Banks are tightening lending. Job creation is stalling. It’s a silent crisis—one that the government has so far been unwilling to confront head-on. The fact that we continue to accrue arrears even as we trumpet revenue growth speaks to deeper issues of fiscal discipline and accountability. If Uganda were a company, it would be on the verge of default.

And yet we lose just as much—if not more—to corruption. According to estimates, Uganda bleeds over sh2 trillion annually through procurement fraud, ghost payments, and tax evasion. That’s nearly equivalent to what we spend on the roads budget. Every year, the Auditor General uncovers the same rot. Every year, we shrug. Until we make examples of the corrupt—not through commissions of inquiry, but through convictions and asset recovery—our budgetary ambitions will remain castles built on sand.

There are bright spots. The government’s push for digital transformation is timely and potentially transformative. Fintech and mobile money are already revolutionising access to financial services. If supported by smart regulation, public investment in digital infrastructure, and robust consumer protections, Uganda could leapfrog decades of development barriers. But again, the follow-through must be real. It’s not enough to build an app or lay fibre optic cable. We need to ensure that farmers, traders, students, and health workers can actually use these tools to improve their livelihoods.

And then, of course, there’s oil. With Tilenga and Kingfisher past the halfway mark and the EACOP progressing, first oil is a real prospect in the coming financial year. But this is a double-edged sword. Oil can lift us, or it can wreck us. If we allow oil revenues to feed bloated bureaucracies and politically driven consumption, we will have wasted the opportunity of a generation. If, on the other hand, we invest in human capital, infrastructure, and industrial transformation, we might yet chart a different course. It’s a choice—not an inevitability.

So as the Finance Minister delivers the sh72 trillion budget this afternoon, we would do well to listen not just to what is said, but to what is not. We should scrutinise not only the allocations, but the arrears. Not only the promises, but the history. Because ultimately, budgets are not about figures. They are about faith. Faith that when government says it will build a road, the road will be built. That when a contractor finishes a job, he will be paid. That when money is allocated to a school, children will learn.

Until we restore that faith, even sh72 trillion won’t be enough.

TWO FOR THE PRICE OF ONE: MTN'S FINTECH SPIN-OFF COULD BE UGANDA'S SMARTEST INVESTMENT YET OR ....

There’s a quiet disruption underway at MTN Uganda, and it’s dressed in the language of shareholder value, strategic clarity, and platform transformation. 

But while the telecom giant’s planned spin-off of its mobile money arm into MTN New FinCo has been marketed as a win-win for investors, a closer reading suggests that shareholders—especially institutional ones—need to bring both their optimism and their caution to the table.

Let’s start with the promise. MTN Uganda’s fintech operations—anchored in MTN Mobile Money (MoMo)—are being carved out into a new entity, MTN New FinCo, which will eventually be listed separately on the Uganda Securities Exchange. Shareholders of MTN will maintain an economic interest in the new company through a Trust, and later receive direct shares when the new entity lists in 3 to 5 years.

From a growth story perspective, the pitch is compelling. MoMo has evolved from a side hustle to a fintech powerhouse, posting sh250 billion in profits in 2024 alone. Projected forward, a bull-case model sees MTN New FinCo dividends rising by 18 percent annually and share prices doubling within five years of listing. Investors who buy MTN stock now stand to benefit from both the telecom cash cow and the high-growth fintech colt.

But those who believe in the power and integrity of public markets must be both thoughtful and a bit careful. For all its financial appeal, this is not a straightforward spin-off. It is a restructuring built around legal complexity, and one that quietly shifts a large part of MTN’s value into a structure that lacks the full accountability and transparency of a publicly listed company.

Here’s the issue: rather than listing MTN MoMo directly by introduction—a path that would have preserved the public ownership and disclosure framework—MTN has chosen to transfer MoMo’s operations into MTN New FinCo, a private company. Minority shareholders’ interests in this new company will be held not directly, but through a trust. This trust is not listed, nor is it subject to the Capital Markets Authority (CMA) or Uganda Securities Exchange (USE) disclosure rules.

This might seem like a clever workaround—especially with promises of future unbundling—but it introduces significant risk and uncertainty. Moving a public company’s most valuable asset into a private trust structure

creates opacity and erodes investor protections in ways that should give shareholders pause.

Among the most pressing concerns:

• Governance Gaps: The trust is unlikely to meet the governance standards required of listed entities. Its memorandum and articles of association (memarts) will not be subject to CMA review or public oversight.

• Disclosure Loopholes: MTN New FinCo, being a private company, will not be bound by the same continuous disclosure obligations as listed firms. Investors may no longer receive timely, detailed financial reports or material updates.

• Loss of Minority Protections: Listed companies are required to protect minority shareholder rights. These safeguards—including voting rights, access to information, and equitable treatment—may be diluted or lost entirely in the trust structure.

• Board Composition and Accountability: The board governing MTN New FinCo is not the board that investors originally backed when they bought MTN shares. The separation breaks the continuity of oversight and strategic alignment.

• Regulatory Ambiguity: Can institutional investors like NSSF even hold ownership in a trust structure? Pension funds are typically restricted from investing in unregulated vehicles. This raises real questions about whether Uganda’s largest institutional investor can maintain its exposure to the MoMo business under the new framework.

In effect, shareholders are being asked to trade direct ownership of a high-growth public asset for a beneficial interest in a private one, held on trust until such time as the new company lists. Even with mechanisms like the “dividend adjustment trust” to make up for tax disadvantages, the structure still introduces governance and liquidity risks that public market investors do not typically sign up for.

To be fair, MTN’s motivations are not malicious. The company is executing on its “Ambition 2025” strategy, which aims to unlock platform value and attract fintech-focused partners. A standalone MTN New FinCo could, in theory, bring in strategic investors, leverage fintech expertise, and scale faster.

But this could have been done without eroding the public character of MoMo. A listing by introduction—using the existing MTN MoMo structure—would have retained all the benefits of transparency, liquidity, and investor protections, while still allowing the business to attract capital and partnerships.

Instead, what we have is a carefully engineered workaround that takes a key public asset and places it into a private holding structure, promising to “make things right” in a few years. For long-term investors—especially those who prize corporate governance and transparency—this trade-off deserves scrutiny.

That’s not to say there’s no opportunity here. 

But to fully capitalise on this opportunity, investors must go in with eyes wide open. They must advocate for stronger governance of the trust, demand clear disclosure commitments, and seek legal clarity on how their rights will be protected in the interim period.

Uganda’s capital markets need success stories, yes. But they also need discipline, transparency, and trust—not just in the financial sense, but in the institutional one.

MTN’s fintech spin-off could still be that story. But only if the complexity doesn’t obscure the core principle: that public wealth should not be privatized by proxy.

SURPRISE! SUPRISE! UGANDA ECONOMY IS GROWING

The last four decades have been the longest streak of economic growth in the history of Uganda. And in the state of the nation address on Thursday President Yoweri Museveni reported that the poverty levels have continued to reduce and the wealth disparities in the economy continue to narrow.

Quoting the most recent National Household Survey Report by Uganda bureau of statistics (UBOS) Museveni said the national poverty line – people living on a dollar a day, had fallen to 16 percent of the population from 20 percent four years ago.

