Environment: Uganda’s Beautiful Girl – Loved, Lied To, and Left in the Mud

Ugandans love beautiful things. We praise them with great desire. Whether it is the crested crane, a gleaming boda boda, or a perfectly rolled Rolex, we celebrate with passion. But there is one beauty we all admire be it in Moroto or Kalangala; one whose curves, moods, and generosity shape our very survival. The name of the beautiful one is Environment.

If she were a girl, she would stop traffic even in Kampala where traffic doesn’t move much anyway. Think of Kabale’s rolling hills, Sipi’s tumbling waterfalls, the early morning mist rising over Queen Elizabeth National Park. Think. Environment is the original influencer: no filters, no edits, just raw, God-given beauty. Everyone claims to love her. Everyone posts her on Independence Day, Earth Day, World Environment Day, and on many other days.

But for all the sweet talk, Environment is Uganda’s most abused girl. She is adored in speeches but assaulted in practice. It is the national version of: “I love you darling…but I am not ready for commitment.”

Politics of Hypocrisy

Nothing exposes this hypocrisy more than our political campaigns.

Presidential hopefuls, MPs-to-be, councillors-in-waiting and everyone else is armed with big grammar and bigger promises. “We must protect our wetlands,” they declare, usually while standing inside one, campaign tent pegged into a former frog maternity ward. Somewhere, a frog sighs, “Another manifesto massacre.”

Next comes the tree-planting pledge: “Ten million trees!” they shout while someone quietly clears a forest to plant cabbages and confusion. By the end of the rally, only doubt has been planted.

Visit any campaign trail and you would think a small war just ended. Torn posters hang on trees, poles, kiosks, vehicles, and occasionally on confused goats, and littered everywhere. Plastic bottles with smiling candidate faces decorate the ground like proud landmines. It is as though every politician is auditioning for Minister of Environment Destruction.

Pollution at its Best

The loudspeakers scream at volumes capable of waking ancestors. Birds migrate temporarily. Dogs file psychological complaints. Elderly people simply shake their heads and declare, “Eh, this country!”

Then there is the dust on our good roads. The kind that rises in thick clouds as convoys roar past, leaving supporters looking like they have all been sprinkled with expired cassava flour. By evening, everyone coughs in rhythm, friendly neighbours and enemies alike.

And the shouting! Promises evaporate faster than morning dew. “We shall protect the environment!” they bellow, moments after their trucks block drainage channels and cause instant flooding.

Who Cares?

So who truly cares about Environment? The trees watching helplessly? The rivers pretending to flow? The wetlands praying they won’t be discovered as shortcuts to rallies? Who? If Environment had a vote, she would stay home and cry. Yet, she still takes care of us. She keeps offering fresh Kisoro air, Masindi’s fertile soil, and those sweet rains that fill jerrycans and gardens across the country. But like any girl who has been lied to many times, Uganda’s environment is getting tired.

Her wetlands, call them kidneys if you are ecologically sensitive, are drained for washing bays and apartments that leak when it drizzles. Her forests or her hair are shaved for charcoal and gossip. Her rivers that could pass for veins choke on kaveera, bottles, and the occasional old mattresses.

Ugly Actions

Some people say, “Floods are not our fault,” as they build in floodplains. “The heat is normal,” some politicians insist as their fans work harder than their manifestos. When she finally cries through landslides in Bududa or floods along Nakivubo or in Mbale, her abusers cry back, “Where is government?”

And Kampala remains the capital of environmental contradiction. Nature gifted it hills and wetlands for drainage. We responded by pouring concrete into every wetland we could find. Now whenever it rains, old car tyres begin swimming and we act shocked. Trees are becoming increasingly rare in town that if you see one, hug it. It may vanish tomorrow.

The truth is simple: Environment is the girl everyone wants to enjoy, but few want to work for. We want the fresh air, the amazing sunsets, the stable climate, all without responsibility. We say “climate change is real” while littering like we are paid to do it.

This country is blessed. We have one of the most generous environments on the continent. But even the most generous heart gets tired. We cannot keep treating Environment like a side dish when she is the main meal.

And now she is changing. Her temper flares through floods, droughts, crop failures. Her skin dries. Her patience thins. Soon she may ghost us. Not the WhatsApp kind, but the hard kind: empty gardens, dry wells and choking air.

Let Us Do Something

Uganda’s most beautiful girl is still here. But she is not here just to be admired. She is here to be protected. If we truly love her, then it is time to prove it in actions, not adjectives.

Redemption won’t come through posters and panel discussions. Carry a reusable bag and refuse kaveera like your life depends on it, because it does. Plant a tree and water it, don’t just take selfies with it. Pick up that plastic bottle instead of stepping over it. Sort your waste. Stop pouring rubbish into the drainage and then blame God when the floods arrive. Speak up when you see wetlands being grabbed. Support the National Environment Management Authority in the execution of her mandate; and all policies that protect nature. Demand that leaders walk their talk, not sink their tents into swamps.

And for the campaigners: if you must shout promises, at least don’t shout them over the sound of a dying ecosystem, and do not tell lies.

Let us be the generation that stopped the bleeding and restored the beauty. Let us love Environment loudly, clearly, and practically because we all have the capacity to love big; and because when she thrives, Uganda thrives. And when she suffers, we all pay the price. The time to act is not tomorrow and not after elections. It is now.

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