Our undercover investigation highlights how easily corruption and unclear borders continue to undermine the charcoal ban in Uganda.
When Mustapha Gerima decided to drop in on his home village of Midigo in northern Uganda's Yumbe district in 2016, he never imagined the visit would change the whole trajectory of his life. He was back in the country for medical treatment, having been working for nearly two decades as a biology teacher in Tanzania, and wanted to remind himself of the lush landscapes he had long associated with his ancestral home.
Yet as Gerima, now 52, drew closer to Midigo, his excitement turned to shock. The verdant forests that he remembered had been replaced with tree stumps and sunbaked soils. The once tranquil roads constantly rumbled as fleets of trucks piled high with charcoal and logs streamed southwards.
As Gerima realised what had been happening to the once rich environment of his homeland, he felt a weight of responsibility on his shoulders. He resolved to quit teaching and move his family back to Uganda. "An ecological war is going on," he says. "I have to fight for our beloved shea trees".
In the last couple of decades, northern Uganda has become a growing hub for commercial charcoal burning and logging. These industries, which supply neighbouring nations such as Kenya as well as those as far as the Middle East, have contributed to Uganda having one of the highest deforestation rates in the world. From 1990 to 2018, forest cover declined from 24% to just 9%.
One of the major hotspots for charcoal production is Mount Kei Central Forest Reserve, near to Gerima's village. Located along the "shea belt", the former white rhino sanctuary is endowed with endangered tree species such as shea and Afzelia Africana trees that are particularly prized by charcoal burners for their high wood density.
Last year, the government of Uganda banned commercial charcoal production in an attempt to protect depleting forests. Nonetheless, the lucrative trade has continued to boom under the alleged watch of high-ranking army personnel and politicians. The involvement of corrupt officials in illicit smuggling is an open secret in Uganda. When issuing his executive order banning charcoal, President Yoweri Museveni explicitly called out "security groups and government agencies" for their role in the industry, noting that "locals now hold the security people in great contempt".
Gerima has been trying to oppose deforestation through a variety of strategies. In 2020, he embarked on a 644km protest walk from Parliament in Kampala, Uganda, to the offices of the UN Environment Programme in Nairobi, Kenya, to raise awareness and advocate for greater action. He has distributed tree seedlings through his Save the Shea Nut Tree Movement, and he has worked with "community scouts" and local leaders to track illegal charcoal dealing in his district. This has sometimes led to naming-and-shaming campaigns that have publicly called out army officials, politicians, and businesspeople involved in charcoal smuggling on radio shows, on social media, and at community outreach sessions.
"What are we supposed to do when the very people who are supposed to protect our environment are the ones destroying it for profits?" asks Gerima. "This is pure selfishness...We have no choice but to do whatever it takes to protect mother nature for our future generation - even if it means exposing those criminals in broad daylight".
This confrontational approach comes with significant risks. Gerima has been shot at when trying to take photos of charcoal traders and had his house broken into shortly after exposing a local politician on the radio. He has received numerous death threats and been forced into hiding for months at a time. Given the influential networks involved in illegal smuggling, those who oppose them rarely feel safe.
This even applies to officials whose job it is to enforce laws. When Swaib Andama was Yumbe District Forest Officer, he often came up against powerful interests involved in smuggling. He eventually resigned in 2015 believing his life was in danger.
"They say a fish rots from the head," says Andama. "Sometimes when you impound somebody's truck with charcoal, you receive a phone call from Kampala saying 'Why have you impounded my truck? Do you know who I am?"
Andama, who is now the Yumbe District Environment Office, says local leaders continue to allow traders to operate freely in the district.
Traders exploit "unclear" borderlines
The location of Mount Kei Central Forest, situated along Uganda's border with South Sudan, further complicates attempts to crack down on the illegal charcoal business. Territorial tensions between the two countries have long existed, but they have escalated in the past year with South Sudanese forces launching a number of cross-border attacks. In January 2024, for instance, a group of South Sudanese soldiers entered Kerwa sub-country in Yumbe district, assaulting locals, planting their national flag, and asserting claims to the territory.
The insecurity in the region makes enforcing the charcoal ban even more difficult for conservation authorities like Uganda's National Forestry Authority (NFA).
"There are parts of the [Mount Kei] forest that I have never been to," says Milton Nyeko, the NFA Regional Range Manager in charge of West Nile region, which contains Yumbe. "How do you go to a place that is unstable?"
He explains that the porous borders make it almost impossible to verify where charcoal has come from and if it has violated Uganda's ban or been brought in from South Sudan. For now, he says, they are only able to protect "some sections of the forest in Uganda".
"Fixing the border would help us end this mess," says Nyeko. "We urgently need clarity to know where our jurisdiction lies in order to protect our forests".
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An undercover operation by African Arguments makes clear how straightforward it is to circumvent Uganda's charcoal ban. This reporter posed as a trader interested in buying large quantities of charcoal in Amuruku village. A week later, I had been introduced to a man in a Ugandan military uniform who I was told was a "connector". He promised to connect me to some "middlemen" who would take charcoal across the border to Kajo-Kei county, in South Sudan, and then bring it back to Uganda through the official border.
"The intention is to get a customs seal," he explained. "It is to show that the charcoal is from South Sudan and not from Uganda."
The Uganda Revenue Authority (URA) did not respond to questions despite multiple requests.
The Uganda Peoples' Defence Forces (UPDF) spokesperson, Brig Gen. Felix Kulayigye told African Arguments that "negotiations are ongoing between Uganda and South Sudan to resolve the border issue amicably". He said: "we are yet to investigate whether our army is involved in the charcoal trade at the border".
Gerima was not surprised at how easy it seems to find individuals willing to smuggle charcoal through South Sudan to circumvent the ban. "Anything is possible in Uganda," he says. After years of activism, he believes that ultimately one thing can stop the illegal charcoal trade and save the shea trees. "Cutting out the cancer: corruption".
John Okot is a freelance journalist based in Gulu, northern Uganda.