He also reported an improvement in the country’s gini coefficient, which measures the extent of income inequality is down three percentage points to 38 percent from 41 percent in 2020.

The reduction in poverty levels and income inequality are important, because what else is economic growth for than an improvement in the overall welfare of the people, so improvements in this last measures are always welcome.

The Uganda economy grows even in our sleep. The GDP is now at about $60b compared to $4b at the beginning of the NRM adventure in 1986. According to the World Bank the Uganda economy was just under $10b in 20 years ago in 2005 and about $32b a decade ago.

A lot the early economic growth until about 2000 came from reconstruction and rehabilitation before we started adding new capacity.

By ensuring security, adopting a market economy and investing heavily in infrastructure – some estimates put this at, at least a billion dollars annually since 2012, the government has unlocked private sector initiative, unleashed new production and improved access to markets. This has made continued economic growth a mathematical certainty.

The challenge with the market is that it tends to concentrate wealth in a few hands, it is up to government to redistribute this wealth through taxation and not by handouts, to improve the capacity of more and more people to benefit from the macroeconomic growth.

The story is told of how former Tanzanian President Julius Nyerere was trying to convince his Kenyan counterpart Jomo Kenyatta to adopt socialism to which Kenyatta replied, “So you want to distribute poverty?”   

It is not a chicken and egg question. It is clear that to uplift the general lot of the people the economy has to grow first.

That being said its plain for all to see that government needs to do more. It finds itself in the unenviable position of the cook serving Oliver Twist, who wants more.

What is true however is that the trajectory is onward and upward, however much we who are living through it, may think progress is moving too slowly for our liking.

In his speech Museveni outlined 10 things his government will continue to do to ensure continued economic growth and more equitable distribution of these gains to everybody.

At the top of the list was ensuring continued peace and security, accelerating industrialization, encouraging industrialization and increasing market access regionally and internationally.

He also added skilling of youth, improved revenue collection, restructuring government to rationalize spending and the continued drive to move the rural economy away from subsistence to commercial production.

I was sad that fighting corruption came a lowly ninth and the repayment of domestic arrears was not touched on or at least was not deemed important enough to get specific mention.

While in a cynical way, corruption has helped keep the urban elite onside politically over the 40 years, it has slowed the improvement in the general wellbeing of the people by affecting service delivery. Government projects are either slowly, badly or not executed, in the process lining the pockets of the connected and denying the everyday man the chance to advance his lot.

Going by the improvement in the poverty numbers, it is clear that we are all rising with the tide of general economic growth, it is no time to seat on our laurels.

Two weeks ago I had chance to be in the Nakivubo area. Whereas the common narrative in bars and in our various meeting areas is that the economy is not doing well, I witnessed no sign of despondency and hopelessness. Downturn is a heaving mass of activity, which told me that while things are tough the general population can see light at the end of the tunnel, otherwise how do you explain that thriving activity, unprompted by whips and threats?

 

UGANDA’S LOOMING DIGITAL DEBT TRAP

Digital lending in Uganda—fast, frictionless, and seemingly harmless, has become as easy as sending airtime.

But behind the sleek USSD codes and app interfaces lies a new kind of financial pressure cooker: one where convenience masks crippling interest rates, and the cost of borrowing can quietly spiral out of control.

According to a 2023 report released last year by the Uganda Bankers’ Association and Asigma Capital—Digital Lending in Uganda: Series 1 – Unravelling the Demand Side—the demand for digital loans is exploding, especially among youth and informal workers. These loans, offered via mobile apps and codes, promise speed. But the trade-off is steep. Most digital lenders—licensed under the Tier IV Microfinance and Moneylenders Act—charge between 5% and 10% interest per month, with some even higher. That dwarfs the typical 2% monthly rate from traditional bank loans.

The UBA-Asigma report found that most digital borrowers don’t fully understand what they’re signing up for. The repayment terms aren’t always clearly spelled out, and hidden charges lurk behind every screen. For students, market vendors, and gig workers with irregular income, it often feels like they’re borrowing from a system designed for them to fail. And yet, because banks remain inaccessible—slow, rigid, full of forms—they keep coming back. Because when the landlord is calling and the fridge is empty, a fast loan now outweighs any regrets later.

The irony is that digital lending is meant to solve exclusion. But when borrowers are hit with sky-high charges and poor transparency, it becomes a new kind of exclusion—one where access doesn’t equal fairness. The sector is growing, but so is the risk of widespread over-indebtedness, especially in a population where financial literacy remains low.

Kenya’s experience should serve as a lesson. As the birthplace of M-Pesa and a pioneer of mobile money-driven credit, Kenya has seen an explosion in digital lending services over the past decade. At one point, over 120 lending apps were operating in the country, many of them unregulated. The result? Millions of Kenyans blacklisted on credit reference bureaus for defaulting on small digital loans—some as little as KSh 200.

The outcry forced the Kenyan government to step in. In 2021, the Central Bank of Kenya amended its laws to bring digital lenders under its supervision, mandating licensing, consumer protection rules, and interest rate transparency. Kenya’s experience is a cautionary tale: digital credit without strong guardrails can wreak more financial havoc than it prevents.

Meanwhile, traditional banks in Uganda are watching the fintech storm from across their mahogany desks. According to J. Samuel Richards’ Uganda Banking Sector Performance 2024, the sector has grown steadily, reaching UGX 54 trillion in total assets. But the top five banks control more than 55% of those assets and over 66% of profits. It’s a club with few members and a high barrier to entry. What’s more, 11 banks have non-performing loans that exceed 10% of their equity, a sign that not everything is as solid as it seems behind the polished branch counters.

If traditional banks are feeling cornered, it’s because they are. Not just by fintech lenders, but by telecoms—especially mobile money giants like MTN. MTN Mobile Money made UGX 250 billion in after-tax profits in 2024. That’s more than Absa Bank, with far fewer assets. With 13.8 million active users, mobile money has leapfrogged traditional banking, becoming the default financial tool for millions of Ugandans.

That shift is no longer theoretical. It’s real. The financial sector is finally starting to understand that access, not marble floors and leather chairs, is what really matters. The telecoms didn’t just offer products—they offered proximity...

In our rush to digitise credit, we’ve skipped a few crucial steps. Like making sure people understand what they’re borrowing. Like regulating lenders who operate in the digital shadows. Like ensuring that the promise of inclusion doesn’t become a trap wrapped in an app.

So what do we do?

Start with transparency. Borrowers should never have to guess how much they owe. Digital lenders must display interest rates, fees, and penalties in plain language—not buried in terms and conditions that nobody reads. Then there’s pricing. It’s time to move toward risk-based lending. If someone has a clean borrowing record, they deserve better rates. The data exists—use it to reward good behaviour, not punish it.

Financial literacy can’t be an afterthought either. Borrowing money should come with clear, digestible information—delivered in the same channels the loans are offered. If we can sell loans by SMS, we can educate by SMS too.

And regulators need to step up, fast. The Uganda Microfinance Regulatory Authority and Bank of Uganda must enforce rules that protect borrowers without stifling innovation. Sandboxes are one option—safe spaces for fintechs to test products under oversight. But more than tools, regulators need urgency. Because the digital debt clock is ticking.

