UGANDA BUDGET BETS ON BRAINS OVER BRUTE FORCE

In a world where the taxman is never far behind and the budget speech is often a catalogue of fresh levies, new charges, and revised rates, Finance Minister Matia Kasaija’s decision to announce no new taxes in the Sh72.1 trillion budget for FY2025/26 was—dare I say it—a minor fiscal miracle.

Now, let’s not kid ourselves. The government still needs money. The deficit is a chunky 7.6 percent of GDP. The debt clock keeps ticking. But this year, instead of reaching deeper into the same old pockets, Treasury took a more strategic route—don’t tax more, tax better.

It’s a position as rare as it is refreshing. And in this economic moment, it’s also very, very wise.

After all, Uganda is still nursing its wounds. COVID-19 may be a distant memory, but its economic scars aren’t. Businesses—especially the small and informal—are still playing catch-up. Add to that a volatile global economy, rising debt servicing costs, and soft consumer demand, and it becomes clear: this is not the time for new tax burdens.

Instead, the government wants to fix the system. URA is doubling down on digital tools—EFRIS, DTS, automated audits, the whole alphabet soup—to bring more efficiency into tax collection. Compliance gaps in rental income, digital commerce, and high-net-worth individuals are in the crosshairs. The informal sector, long treated like a rounding error, is finally getting structured attention.

It’s the right call. Not just because it spares the taxpayer some pain, but because it signals a subtle shift in philosophy: that revenue is a function of trust and efficiency, not just compulsion.

All this is happening against a relatively sunny economic backdrop. Growth this year is clocking in at 6.3 percent, inflation has eased to 3.4 percent, and the Ugandan shilling has defied the odds to become the most stable currency in Africa, at least according to the IMF’s International Financial Statistics. GDP now stands at Sh226.3 trillion—up from Sh203.7 trillion last year—and is expected to touch Sh254.2 trillion next financial year.

There’s a new swagger in our export numbers too. Coffee earnings doubled to $1.83 billion. Industrial exports are taking up more space in the basket. And the country is finally getting serious about monetising what it grows. In the Harvard Economic Complexity Index, Uganda is becoming more sophisticated, more “complex,” punching above its income level. For once, the story of economic transformation is more than just speechwriter flair.

But scratch the surface, and a few uncomfortable truths peek through.

"Domestic arrears, remain a festering sore. By conservative estimates, government owes its suppliers north of Sh14 trillion—money that many SMEs will never see in full or on time. The budget speech mentioned them, sure, but not in the tone of urgency the crisis demands. You can’t talk up private sector-led growth while stiffing the very businesses you contract. It’s like pushing someone off a cliff and then offering them climbing gear.

These arrears distort more than just balance sheets. They ruin creditworthiness, lead to layoffs, and undermine tax compliance. Worse, they fuel a quiet despair among entrepreneurs who once believed doing business with government was a ticket to growth.

And then there’s the not-so-quiet elephant in the room: corruption.

The budget offers the usual playbook—digitise procurement, automate tax systems, roll out e-whatever. That’s all good. But what’s missing is the political spine to back it all up. What good is an electronic audit trail if the audit ends in a dusty drawer? If prosecution is selective? If impunity is routine?

We’ve seen too many grand digital tools defeated by small brown envelopes.

Even more concerning is the rise of off-budget mechanisms—special funds, trusts, "strategic investments"—that increasingly escape the traditional accountability radar. If the public purse is leaking through side doors, it won’t matter how tightly you lock the front gate.

And yet, there is some hope.

The budget’s Shs2.43 trillion investment in wealth creation—through PDM, UDB, Emyooga, and others—is a continuation of the government’s bet on grassroots economic transformation. It’s an effort to turn more Ugandans into producers, not just consumers of the economy. The Sh1.86 trillion earmarked for agro-industrialisation, the big push in infrastructure (Sh6.92T) continues, and the funding for science and technology (Sh835B) all point to a state that wants to do more than just spend—it wants to build.

But none of it will work unless the state starts paying what it owes, curbing what it leaks, and collecting what it’s supposed to—fairly, consistently, and transparently.

So yes, let’s cheer the absence of new taxes. It’s a bold political decision and a clever economic one. But let's also not forget: doing nothing is not the same as doing enough. Tax reform without public sector reform is just clever accounting. A bigger budget won’t mean better lives unless the money reaches the intended beneficiaries.

The best part of this budget may be what was left unsaid: no new taxes. Now let’s hope it’s followed by no more arrears, no more excuses, and maybe—just maybe—no more corruption.

 

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.