"Black Gold, Broken Promises" – How Uganda's Oil Economy Is Leaving Its Most Vulnerable Behind

In 2006, Uganda struck oil. The discovery of an estimated 6.5 billion barrels of petroleum in the Albertine Graben, nestled near the shores of Lake Albert, sent ripples of excitement across the country. President Yoweri Museveni called it a catalyst for "economic transformation, industrialization, and national prosperity." The world took notice.

Nearly two decades later, as Uganda prepares to pump its first oil and the East African Crude Oil Pipeline inches toward completion, a quieter and more uncomfortable story is unfolding – one told not in barrels and revenues, but in firewood bundles, hospital visits, and household budgets stretched beyond breaking point.

Researcher and energy justice advocate Tinah has spent considerable time examining that story. Her findings paint a picture of a country standing at a crossroads: rich in resources, but struggling to ensure those resources serve the many rather than the few.

"The benefits of fossil fuel-driven growth have not been evenly experienced across the population," she says. "Instead, they have contributed to regional disparities, socio-economic inequalities, and tensions arising from land acquisition and environmental degradation. While fossil fuels have facilitated economic activity and connectivity, they have also exposed Uganda's trade system to external shocks and contributed to economic inefficiencies and inequalities."

The Engine That Runs Uganda – And Its Hidden Costs

Long before Uganda's first barrel of crude oil reaches an international market, fossil fuels have already been shaping the country's economic bones.

As a landlocked nation, Uganda depends almost entirely on road transport powered by diesel and petrol to move goods from seaports in neighbouring Kenya and Tanzania to inland markets. That dependence has kept commerce moving – but it has also made the economy vulnerable. Every time global oil prices spike, the cost of transporting goods rises, food prices climb, and ordinary Ugandans feel the pressure most acutely.

"Fossil fuels have made transport costs high and volatile," Tinah explains. "Fluctuations in global oil prices directly affect the cost of moving goods, increase the prices of essential commodities, and raise the overall cost of living."

The energy story inside Uganda's borders is equally complicated. Hydropower provides the bulk of the country's electricity, but when droughts reduce water levels – an increasingly common occurrence – thermal power plants burning heavy fuel oil step in to keep the lights on. The problem is that fuel-based power generation is significantly more expensive than hydro, and those costs are passed directly to consumers through electricity tariffs.

"The high cost of fuel-based power generation has contributed to expensive electricity tariffs," Tinah notes, "which can limit industrial competitiveness and discourage investment – particularly for smaller enterprises that struggle to access affordable energy."

The Pipeline Promise – And Its Price

The East African Crude Oil Pipeline – stretching 1,443 kilometres from Uganda's oil fields to the Tanzanian port of Tanga – is the most visible symbol of Uganda's petroleum ambitions. It has also become one of the most contested infrastructure projects on the continent.

For its proponents, EACOP represents Uganda's gateway to global oil markets, a catalyst for infrastructure development, and a source of employment in regions that have long been economically sidelined. Investments by multinational companies have already created jobs – both directly in the oil sector and indirectly in construction, hospitality, and logistics.

But Tinah is unsparing about the other side of that ledger.

"Land acquisitions for oil projects have led to the displacement of communities, raising serious concerns about compensation and livelihoods," she says. Between 3,648 and over 4,954 households have been affected across EACOP and the Tilenga project, with many reporting inadequate compensation and the disruption of farming and fishing livelihoods that families have depended on for generations.

There is also the longer shadow of the so-called "resource curse" – the documented tendency of oil-dependent economies to see agricultural and manufacturing sectors wither as attention and investment flood toward petroleum.

"There is a real risk of overdependence on oil revenues, which could overshadow other sectors like agriculture," she warns. "Careful management is required to ensure that the benefits are equitably distributed and do not exacerbate existing inequalities."

"Revenue from fossil fuel exploration often flows to government coffers and large corporations rather than reaching ordinary citizens. Wealth tends to concentrate among elites and foreign investors, leaving marginalized groups without significant benefits."

Who Bears The Heaviest Burden

If Uganda's oil wealth is unevenly distributed, the burden of energy poverty is even more precisely targeted – falling hardest on those who were already the most vulnerable.

Over 89% of rural households lack access to the national electricity grid. In its place, families burn firewood and charcoal – fuels that are expensive relative to income, damaging to health, and deeply time-consuming to obtain. In districts like Nebbi, Pakwach, and Kitgum, some rural households spend between 15 and 20 percent of their monthly income on biomass fuels alone. Residents of urban slums in Kampala, Jinja, and Gulu fare little better, spending up to 9 percent of monthly income on cooking fuels – buying in small daily quantities that cost significantly more per unit than bulk purchases.

"Low-income households often pay up to 20% more for fuel due to buying in small quantities," Tinah explains. "They are paying a premium simply for being poor."

But it is women and girls who carry the sharpest edge of this burden.

In districts including Karamoja, Kitgum, and Nebbi, women and girls spend several hours each day collecting firewood, often traveling long distances in unsafe conditions. Girls frequently miss school or homework to fulfill this role. Indoors, the smoke from traditional cooking fires exposes women and children to levels of particulate matter far exceeding WHO safe limits – driving rates of respiratory illness, eye disease, and chronic health conditions that would be preventable with access to cleaner energy.