Uganda is riding a digital finance wave that’s reshaping everything—from how we buy chapati to how we pay school fees. But if we don’t steer the ship, we may end up drifting into a financial storm. The revolution has arrived, but without fairness, transparency, and education, we risk replacing one set of barriers with another.

Yes, access matters. But access to a trap is not progress. Uganda’s digital lending boom must work for the many—not just the few who built the platforms. The money may come fast. But if we’re not careful, so will the regret.

UGANDA’S BANKING INDUSTRY: FAT PROFITS, THIN MARGINS AND A FORK IN THE ROAD

Uganda’s banks are in rude health—or so it seems at first glance.

According to a recent report by JSR Consulting, total commercial banking assets stood at UGX54 trillion at the close of 2024, having grown at an annual average of 11% since 2018. The numbers track closely with GDP growth over the same period, suggesting the sector has been floating comfortably on the tide of overall economic expansion. But scratch beneath the surface and the picture becomes more nuanced—part triumph, part trouble, and a whole lot of transformation on the horizon.

First, the good news. Profits are booming. The JSR report shows that net profits across the banking sector more than doubled between 2018 and 2024, rising from UGX751 billion to UGX1.63 trillion. Interest income, fees, commissions—all up. Bank shareholders have reason to smile.

But the spoils aren’t exactly evenly shared. As JSR points out, five banks—Stanbic, Centenary, Absa, Equity and DFCU—account for a staggering 66% of the industry’s profits and control 55% of total assets. Stanbic alone accounted for nearly 30% of profits. It’s clear: in Uganda’s banking sector, scale pays. The big are getting bigger. The rest are fighting for scraps.

That inequality extends to cost structures. JSR’s analysis reveals that the average cost-to-income ratio in the industry stands at 60%, with only a handful of institutions managing to keep it under 50%. Most

banks are groaning under the weight of high overheads—costs of legacy systems, bloated staffing, and real estate.

In an era when customers are increasingly digital-first, this reliance on brick-and-mortar infrastructure is quickly becoming an expensive burden.

Return on equity also tells the story of an uneven playing field. The larger banks—again, Stanbic, Centenary, Absa—enjoy ROEs north of 20%, while many smaller banks languish in single digits or worse. As the JSR report rightly notes, size matters.

It’s not just profitability and scale where disparities emerge. Asset quality is increasingly a concern. The JSR report highlights that the average non-performing loans to equity ratio is 11%, but individual bank figures range wildly—from 0% to a worrisome 51%. Even with high capital buffers, which the report confirms are well above the regulatory minimum of 12.5%, such levels of risk could eat into future profits if not managed carefully.

In the face of this uncertainty, banks have continued to flock to government securities. Loans and advances, which once made up 45% of bank assets, have now dropped to 41%, while investments in treasury instruments have risen to 28%. Government paper has been the safe harbour. But that harbour may no longer be as lucrative. JSR warns that as yields on government securities continue to slide, banks will have little choice but to pivot back to private sector lending.

That pivot, however, comes with its own challenges. Lending to the real economy—especially SMEs and the informal sector—is messy, costly, and risky. But it’s also where the growth is. To thrive, banks will need to invest in better risk models, credit analytics, and digital channels that can reach the customer segments traditionally left behind.

The JSR report is particularly clear-eyed about the biggest looming disruptor: fintech. Telecom-led financial services, mobile wallets, and agent banking have already eaten into the banks’ turf. Digital-first customers are increasingly bypassing traditional banks for faster, cheaper, and more convenient alternatives. JSR flags this as a key threat—and rightly so. The banks that still see fintech as a threat rather than a partner may not be around to learn the lesson a second time.

What’s more, the report foresees continued consolidation. With 25 licensed commercial banks, many of them small and inefficient, the logic for mergers and acquisitions is growing stronger. Regulatory pressure could accelerate the trend, especially if some institutions fail to keep up with capital or compliance requirements.

And then there’s inclusion. The JSR data shows that banks offering microfinance products—typically targeting the unbanked or underbanked—recorded significantly higher net interest margins, some as high as 35%. But these products are still a sideshow for many large banks. There’s a massive opportunity here: mobile-based lending, simplified KYC processes, and credit scoring based on alternative data could bring millions more into the financial fold.

So what lies ahead?

The report projects continued growth in banking assets, potentially crossing UGX100 trillion by 2030. But future success won’t be about balance sheet size alone. It will depend on a bank’s ability to adapt to a new model—leaner, digital-first, customer-centric. The winners will be those that embrace partnerships with fintechs, open banking frameworks, and embedded finance models. Even environmental, social, and governance (ESG) considerations will come to define lending policies and capital access.

Regulation, too, is expected to evolve. JSR anticipates tighter oversight on cybersecurity, digital transactions, and cross-border flows. Capital adequacy rules may become more stringent for systemically important banks. There is even scope for innovation-friendly policy to support green financing, sandbox experimentation, and broader digital integration.

Ultimately, Uganda’s banking sector is at a crossroads.

The model that delivered growth and stability over the past decade—one rooted in risk-free government lending, branch-led customer acquisition, and fee-based income—is fast becoming obsolete. The new model will demand technological agility, credit risk innovation, and meaningful financial inclusion.

The JSR report offers both a diagnosis and a roadmap. Whether banks heed its message could determine not just who wins in the market, but whether banking in Uganda remains relevant at all. Because in the financial game of the future, it’s not the biggest or oldest players that win—it’s the most adaptable.

NICK KOTCH: TRIBUTE TO A GREAT MENTOR AND AN EVEN GREATER MAN

NICK KOTCH recruited signed off on my recruoitment into Reuters those many years ago. A young business journalist, he was asking to be an all round correspondent for Reurters in Uganda. 

I am embarassed to say I turned down an initail offer to join Reuters, because I could not be bothered writing about politics and society. Thank God he never gave up on me. I will be forever be grateful for the opportunity it gave me to broaden my perspectives and see the bigger picture.

I admired his commentary and try -- badly to emulate his thought process.

RIP  Nick Kotch

BODAS A TEST FOR MARKET ECONOMICS

Last week I had reason to drive down Bombo road, onto Kampala road before turning off onto Entebbe Road.

I cannot remember the last time I did this. I do not think I will be doing it ever again.

Driving on our capital main thoroughfare, is a nightmare of  hundreds (and I fear I understate this) of boda bodas criss crossing, weaving, ducking and generally causing hypertension on that dual lane carriageway.

Add to that the trucks loading or offloading this or that merchandise, taxis starting and stopping without warning, pedestrians jaywalking all over the place and you really have to wonder. The horror.

Those were my initial thoughts, but when I sat down and tried to make sense of it calmly, I could not help but marvel at how the market works.

First off the boda bodas are responding to a need, a need for transportation, in a city without mass transportation services. They are responding to a need for quick and inexpensive movement in a city clogged with cars...

The urgent need for their regulation is understandable, not least because they have become a power onto themselves, see Wandegeya and Jinja road intersections. But we have to be careful not to throw out the baby with the bathwater.

When I looked in my archives I found a pre-covid article about a Safe Boda end of year party. Hundreds of riders had congregated at Lugogo Cricket oval for day long reveling with family and friends. I remember being in awe at how the company had aggregated all these numbers under one roof – it was rumoured at the time there were about 10,000 SafeBoda Riders, and in doing so providing employment, safer transport and financial inclusion.

