Beyond Emergency Relief: Why Uganda Needs Real Disaster Preparedness

Uganda’s landscape, once a sanctuary of resilience, is today a hotspot of recurring tragedies. Landslides, flash floods, prolonged droughts, rising lake waters, forest fires, and wetland degradation – the list keeps growing, and the devastation keeps deepening.

We have seen it before. Bududa in 2010 when an entire village was buried alive. Kasese in 2013 and again in 2020, when the Nyamwamba River burst its banks. Mbale in 2022, when flash floods swept through homes and shops, claiming tens of lives in a single night. Last year’s Kiteezi garbage tragedy, and many more misfortunes. Each disaster dominates the headlines for a while, attracts emergency relief and promises of change. But once the waters recede and the news cycle shifts, we quietly return to business as usual – until the next catastrophe strikes.

Let that sink in. A few hundreds of people have died in Mt. Elgon landslides since 2010, while more than 100,000 people were displaced in Kasese floods between 2013 and 2020. In 2022 alone, Mbale and Kapchorwa suffered losses running into millions of shillings. Kampala too is no exception: every heavy downpour turns roads into unkempt rivers because more than 2,200 tonnes of solid waste are generated daily, much of it plastic that blocks drainage channels. Uganda also loses 90,000 hectares of forest annually, weakening natural buffers against floods and droughts. These aren’t just statistics. They are scars on our national conscience.

Do We Ever Plan for Disasters?

We are stuck in a dangerous loop. We react to disasters but rarely prepare for them, it seems. Our disaster preparedness plans are often outdated, rarely implemented, and woefully inadequate. Skeptics can easily say that the plans are more on paper than they are in the fields. And they would not be very far from the truth.

There is a saying: wise people learn from their mistakes, but wiser ones learn from others. Sadly, our disaster management seems to do neither. It wakes up after every tragedy – and then goes right back to sleep after dust has settled down.

We Can Plan Better

A disaster mitigation plan should not be a dusty file in someone’s office in town. It must be a living system – grounded in science, informed by local wisdom, updated with real-time data, and focused on building resilience, not just rebuilding lives after disasters.

But here lies the problem: most of our planning happens behind desks in Kampala. Scientists, environmental experts, and local communities are rarely consulted. Hazard maps, if they exist at all, are hopelessly outdated. Warning systems are underutilised and mock drills are almost unheard of in many institutions.

Meanwhile, fragile hillsides are being carved up. Roads, bridges, dams, and settlements are expanding into wetlands, riverbanks, and steep slopes – often with faulted environmental clearance. Illegal sand mining and deforestation strip away natural protection. In some cases, geological advice is probably ignored, and untrained contractors may be allowed to take on risky slope-cutting jobs.

The people most affected – farmers in Bududa, traders in Mbale, herdsmen in Karamoja – are rarely consulted. Their knowledge of terrain, weather patterns, and traditional coping mechanisms is brushed aside, even though they hold critical wisdom.

Do We Just Forget to Use Our Tools?

Uganda has the capacity for remote sensing, Geographic Information System (GIS) mapping, drone surveillance, and real-time weather monitoring through agencies like NEMA, Uganda National Meteorological Authority (UNMA), and universities. What is missing is the investment in training and the full political will to make them work.

A proactive plan must include regularly updated hazard and vulnerability maps, since a single cloudburst in Elgon can trigger landslides, dam breaches, and floods downstream in Mbale. It must also embed disaster thinking into development policy, ensuring that no road, dam, or industrial hub proceeds without independent and thorough environmental assessments that account for the realities of climate change. Equally important is respect for carrying capacities, as towns like Mbale, Kasese, and Kampala were never designed to withstand the population pressures and construction loads now being imposed upon them. Why can’t we allow Geography, not greed, to guide planning?

True Resilience is Community-Rooted

True resilience starts at the grassroots. Disaster planning must be rooted in communities, with local councils and village leaders at the centre. They know the land, they understand the risks, and what they need is training, resources, and authority to act.

We must revive traditional practices like terracing on slopes, rainwater harvesting, and wetland protection. These are not outdated customs; they are survival strategies. Early warning systems should be more than rain gauges. They should involve boda-boda riders delivering alerts, community radios broadcasting warnings, and volunteers mobilising evacuations.

Build Teams, Listen to Science

Uganda’s disaster authorities need experts – geologists, hydrologists, engineers, GIS specialists – not just bureaucrats pushing paper. Ministries and agencies like the environment, health, and transport, KCCA and local governments must work together instead of in silos.

And when we talk of infrastructure, let us think beyond cement and iron bars. Nature-based solutions such as afforestation, slope stabilisation, wetland restoration, and building small check dams are not only sustainable but often more effective than brute-force engineering. Schools, health centres, and markets must be built with disaster resilience in mind. And construction in high-risk zones like steep hillsides should stop.

We cannot wait for the next tragedy before we start listening to science. Ugandan institutions such as universities, UNMA, NEMA, and the Office of the Prime Minister already have valuable research and tools. What is needed is integration: real-time dashboards, mobile apps, and community-based alert systems that connect science to citizens.

No Need to Panic

Uganda must shift from firefighting to foresight. Preparedness is not a luxury. It is a lifeline. It must evolve with science, draw strength from local communities, and be backed by political will.

Right now, we seem to be gambling with lives. Unchecked development, poor planning, and weak preparedness are a recipe for more disasters. The mountains, lakes, and wetlands are warning us again and again. The question is: will we listen this time?

The late Nobel Laureate Wangari Maathai once said: “You cannot protect the environment unless you empower people, you inform them, and you help them understand that these resources are their own, that they must protect them.”

Let us not wait for another Bududa landslide, another Kasese flood, another Mbale tragedy, another unwelcome muddy sea at Bata Bata. The time to act is now.

Mr. Lubuulwa is the Senior Public Relations Officer at NEMA.