- Changing rainfall patterns have led to increasingly frequent flooding in western Uganda’s Kasese district, destroying farmers’ homes and fields.
- The damage is exacerbated by the loss of tree cover, as many trees have been cut down by locals for firewood.
- Janet Nyakairu Abwoli from Kasese organizes workshops to teach women how to plant and care for trees, particularly Dracaena and Ficus species.
- These native species can help prevent erosion of slopes and riverbanks, retain soil moisture, and provide fodder for small livestock and ingredients for traditional medicine.
KASESE DISTRICT, Uganda — In western Uganda’s Kasese district, where the Rwenzori Mountains meet the sprawling plains of Queen Elizabeth National Park, Janet Nyakairu Abwoli is on a mission to rejuvenate her land and empower her community. Farmers here long enjoyed fertile soil and predictable weather, but over the past 20 years, rainfall has become increasingly erratic. Frequent flooding has caused the district’s principal river to flood, uprooting homes and washing away fields.
Abwoli’s answer to this is to plant trees.
Standing in the dappled shade of a grove of young Ficus, she smiles and gestures towards the hillside. “We don’t just plant trees,” she says. “We plant hope.”
Evelyn Mugume, the environment officer for Kasese municipality, says that rainfall patterns in the district have changed. “We used to expect rains by August 15, but now they start in mid-September. Floods have become a common phenomenon, even in areas without rivers, washing away crops, homes, and livelihoods,” she tells Mongabay.
“The temperatures, seasons, and patterns of rainfall and drought have all shifted noticeably. In the past 10 to 20 years, we have seen prolonged droughts and intense, shorter rainfalls that are insufficient for crop yield and production.”
In response to this new situation, the Ugandan government and civil society organizations have promoted planting trees as a solution. They are encouraging people in Kasese district to plant native species, which are more resistant to pests and diseases and offer ecological and socio-economic benefits.
“Every rainy season, people come to us for indigenous trees,” says Mugume. “But it’s not just about planting trees, it’s about understanding their purpose and the role they play in our survival.”
Mugume says the Kasese municipality has established nurseries to provide free tree seedlings, particularly to women, to support reforestation efforts.
Eight years ago, Abwoli began organizing women to plant Ficus trees near their homesteads to provide shade and help control erosion, and Dracaena trees on their fields to retain soil moisture.
The power of trees
Ficus trees quickly became central to her initiative. These trees, she explains, grow fast and their wide canopies provide shade for crops and homes. Their root systems help to hold the soil together, preventing erosion along riverbanks and on slopes, and they also act as windbreaks, safeguarding plantations of bananas, coffee and other crops.
In a region like Rwenzori, where many people herd goats, the leaves of Ficus trees are also a source of fodder.
Dracaena is a family of drought-resistant trees and shrubs widely distributed across Africa and southern Asia. D. afromontana, the Dracaena species most commonly found in Uganda, is traditionally planted to mark the boundaries of family plots of land by the Bakonzo, one of the several ethnic groups that call Kasese district home.
Across Uganda, people also value Dracaena species for its medicinal properties, making use of the plants’ leaves and roots to treat ailments like coughs and stomach issues.
Ficus trees, known as omutoma in the Lukonzo language, also hold cultural value for the Bakonzo, often planted on a family’s land as a symbol of heritage and lineage. Despite this, residents often cut these trees down for firewood as they are easy to fell, although the high moisture content and fibrous, low-density branches of Dracaena make poor fuel.
A nursery for culture
Abwoli organizes workshops to teach women how to plant and care for these trees, recovering their multiple benefits on farms and around homesteads. Her appreciation of the trees’ value comes from her grandmother, who taught her about the medicinal and ecological importance of native trees. “What I’m teaching isn’t new,” she says. “It’s what our ancestors practiced before deforestation took over.”
Reviving the planting and protection of these trees in Kasese district represents both a practical response to environmental challenges and the strengthening of the cultural connection.
Her efforts are gaining recognition in the broader community, with local leaders and even schoolteachers inviting her to speak about her work. Some women are now teaching their children to plant and care for trees, ensuring that Abwoli’s legacy will continue.
“Women like Abwoli are pillars of our community,” says Mugume. “Through their efforts, we see how indigenous trees can restore degraded landscapes and build resilience against climate change.”
Some of the women who planted trees with Abwoli eight years ago are seeing remarkable results. One of the women, Jannet Kabugho, says the trees have transformed her farmland.
“My maize doesn’t dry out like it used to, and the soil stays moist even during the dry season,” Nyakairu says. Some women also harvest and sell Dracaena leaves for medicinal purposes.
“It’s not just about planting trees,” Abwoli emphasizes in her sessions. “It’s about protecting what sustains us.”
However, some of the more recently planted areas have not done as well. In one village, over half of the seedlings failed due to poor watering practices, Kabugho says a problem Abwoli attributes to a lack of resources and commitment.
The seedlings being planted across the district come from a mix of sources. Abwoli grows some herself in a backyard nursery, while others come from the municipal government or are donated by NGOs such as WWF.
“The cost of acquiring and maintaining seedlings poses a significant challenge for many families in Kasese,” she tells Mongabay. “A single Ficus seedling that is ready to germinate and grow firmly in the garden costs about 5,000 Ugandan shillings ($1.50). Additionally, one needs a watering can to ensure regular irrigation until the seedling establishes firmly in the ground.”
For families whose livelihoods rest on subsistence farming, any cash they have is spent on essentials like school fees, medical expenses, and clothing. Even when they appreciate the long-term benefits, investing several thousand shillings is often seen as a luxury they cannot afford.
“We want to save our land and environment,” Abwoli says, “but the upfront costs make it difficult for most people to start.”
Trees planted by women who have ready access to water sources or additional labor often thrive. But, says Mugume, those burdened with heavy domestic workloads, including fetching water and firewood to cook, find it difficult to dedicate the time and energy needed to look after their seedlings.
“I tried planting, but the goats ate everything,” says Maria Kanyere, a widow raising three children. “I don’t have time to fence them off.”
Johnson Karehero, Kasese district’s officer for natural resources, says he acknowledges the obstacles. “Abwoli’s model aligns with our mission to protect indigenous tree species and restore degraded areas,” he says. “We must build on her initiative with additional support for tools and training to sustain these efforts.”
Banner image: Janet Nyakiru Abwoli, Kasese district, Uganda. Image by Innocent Kiiza for Mongabay.
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