But only last week I read another article about Mogo, which has carved out a niche for itself in financing the purchase of motorbikes for boda riders. According to the story, in the last two years they have financed 30,000 bike purchases but since their inception towards the tail end of the Covid, they have helped finance the purchase of  half a million bikes around the country.

For those of us looking from the outside, this number seems like a stretch, but not so much so when you factor in the hundreds, maybe thousands of boda bodas Uganda police has impounded, with little effect on the overall industry.

I remember before Covid thinking, the boda boda industry was a bubble waiting to burst, going by the number of riders I saw not having a fare. I guestimated that at least a third of bodas had a rider only, no passenger. My thinking at the time was that the industry was gearing up for a major correction, as more and more people bought bodas but the market was getting saturated and would prove less viable for entrepreneurs.

I suspect it is not as lucrative as it may have been 20 years ago for the first movers. But like Malthus, the 18^th century economist who warned that the world was doomed as population grew to stretch known resources, I did not factor in innovation, ingenuity and sheer grit of the industry operators.

With Covid came the explosion of the delivery business, which bodas have cornered for themselves. Everyone has his go to boda guy. Especially women. You cannot be a woman worth the varnish on your nails, if you do not have at least have three bodas on speed dial.

One Sunday afternoon I was out to one of our leading restaurants and could not help but notice the number of boda guys waiting to take delivery of orders. On asking the duty manager how much of their business is in deliveries, without blinking an eye, he said 60 percent. And this, when seating space in his restaurant was already at a premium.

So I was wrong those many years ago, that the boda bubble was about to burst. Thankfully so.

That being said, government has to recognize that what was originally a stop gap measure, a plaster, for an inadequate transport system, is growing in to a monster that needs to be regulated.

These boda guys are not stupid. They are aware of the potential threats to their livelihoods that could come with a more organized system. They will organize, if they already haven’t done so and resist any attempts to regularize the system.

We should not forget how one UTODA used to run riot all over the city, their taxis a power to themselves and their business model not unlike a criminal organization.

As is usual, the market is often ahead of the regulators. And thank God for that. Government needs to recognize the importance of the bpda industry, but take a long term view about how to integrate mass transport, taxis and the bodas into a coherent transport industry. The industry or market can very well do this by themselves, but the problem with the market is that it tends to concentrate resources or power in a few hands, and leave the rest exploited and trampled upon.

UGANDA'S ECONOMIC FUTURE: BETWEEN HOPE AND THE GHOST OF AMIN

“We’ve been here before, haven’t we?”

Uganda’s economy is at an inflection point. Again. The familiar script is unfolding—high growth projections, glittering infrastructure projects, oil riches promised just over the horizon. But scratch beneath the glossy headlines, and the cracks are all too visible. Public debt is ballooning. Youth unemployment festers. And the political system remains firmly stuck in an old gear.

It’s an old Ugandan story, one that has played out in different shades since the British lowered their flag in 1962. But are we condemned to rerun history—or can we finally write a new chapter?

Flashback: Amin’s Economic Vandalism

Ask anyone old enough to remember, and they will tell you the 1970s were Uganda’s lost decade. When Idi Amin seized power in 1971, the economy nosedived with frightening speed. His decision in 1972 to expel Uganda’s Asian community—who dominated trade, industry, and finance—was economic suicide.

Overnight, factories stopped. Shops shuttered. Uganda’s once-vibrant industrial belt from Jinja to Mbale turned into a graveyard of rusting machinery. Inflation surged past 100%. Coffee smuggling to neighboring Kenya became more lucrative than legitimate export. Kampala became a ghost town by dusk.

Amin's economic vandalism left scars that have never quite healed. To this day, Uganda’s business class remains wary of state intervention. Cash is king, and the distrust of formal systems is woven into our economic culture.

The Museveni Years: Reform, Boom, and Complacency?

When the NRM marched into Kampala in 1986, they found a country in ruins. But to their credit, they rolled up their sleeves. The economy liberalized. The private sector was revived. Inflation was tamed. GDP growth ticked steadily upwards through the 1990s and early 2000s.

Those were heady days. Banks opened, supermarkets returned, mobile phones became commonplace. Uganda became the IMF’s poster child for post-conflict economic reform.

But as the years rolled on, the glow faded. Corruption scandals multiplied. Infrastructure projects became overpriced boondoggles. Domestic arrears—government bills unpaid to suppliers—ballooned, straining the private sector. By the late 2010s, the private sector was grumbling about the same things: late payments, tax harassment, and a government that had become a poor listener.

As Shillings & Cents has long argued, Uganda’s biggest challenge is no longer external shocks. It is our own fiscal indiscipline and complacency.

“Government arrears to suppliers are not just a cash flow problem—they are a symptom of a state losing control of its finances. Left unchecked, this will choke off the very private sector Museveni’s reforms nurtured.”

The Oil Dream: Promise or Peril?

Now enter oil. Uganda’s 6 billion barrels of oil have been called the ticket to middle-income status. And the numbers do look mouthwatering. The East African Crude Oil Pipeline (EACOP) is expected to drive GDP growth into double digits by 2025-2026.

But we’ve seen this movie before. Nigeria. Angola. Equatorial Guinea. Oil has often been more curse than cure.

Already the warning signs are there. Environmental protests are growing. Western financiers are pulling out. Questions about how revenues will be managed remain. And our governance systems—well, let’s just say they were not designed to handle billions of dollars sloshing around.

Uganda must confront this reality head-on. Oil revenues need to be invested in diversifying the economy, not in flashy projects or patronage politics. Otherwise, oil will leave us with little more than polluted wetlands and a shattered macroeconomy.

The People Question: A Young Nation on Edge

Uganda’s population is young. Very young. With a median age of just 16, our youth should be our biggest asset. But the hard truth is they are becoming our biggest challenge.

Every year, hundreds of thousands of graduates join a labor market that simply can’t absorb them. The boda-boda economy is now an employment strategy for graduates. This is unsustainable.

Without urgent reforms in education, skills training, and job creation, we risk creating a generation that feels cheated—and whose frustrations could spill over onto the streets.

Agriculture: Still Our Golden Goose?

Despite the oil hype, agriculture remains Uganda’s economic bedrock. Over 70% of Ugandans depend on it. Yet, productivity remains low, post-harvest losses are staggering, and value addition is minimal.

There are bright spots—like Bayaaya Specialty Coffee in Sironko, where women are driving high-quality exports to Europe. But such initiatives remain isolated islands of excellence.

Uganda must modernize its agriculture. That means investing in irrigation, storage, agro-processing, and market access. Without this, the sector will continue to underperform—and Uganda will remain stuck as a raw commodity exporter.

“Forget the oil for a moment. The fastest route to inclusive, job-creating growth is through agriculture. If we get that wrong, everything else is noise.”

Infrastructure: Debt and Glory?

Uganda’s skyline is changing. Expressways, dams, airports—they are all symbols of ambition. But they come at a steep price. Uganda’s debt has swelled to over $24 billion. Debt servicing now gobbles up over 40% of domestic revenues.