"Women and girls bear a disproportionate share of energy poverty," Tinah says. "It increases their unpaid care work, exposes them to safety hazards, and contributes to school dropout rates. The health, economic, and educational consequences are enormous – and they are largely invisible in mainstream policy discussions."

"The heaviest energy burdens fall on those who were already most vulnerable – and the measurement of that burden must go beyond electricity bills to capture time, health, and human dignity."

Measuring What Is Often Ignored

Tinah is equally focused on how energy poverty is measured – arguing that conventional approaches miss much of what matters most.

The most common method calculates the percentage of household income spent on energy. But she points to several additional frameworks that capture the full picture.

The Multidimensional Energy Poverty Index (MEPI) moves beyond financial expenditure to assess whether households have access to modern fuels, adequate lighting, and reliable electricity – recognizing that a household may be deeply energy-deprived even if its energy costs appear low. The Multi-Tier Framework, developed by the World Bank, evaluates energy access across seven dimensions including capacity, reliability, affordability, and safety.

Indoor air quality monitoring offers yet another lens. In rural districts like Karamoja and Nebbi, studies measuring particulate matter (PM2.5) concentrations inside homes using traditional fuels have found levels far exceeding WHO safety standards – translating an invisible health crisis into measurable, actionable data.

"Understanding which communities carry the greatest energy burden enables policymakers, NGOs, and researchers to design targeted interventions," Tinah explains. "But the measurement has to be honest about what burden actually means – it is not just about money. It is about time, health, safety, and opportunity."

Data As a Weapon – If Used Responsibly

For communities on the front lines of Uganda's energy and environmental crises, data is not an abstraction. It is the difference between being heard and being ignored.

Tinah's research examines how health records, pollution measurements, and utility billing data can be collected and deployed as tools for advocacy – but she is clear that the ethical foundations of that data collection are non-negotiable.

Uganda's Data Protection and Privacy Act (2019) provides the legal framework. But Tinah argues that legal compliance is only the floor.

"Individuals and communities must understand why their data is being collected, how it will be used, and their right to refuse," she says. "Consent must be genuine – not a condition of service, not buried in a user agreement. Real consent means real control."

She points to several approaches already making a difference. Environmental monitoring around the Albertine Graben has documented water contamination from oil exploration, providing communities and environmental organizations with the evidence needed to challenge companies violating environmental laws. Hospital and survey data from Kampala and Wakiso showing elevated respiratory illness rates linked to indoor air pollution have supported advocacy for clean cooking subsidies. Household billing data from rural districts like Nebbi and Pakwach has informed calls for equitable utility pricing and rural electrification programs.

"Data should not extract from communities," Tinah insists. "It should serve them. When communities in India used low-cost air quality monitors to hold polluters accountable, they were not just gathering numbers – they were building power."

"Ethically collected data ensures that advocacy is grounded in facts, addresses real challenges, and promotes sustainable, equitable development – rather than being used against the very communities it was meant to help"

What A Just Transition Must Look Like

Uganda is at a pivotal moment. Its oil economy is about to become real – with first production expected imminently and EACOP moving toward completion. The decisions made in the next few years will shape the country's trajectory for generations.

Tinah's vision of a just transition is neither anti-development nor naive about Uganda's economic realities. It is, instead, a demand for intentionality – for policies designed to correct historic inequities rather than replicate them.

Her framework rests on six pillars:

Equitable revenue distribution – ensuring oil earnings fund healthcare, education, and infrastructure across all regions, not just those with political connections. Protection of affected communities – with fair compensation, participatory resettlement, and genuine livelihood restoration for those displaced by oil and pipeline projects. Expansion of clean energy access – through solar mini-grids, small-scale hydro, and wind projects that bring reliable power to the rural communities currently left furthest behind. Economic diversification – investing oil revenues into agriculture, manufacturing, tourism, and technology to build resilience against price volatility and avoid the resource curse. Green job creation – with vocational training and reskilling programs that equip Ugandans, especially youth and women, for employment in renewable energy and sustainable sectors. And environmental safeguards – strict regulation of oil extraction, protection of sensitive ecosystems like Murchison Falls National Park, and climate adaptation strategies for communities already experiencing the impacts of climate change.

"You cannot ask workers and communities to give up their livelihoods for a green future without providing a credible alternative and real support for getting there," she says.

The road ahead requires Uganda to make a choice: whether to extract its resources in ways that compound existing inequalities, or to use this moment of transformation to build something genuinely different.

"Fossil fuels have played a pivotal role in shaping Uganda's modern economy – but their benefits have not been evenly distributed, contributing to regional, social, and economic inequities. A just transition requires balancing economic growth with fairness and sustainability. By implementing the right measures, Uganda can leverage its fossil fuel resources while promoting inclusive development, reducing inequalities, and building a resilient, low-carbon economy for the future."

– Tinah, Energy Justice Advocate, Uganda