Beyond Limits:
Disability Community Looks Past Resources to Build Sport Culture
Written by: Patience Ntoreine | Filmed by George Mukisa
Written by: Patience Ntoreine | Filmed by George Mukisa
It’s 4 p.m., and Geofrey Wakulira Kakeeto prepares for his evening wheelchair rugby training. He stretches his arms, straps into his chair, and wheels onto the court with a smile of purpose.
Once a truck driver, Wakulira lived a life of speed and independence until a tragic road accident left him with a spinal cord injury.
In a matter of seconds, everything changed. He was left bedridden, in constant pain, and abandoned by many—including his wife and even his parents.
“My parents left me in a separate room because they believed I was now useless,” he recalls.
But hope came unexpectedly. A friend, who also lives with a disability, invited him to attend a wheelchair basketball training then.
Wakulira went just to observe—but what he saw transformed him. A group of people like him—smiling, laughing, competing. That was the moment his healing began.
“I was amazed. They were just like me—but they were happy, active, and living fully,” he recounts.
Geoffrey Wokulira during a wheelchair rugby training exercise. Photo by Barbra Leni.
Gradually, Wakulira began with light exercises, then moved on to full training, and eventually joined the team.
“Wheelchair rugby has kept me flexible, active, and less vulnerable,” he says. Wakulira explains that playing sports has helped him meet many of the goals doctors recommend, especially staying physically active.
“There are times when I feel low or even depressed when I’m just at home,” he admits. “But once I get to the pitch and start playing, I feel engaged, alive, and mentally refreshed. It sharpens the brain—and every time you sweat, it’s like releasing all the stress.”
When he’s not training, Wakulira finds peace and dignity in farming, which supports his four children. “Farming has saved me,” he says. “It helps me provide for my family and stay grounded.
Wheelchair rugby is among the newest para-sports in Uganda, which was introduced in 2018 by Jairus Mukoota Wanyera, a disability advocate and athlete.
The sport, originally created for people with severe physical impairments such as spinal cord injuries and cerebral palsy—demands speed, strategy, and grit.
Globally, it traces back to 1948 in England, where it evolved from rehabilitation games for war veterans into a competitive discipline that was then known as “Mandaball.”
In Uganda, disability sports remain on the margins. Most para-athletes face overwhelming barriers, including inaccessible facilities, high equipment costs, limited training grounds, and societal stigma.
Sports wheelchairs, prostheses, and adaptive gear are expensive and often unavailable. As a result, athletes like Wakulira and his teammates rely on improvised tools and makeshift venues.
Players seen during wheelchair training. Photo by Barbra Leni.
Despite these challenges, Uganda’s para-sports scene is growing.
Organizations like the Uganda Paralympic Committee (UPC), Ability Sports Africa, and Special Olympics Uganda are promoting inclusivity, particularly at grassroots and school levels.
For example, Ability Sports Africa has trained 180 coaches and over 5,000 children who now actively participate in adaptive sports.
While Uganda’s national sports budget for 2024/25 stood at 282 billion UGX, most of it went to infrastructure—stadiums and general sports development. Very little is earmarked specifically for disability sports.
“Wheelchair rugby is an expensive sport to develop and promote,” says its pioneer Mukoota, now president of Wheelchair Rugby Uganda.
“From custom-made wheelchairs to protective gear, nothing comes cheap. We can’t train on rough surfaces. We can’t afford to get injured. It’s not just inconvenient; it’s dangerous,” he says.
Wakulira’s team receives minimal support, often depending on goodwill, donations, and social media campaigns.
According to Patrick Synole, director at UPC, the committee supports 21 disability sports associations with training, transportation, and international classification support. But funding limitations restrict how far these efforts can go.
Female wheelchair rugby player Rahma during training drills. Photo by Barbra Leni.
Mukoota recalls how he reached out to Spain for training support and submitted a proposal to the World Wheelchair Rugby body.
His passion got the sport approved in Uganda, but keeping it alive requires relentless lobbying, fundraising, and resilience.
Without strong government backing, many athletes are left to fund their equipment and travel costs. Still, the community thrives on peer mentorship, emotional support, and shared determination.
“It’s not just about playing—it’s about healing together, growing together,” Mukoota says.
The story of disability sport in Uganda is a reminder of sport’s capacity to rebuild lives.
Wakulira, was once gripped by despair after losing mobility at 16 due to a degenerative spinal condition. But wheelchair rugby offered her a second chance—not just to move, but to find friendship, purpose, and pride.
In Uganda, disability sports are still far from mainstream. The UPC continues to petition Parliament for increased budgetary allocation, policy changes, and recognition of para-sports in national calendars.
NGOs push to shift perceptions, build inclusive environments, and raise awareness of the abilities of disabled athletes.
Yet the fact remains: para-athletes are climbing an uphill battle.
With stronger political will, targeted funding, and media visibility, Uganda’s disabled athletes could reach even greater heights—competing, inspiring, and winning on both local and global stages.
© 2022 - Media Challenge Initiative | All Rights Reserved .
© 2022 - Media Challenge Initiative | All Rights Reserved .