Infrastructure must make economic sense, not just political sense. Roads to nowhere and dams without industries to feed will haunt Uganda’s balance sheet for decades.

Regional Integration: Our Neighbors, Our Lifeline

Uganda’s economy does not exist in a vacuum. Our links to the East African Community (EAC) are critical. But tensions with Rwanda and Kenya over the years have shown how fragile these ties can be.

Uganda must play a smarter regional game—positioning itself as the logistics and services hub of the Great Lakes region. That requires diplomacy, trade facilitation, and resolving the perennial non-tariff barriers that stifle regional commerce.

Climate Change: The Storm We Are Ignoring

Uganda’s planners are obsessed with oil and infrastructure. But the biggest threat to the economy is quietly creeping through our fields and rivers—climate change.

Droughts are becoming more frequent. Floods are washing away crops and homes. Agriculture is under siege.

Uganda’s future will depend on how quickly we pivot to climate-smart agriculture, renewable energy, and water conservation. Ignoring this will be catastrophic.

The Governance Question: The Big Unknown

Finally, the elephant in the room—politics. Uganda’s economy, like its politics, is dominated by a single man who has been in power for nearly 40 years. Whether Uganda can transition peacefully into a post-Museveni era will be the ultimate test of its economic resilience.

Investors need predictability. Businesses need rule of law. Uganda’s prosperity hinges on building strong institutions, ensuring peaceful succession, and cleaning up governance.

 Will This Time Be Different?

Uganda stands on the brink. It has the resources, the people, and the geography to become an East African powerhouse. But the weight of history is heavy.

Will oil transform Uganda—or will it become our curse? Will the youthful population become an engine of innovation—or a force of unrest? Will we fix our fiscal house—or mortgage our future?

These are not academic questions. They will define whether Uganda’s next 20 years will be a golden age—or a tragic rerun of old mistakes.

History is not destiny. But only if we choose to learn from it.

OF CREDIT, COLLATERAL AND COURAGE: WHAT THE GROW LOAN IS TEACHING US

When the GROW Loan started rolling out its billions last year, I was sceptical. Not because the idea was bad—on paper, it sounded like the kind of thing development wonks dream up over coffee in climate-controlled boardrooms. But because I’ve seen this movie before: government-backed loan schemes that arrive with fanfare, fizzle quietly, and leave little more than PowerPoint decks and donor reports in their wake.

This one, it seems is different.

To be fair, the GROW Loan—part of the larger GROW Financing Facility (GFF)—isn’t just about chucking money at a problem and hoping it sticks. It’s about deliberately targeting women entrepreneurs, including refugee women and those in host districts, and giving them a financial ladder to climb out of informality and survival-mode hustling.

"By April this year, over UGX 50 billion had been disbursed through six commercial banks—Centenary, DFCU, Equity, PostBank, Finance Trust and Stanbic. There are three lending levels based on loan size (UGX 4m to UGX 200m), and performance grants to sweeten the deal—5% for women, 8% for refugees, and 10% if you tick both boxes.

The average loan for Level 1 (the smallest category)? Around UGX 10 million. That’s your classic salon, poultry project or boda spare parts shop. But here’s the kicker: 28% of borrowers had never touched formal credit before. That’s not just a number; it’s a quiet revolution in how women engage with money and formal finance.

And yet, not everyone is toasting champagne.

The demand is undeniable, with more women being turned away than qualify for the facility. The eligibility hurdles are real. Many women assumed “GROW” meant “free money” or “soft cash.” But when they turned up at bank counters, they were asked for cash flow statements, business records, and—brace yourself—collateral.

Even though PFIs accepted everything from land sale agreements to livestock and even Bibanja land, the reality is that many women—especially younger or unmarried ones—don’t own property or control assets in their names.

So what happened?

Well, the women who made it through the vetting process did something quietly transformative. They converted informal networks into formal credit behaviour. Some roped in their spouses as guarantors. Others leveraged group savings schemes to back their applications. And quite a few went back to the drawing board—pulling together the paperwork, the proof of business, the receipts.

This tells us something profound: women aren’t credit risks. They’re system survivors.

Still, if we zoom out, some uncomfortable patterns emerge. For one, Greater Kampala alone took 45% of the loans. Meanwhile, refugee-hosting districts got a measly 3%. That’s a far cry from the equity narrative being spun in the project’s mission statements.

Then there’s the age gap: just 4.2% of borrowers were under 30. It seems the banks still don’t trust our young women—or maybe they haven’t figured out how to speak their language yet. Because trust me, Uganda’s young women aren’t short of hustle. What they’re short of is formal documentation and someone willing to take a chance on them.

To be fair to the project managers, they’re not blind to these gaps. Plans are already underway to onboard SACCOs and MFIs—especially in underbanked areas—to push GROW Loans deeper into the grassroots. They’re also investing in post-loan business development support, so these women don’t just get a cheque and a prayer.

But what really gives me hope is this: they’re listening. Not just to disbursement figures but to borrower voices. Field visits, testimonial videos, even those brutally honest borrower engagement sessions—they all point to a project that understands that money alone doesn’t change lives. Trust does.

And that’s the real story here.

"The GROW Loan isn’t just about expanding access to credit. It’s about rewriting the terms on which women interact with Uganda’s financial system. It’s about seeing Bibanja land not as a bureaucratic headache but as real-world collateral. It’s about understanding that a boda-stage matron with no paperwork could still be running one of the most consistent cashflow businesses in her parish.

It’s about credit with empathy.

The next few months will tell us a lot. If the PFIs can crack inclusion in refugee districts, if SACCOs can step up, and if the system starts trusting youth a bit more, then GROW could end up being more than just another acronym in Uganda’s development alphabet soup.

It could become the blueprint for inclusive finance.

 

MOBILE MONEY FORCING A RETHINK IN THE FINANCIAL SECTOR

About a fortnight ago MTN mobile money and absa bank published their 2024 results, on the same day in the newspapers.

Absa formerly Barclays, has been in Uganda since before independence while MTN mobile money will make 15 years this year. But the banking services MoKash will make only nine years, later this year.

The interesting thing about the numbers is that MTN Momo, last year with after tax profits of sh250b was more profitable than absa – sh177b. A trend that we obviously missed, because in the previous year MTN Momo was already more profitable than absa with net profits of sh202b as compared to the bank’s sh146b...

Even more interesting is that MTN momo did this with a smaller asset base of sh1.6trillion versus sh5.4trillion for absa. While absa’s return for its share holders, about 21 percent beats that of the mobile money provider – 15 percent how long before even this number is flipped the other way?

When the history of Uganda is written this overhauling of the banking sector by fintech will be an interesting one to study.

But the effect is not only on the banks, the whole economy is being reconfigured around the relentless march of the fintechs, led MTN and Airtel’s mobile money platforms.

From 2005 to 2015, the telecom sector laid the groundwork for digital inclusion, predominantly through mobile voice services. But the real transformation began in the next decade, from 2015 to 2025, when mobile data and fintech services surged to the forefront, redefining Uganda’s digital landscape.

Between 2005 and 2015, Uganda’s telecom sector was at a turning point. The mobile phone revolution was in full swing, and mobile voice services were rapidly growing, with the subscriber base expanding from just a few hundred thousand to over 10 million by 2010.

This surge was driven by the affordability of handsets, falling tariffs, and increased competition between mobile operators.

By 2015, the number of mobile subscriptions had reached an estimated 17 million, a clear indicator that Uganda was becoming a mobile-first society.

But while voice services dominated the telecom scene in the first decade, mobile data and mobile money were still in their infancy. Data services were beginning to gain traction, thanks to the advent of 3G networks and the proliferation of affordable smartphones. By the end of 2015, mobile internet subscriptions were still relatively low compared to voice services. Only about 5 million Ugandans were using mobile internet, a far cry from the mobile voice subscriber base. The usage was mainly confined to the urban centers, with rural areas lagging behind in terms of internet penetration.

Mobile financial services, began to make their mark starting around 2010, with MTN Mobile Money and Airtel Money leading the charge. While still in the early stages, these services offered basic mobile money transfer capabilities, allowing users to send and receive money via their phones. By 2015, mobile money services had registered around 10 million users, signaling a growing appetite for financial inclusion among the unbanked. However, profitability from mobile money remained limited, with many telecom companies still focused on expanding their user bases and network coverage.

Fast forward to the period from 2015 to 2025, and telecom services in Uganda have gone through a seismic shift. While mobile voice services continued to grow, the pace slowed as the market became increasingly saturated. By 2020, Uganda’s mobile subscriber base had crossed the 23 million mark. But voice services are no longer the golden goose they once were. Instead, the real growth story is in mobile data and mobile money.

Mobile data, in particular, saw explosive growth with the introduction of 4G networks, allowing Ugandans to enjoy faster internet speeds and access data-driven services. This year mobile data subscriptions are expected to exceed 15 million, a huge leap from the 5 million recorded in 2015. With more Ugandans relying on mobile devices for everything from entertainment to education to work, data has become a critical enabler of economic activity.

Mobile money subscriptions are projected to exceed 20 million – MTN mobile money reported 13.8 million active users, outstripping traditional banking services by a significant margin.

The profitability of mobile money services has grown exponentially in lockstep with rising subscribers. Industry players expect that mobile money could account for up to 40% of revenue for major telecom operators in Uganda, a sharp increase from the minimal contributions seen in the earlier period.

The mobile money revolution has been such that, more than before 2015, telecom services have become central to Uganda’s economic engine. The sector has become a major driver of financial inclusion, spurring economic activity, enabling access to digital services, and providing new opportunities for business growth as handsets have gone from being luxury items to indispensable tools of everyday life.

In 2005–2015, mobile voice was the star, with data and mobile money services just beginning to take off. By 2015–2025, the narrative had shifted dramatically, with mobile data and mobile money leading the charge in terms of growth and profitability. MTN reported in 2022 that for the first time revenues from voice had fallen below 50 percent of total revenues.

The banks have not been left behind with all beefing up their online presence, but clearly the momentum from mobile money and the fintechs is irresistible and forcing a rethink in the financial sector.

 

THE BUJAGALI TAX WAIVER

 Almost a decade ago in 2016 President Yoweri Museveni made it known that he wanted the power tariff to be charged to big industrial concerns to be not more than US5cents.

At the time the biggest drivers of the tariff were Bujgali Uganda Ltd (BUL), distributor Umeme and South African firm Eskom, which had the concession to run the Kiira-Nalubale power complex.

Folding Kiira-Nalubale into the Uganda Electricity Generation Company Ltd (UEGCL) last year and the end of the Umeme Concession in March were in aid of Museveni’s wish.

In addition, government allowed a refinancing of BUL’s debt, extending the repayment period so the interest payments can be lower, with the savings reflected in the tariff.

But it was also established that because in the contract BUL was guaranteed a certain capacity charge, to lower what BUL charged,  government committed to giving Bujagali a tax waiver for the duration of the loan, whose tenure comes to an end in 2030.

"According to the Auditor General’s report, which parliament commissioned last year, with the tax relief BUL would charge UETCL 19.58 percent less for power generated. An Electricity Regulatory Authority (ERA) report pointed out that without the tax waiver end user tariff would increase by 4.7 percent...

Parliament’s Finance Committee while deliberating the Income Tax Bill 2025, however think that BUL should not have an extension of the waiver, which ends in June, arguing that BUL have been overcharging consumers since their 250 MW dam was commissioned in 2012, have redeemed much of their investment already and that previous tax waivers have not caused an appreciable reduction in the tariff.

This means that if government wanted to lower the tariff, it would cost BUL money and threaten the viability of the concession which runs out in 2042.

But first let us go back to the beginning of Bujagali and why it produces the priciest power in Uganda. At the end of the 1990s American firm AES Nile Power started the process of trying to develop the Bujagali dam. The country was in the throes of frequent loadshedding, as the Kiira-Nalubale power complex’s 380 MW was below peak demand.

The novelty of the investment in Uganda attracted political opposition and unfair sniping from the environmental lobby, delaying development and AES run out of time and surrendered the project.

A consortium fronted by the Aga Khan took over the project and the dam was commissioned in 2012 putting an end to the daily loadshedding we had become accustomed to.

A lot of the contracts in the power sector were negotiated at time of uncertainty. There were barely 500,000 customers when Bujagali came on line, the economy was still recovering from years of mismanagement and civil war and no one else wanted to commit the nearly $900m needed to develop Bujagali. The government did not have the money to do it and traditional lenders like the World Bank did not think Uganda needed an additional 250 MW...

During intense conversations to renegotiate the BUL concession a decade ago, when Museveni first started pushing for the US5cents tariff, several options were explored including buying out BUL totally, but this option would not have the desired effect of lowering the tariff, in fact quite the contrary. Hence the tax waiver.

The bottom line is that the tax waiver is still required to achieve our goal of cheaper power for Uganda. We forget the ripple effect affordable and available power has on the general economy, which it can be argued far outstrip the tax losses.

At the height of the loadshedding in the early 2000s it was estimated that businessmen were losing at least 30 days of production annually. This was an average, the reality was much worse and included the increased cost of running diesel generators to do business.

 

DOING BUSINESS IN UGANDA IS HAZARDOUS BUSINESS

The recent Umeme debacle has taken me back years, reminding me how difficult it is to do business in Uganda.

Umeme last week announced they would dispute the $118m (sh433b) government had paid them, arguing that they have got strong grounds for the full payment of what they claimed -- $234m. And an additional $9m for works in progress is also being negotiated.

Umeme’s 20 year power distribution concession came to a close at the end of March. Under the terms of the concession they were supposed to be paid any unrealized monies from the investments they made that had not been paid for through the tariff.

The Auditor General’s recommended figure was half what Umeme had claimed. The AG arrived at his figure because the regulators who were supposed to be overseeing the concession, claimed there are investments they did not sign off on and therefore Umeme was not due compensation for them. So maybe they should park them up and go with them?

Questions should  be asked of the regulators of how billion shilling outlays were made without their knowledge. It is not as if Umeme was smuggling in stock into the bar to sell as their own, without the owner knowing.

"Businessmen are not saints and hence the need for regulation. But I fear that while as a nation we claim that we are a private sector led economy, our government and specifically its bureaucrats, go out of their way to make it difficult to do business in this country...

Either there is a wholesale ignorance of how businesses operate, which would be a hard sell – this is not 1970s Uganda or that they are intentionally throwing up hurdles for business for ulterior motives. Your guess is as good as mine.

It reminds me of the privatization process and how we lost a lot of value and prize investors because our officials and politicians just did not get it. Or didn’t they?

The winner had to be the attempted sale of the Coffee Marketing Board (CMB). The sector had just been liberalized so CMB’s market share had plummeted to about 10 percent. Nevertheless the Privatization Unit (PU) were touting its near obsolete four million bag a year processing plant and the land on which the CMB sat in Bugolobi as the key assets.

"During the first round of bidding Swiss trading firm, Sucafina, bid $8m, the highest for the offered 49 percent of the company. MPs were jumping up and down calling Sucafina daylight robbers and other less charitable names from the communist lexicon. All because the net asset value of CMB being offered was an inflated $40m. The politicians ordered PU to cancel the bid and retender the offer. This time Sucafina was the only bidder and offered only $4m. The politicians huffed and puffed and, as if to cut off their nose to spite the face, they cancelled the whole sale of CMB.

Needless to say CMB collapsed with its processing capacity and the site is now being sub optimally used for other things. Maybe we would like to check whether it still belongs to the Government of Uganda.   

Who knows if Sucafina had taken over CMB, Uganda would have made bigger inroads into the global processed coffee market. Now we are busy fighting shadowy types who are trying to corner our coffee market.

The MPs publically failed to make the distinction between net asset value, the stated value of the company on the books, when you subtract liabilities from assets and what the market is willing to pay. The latter being a function of market share and how much remedial work they would have to do to get the company up to full speed among other things.

Of course, the cheaper the businessman can get it the better for him. But us on the other side of the table as the sellers, beyond the dollar amount, need to factor in the improvements in service, tax revenues and job creation that passing on these tainted assets to a more efficient producer would mean.

Providing the investors with the right environment can be wildly beneficial for the improved living standards of the citizen.

Another privatization that had politicians snorting and grunting was the sale of the Uganda Commercial Bank (UCB). The bank, which controlled about 80 percent of deposits was a load stone on the industry, its inefficiencies affecting the whole sector.

While it was profitable at the time of its sale this was only managed by some clever accounting. The government extracted sh100b in bad debt and filled  the hole with bonds, and to ensure it did not build up its stock of bad debt, a moratorium was placed on all lending. For income UCB was just buying double digit yielding government paper. Who would not be profitable under those circumstances?

The politicians at the time fought its sale, arguing that it was giving up too much of the economy to foreign interests. Well the alternative was to keep it and sink the banking industry permanently.

After a failed attempt to steal the bank by some local players, the central bank took it over and sold it to Stanbic.

In 2019, 

about 20 years after the bank was sold, Stanbic paid the treasury $22m in tax on profit, about the amount they bought the bank for in 2002, and every year since they have paid more than $20m in taxes. But that is the smaller benefit to the economy. By being more efficient than its predecessor they are lending to the private sector. Last year Stanbic’s loan book stood at sh4.2trillion or about $1.1b. The government’s budget in 2001/02 was about $1.3b.

Whether business is foreign or local, is not a concern of the man on the street, who benefits from improved services, jobs and the services that come with the increased taxes. But rather it is the interest of an elite, who want to usurp these assets for themselves and the rest be damned.

WEALTH BY THE POWER OF SMALL THINGS

BOOK REVIEW:The Wealth Code: Small Habits to Prosperity    

AUTHOR: Ray Brehm

This handy little book – 85 pages, offers a fresh perspective on wealth-building, challenging traditional ideas about money and success.  It is a compilation of articles by people – including our very own Monica Rubombora, talking about their main take on money -- its making, keeping and growing.

While it has more of the same financial literacy lessons we have had over and over again, three of the 13 chapters stood out for me. Not to denigrate the other ten.

It starts interestingly with the chapter “The wrong balance sheet” which author Brehm argues, rather than focusing solely on financial gains, adopt a more holistic view of prosperity—one that includes relationships, health, and personal fulfillment alongside financial success.

In The Wealth Code: Small Habits to Prosperity, Ray Brehm throws out the traditional approach to wealth-building and replaces it with a smarter, more balanced way to achieve lasting success. One of the first things he challenges is how we measure wealth. Most of us look at our bank accounts, investments, and what we owe to determine how well we're doing financially. But Brehm says that’s a pretty limited view. “The way you have been taught to measure Net Worth is flawed,” he writes.

If this has you rolling your eyes, you are not alone. Easy to say for a person who has attained financial freedom.

Nevertheless, the well worn cliché that true wealth is about a lot more than just money should be ignored at your own peril. Think about it as looking at the bigger picture—your relationships, personal growth, and overall well-being. If you're only focused on your financial assets, you're missing the other important parts of life that really make you feel rich. For

 the rest of us in the rat race it is all about money, but the author argues you don’t get money by looking for money, but by adopting the habits that will bring you the money, one of which – surprise, surprise is staying healthy.

“If you don’t have your health, wealth becomes irrelevant,” says Lisa McNair Palmer, the chapter’s author. Straightforward but powerful point. If you’re not healthy, making more money doesn’t really help you enjoy life or even use your wealth effectively. And what is the money for after all, than for its benefits to be enjoyed by you and your loved ones?

Palmer stresses the importance of investing in your physical and mental health just as much as you would in stocks or real estate. If you’re constantly worn out or dealing with health issues, it’ll be hard to build any kind of wealth. So, it’s important to put as much effort into taking care of your body and mind as you do into making money. Exercise, eat well, get enough rest—it’s all part of building a strong foundation for long-term prosperity.

Experts agree that exercise need not be much more than logging a few thousand steps a day.

Many people overcomplicate wealth-building by diving into risky investments or trying to follow complex financial strategies. But Josette Mandela believes the key to success is simple math: save more, spend less, and invest wisely.

“Small habits compound into great wealth over time,” she writes. The trick isn’t to find one big financial win—it’s about making small, consistent decisions every day that eventually add up to significant gains. It’s about being patient and letting time do the work for you. Instead of stressing out over trying to hit it big, Mandela encourages us to stick with simple habits that will help us grow our wealth steadily over time.

What makes The Wealth Code

so impactful is that it shifts the focus away from just chasing money. Instead, it’s about building a balanced life where health, mindset, and wealth all work together. When you stop measuring success by the size of your bank account alone and start considering your overall well-being, you set yourself up for a more fulfilling, lasting prosperity. By investing in small, consistent habits—whether it's taking care of your health or sticking to simple financial practices—you can build true wealth that goes beyond just the dollars in your pocket...

Think of an athlete who wants to run the 100 meters in under 10 seconds to qualify for the Olympics. He doesn’t just go out and try and run under 10 seconds every day. He practices his reaction to the starting gun, his sprinting technique, he lifts weights to get stronger, he charts a competition schedule that will allow him peak just before Olympics, these and many small things he does with the aim of running a sub-10.

It the same with wealth, you do not go out to focus on being a millionaire, but this book through the various perspectives of the authors counsels, that you focus on the small things you do everyday, not all directly connected to money that will allow you eventually become wealthy become wealthy hopefully, but probably more important enjoy the journey while you are at it.

Very enjoyable read. Other chapters on tithing, leveraging expertise and  recognized authority provide much food for thought. This book may very well add new perspectives to your quest for and ease your journey towards wealth.

 

UGANDA: THE UNREALISED PROMISE

A decision taken at the beginning of the last century to keep Uganda as a small holder farm economy as opposed to a settler economy, has reverberated down the years ensuring food sufficiency on one hand while at the same time stifling private capital development.

Commissioner of Uganda between 1901 and 1907, Sir James Hayes Sadler, decided that unlike neighbouring Kenya, Uganda was not suited to European settlement. The hot humid climate that came with malaria infestation and the Tse Tse fly, which spreads sleeping sickness, he thought should be best left to the Africans.

This one decision was a blessing and a curse, because unlike in Kenya, Zimbabwe or South Africa, European possession of the land and eviction of the locals was minimized, but also means that the country’s land tenure system is convoluted and difficult to maneuver discouraging large scale investments.

But to get Ugandans to produce the cash crops – cotton, coffee, tea and tobacco to feed British industry, the colonial administration instituted a number of taxes aimed at encouraging production. The hut and poll taxes, were levied on every hut and adult man to raise revenues to administer the colonial project and to incentivize the local population to grow crops for export.

To the current day in central and southern Uganda families have a few trees of coffee on their small holdings, as an income earner, while the rest of the holding is dedicated to food crops for subsistence. The average land holding in Uganda is about five acres

These small holder farmers made Uganda a major exporter of coffee, cotton and tea. Not to thumb their nose at the small holder farmer, it is reported that favourable commodity prices in the first half of the last century financed the building of the Owen Falls dam (now the Kiira dam) and the Kilembe copper mines, with some left over to help the UK fund the war effort during the Second World War.

The Indian community, many of whom were descended from the railway workers who built the Ugandan railway, inserted themselves as middlemen – because of their access to capital, bulking the produce from the smaller farmers, often employing cooperative unions, for export to the UK.

The railway reached Kampala in 1931 and was extended on to Kasese by 1956. It was funded by British government grants and loans, some of which came from the locally generated revenues.

This separation of roles caused tension, as the Asians had lobbied the colonial government to shut Africans out of key economic activities like cotton ginning and became the spark for pro-independence agitators in many parts of the country.

This animosity played into post-colonial governments, offering the opportunity for first President Milton Obote to put in motion efforts to nationalize foreign businesses, which President Idi Amin followed through by expelling the Asians in 1972, in a desperate effort to shore up his already floundering popularity.

By gutting Uganda’s commercial class, Amin set the stage for at least two decades of economic decline. It has been reported that the Madvhani family alone by 1972 controlled about a third of the economy through their investments in the sugar industry and supporting industries.

The expulsion of Asians also denied local entrepreneurs much needed mentorship, which their Kenyan cousins benefitted from to build a more robust indigenous capital base. The cronies and local entrepreneurs who took over the Asian assets have nothing to show for the free-lunch they got, with many of the businesses collapsed or failed to transcend the generation of the original beneficiaries.

Amin’s reign of terror also triggered a brain drain, forcing the middle class to flee the country. A few hundred thousand Ugandans disappeared or lost their lives during his rule from 1971 to 1979.

It was also during his reign that the East African Community (EAC) a promising project of economic integration that would lead to political federation, was scuttled.

Obote’s return to power in 1980 while setting in motion plans to resuscitate the economy, the recovery was hobbled by insecurity driven by local insurgencies, the major one being the National Resistance Army (NRA) rebellion, centered just north of the capital, Kampala.

When the current administration led by Yoweri Museveni took power in 1986, inheriting an economy that had regressed into subsistence, had shrunk to less than half its 1970 size in real terms, was short of cash and had major deficiencies in infrastructure and human capital.

Buoyed by the good will that came with restoring a semblance of peace and security in most of the country, Museveni’s government initiated a spate of donor sponsored reforms that liberalized the economy – freeing the exchange rate, privatizing state enterprises and disbanding commodity marketing monopolies, triggering the longest stretch of economic growth in the country’s history.

The reforms caused some trauma as thousands of civil servants lost their jobs with rationalization of the civil service and privatization of state enterprises, fiscal discipline cutoff the freeloaders and increased competition led to the closure of many businesses that had previously benefitted by the huge margins they enjoyed in the situation of scarcity that had prevailed for years.

On the flip side the reforms has attracted billions of dollars in foreign direct investment, unlocked indigenous business initiative, all which have resulted in a quantum leap in revenue collections. The government collected about sh400b in revenues in 1985/86 but is set to collect sh31trillion in this financial year.

This increased revenues has helped government increase literacy rates, longevity of the population and expand service provision. While gaps still remain in everything from security to infrastructure and human capacity, that progress has been made is undeniable.

The reforms also facilitated the return of the Asians, who have once again recovered their place as the pre-eminent commercial class in the country with interests in retail. Real estate, manufacturing and other services. A few years ago it was reported that their businesses account for more than half the revenues collected annually by the Uganda Revenue Authority (URA).

Every so often calls for a nationalization of the economy are mooted, with the main champions arguing that the economy has been hijacked by foreigners, who repatriate their profits abroad rather than reinvest in the country.  It is feared that these calls can gain currency as the Museveni regime reaches the evening of its run and their inability to narrow local inequalities can conveniently be blamed on foreign capital.  A more sinister motive is that a group of connected elite want to appropriate these assets using the state before the Museveni era comes to a close.

Over the last four decades of Museveni rule the reforms have shown dividends as the economy has diversified away from agriculture – coffee accounted for nearly all export receipts and revenue collections in 1986. Services, construction and manufacturing now account for two thirds of economic output today.

It helped too that in 2000 the EAC was revived and has done a lot to promote regional trade by providing demand for industry in the EAC. The EAC has now expanded to seven nations beyond the initial three. Progress is being made, it is now a customs union with the free movement of goods and services across the borders but not without teething problems. Progress towards the more demanding monetary union, whose main feature will be the adoption of a single currency, has been a bit labored and slow in coming.

 However, endemic corruption and a growing debt service burden means Kampala finds itself unable to, more equitably spread the economic gains of the last four decades, improve service delivery and bridge major infrastructure deficits that would help vault the country to its next level of development.

The country waits with bated breath for the first oil from the fields in western Uganda to alleviate current economic challenges that include a cash squeeze, resulting from a holding back of donor financing over displeasure at a recently passed Anti-Homosexuality law and growing official corruption. Commercial viability of Uganda’s oil reserves – booked at 2.5 billion barrels, was established in 2006 and development of the fields begun in 2022, following the passing of enabling laws for its exploitation and the arriving at final investment decision, that would unlock the funds needed.

The recent census showed that seventy percent of the population is under 30 years old, or were not born when Museveni came to power. An aging leadership – Museveni will be 80 in September, finds itself scrambling to keep up with a youthful population’s demands for better and widespread social services, jobs and hope, complicating an eminent power transition.

At independence the hope that Uganda, with its huge natural endowments – it has at least half the arable land in the region and growing educated class, was a guaranteed economic success, was squandered by tribalism and factionalism, whose after effects continue to hobble the small east African nation’s progress.