Still Locked Out:

In 2005, a 10-year-old Tony Mulenzi fell sick with malaria. He was rushed to hospital, diagnosed and prescribed quinine, which at the time was one of the strongest and most commonly used drugs for treating malaria in Uganda. 

Two weeks later, Tony was feeling better. But something had changed. Whenever someone called him from a distance, he could not hear them. At first, his parents ignored the signs. With time, Tony completely lost his hearing. His parents had no resources to challenge what had happened medically. They tried traditional remedies, including pouring chicken fat into his ears, believing it would open them. Nothing worked. Tony was now deaf. And for his parents, that meant there was no longer a reason for him to continue going to school. 

“I remained home rearing cows,” Tony says. But Tony did not stay home for long. He would follow his friends to school and sit at the back of the classroom, watching the blackboard. Because he could not hear, the teachers assumed he would not learn anything. At the end of the term, Tony scored highly. In fact, he performed better than some of the pupils who could hear. That was the first time Tony discovered something that would follow him for the rest of his life: his disability was not the same thing as his ability.

Today, Tony has a bachelor’s degree in Procurement and Logistics Management from Kyambogo University. He has worked with different organisations and is now a Documentation and Learning Officer at Light for the World, where he works under the “We Can Work programme.” But getting there was not easy. After graduating, Tony struggled to find a job in procurement. 

“Before graduating from Kyambogo University I interned from the Parliament of Uganda. However, they have strict rules there and after graduation we couldn’t be retained,” he says. He later got opportunities to build other skills, including CV writing, data collection, research and storytelling. Tony was lucky. Many other young Ugandans with disabilities never get the opportunity to find out what they are capable of.

Uganda has approximately 5.5 million people living with some form of disability, representing 12.4 percent of the population, according to a Disability:In report. Yet persons with disabilities remain severely underrepresented in formal employment. Data cited in this story puts their share of formal employment at about 1.3 percent. The Equal Opportunities Commission has also documented the problem. In its assessment of employment among persons with disabilities, the Commission found that 49.6 percent of those interviewed were not employed, while only 9.2 percent were in formal employment. Another 41.2 percent were in informal employment. The Commission also identified poor implementation of existing legal provisions as one of the challenges affecting equal opportunities in employment. So the question is no longer whether Uganda has laws and institutions talking about inclusion. The question is: what happens when those promises reach the job market?

I got part of the answer when I met Lui Theoplas at Uganda Christian University. As I walk up the steep incline to Nkoyoyo Hall to meet Lui, the sun is beaming as usual. But I cannot help but stop and think to myself: how does a person using a wheelchair possibly go up and down this hill every day? At the top of the hill, Lui is already there, navigating his electric wheelchair as a classmate walks alongside him. For Lui, getting through university has already been an achievement. But graduating is not the part that worries him most. It is what comes after. The job market. Lui is studying journalism and hopes to build a career in the media. But his experience during an internship has already shown him how some employers see disability. 

“When I went for an internship at a major media house, an editor looked at me and asked how someone with a disability could run around in the field chasing stories,” Lui recalls. The question had already decided what Lui could not do before asking what he could. He says the editor overlooked the fact that journalism is not only about running around in the field. There is editorial work, production, scriptwriting and research.

Lui’s concern is shared by other young people with disabilities. The problem can begin even before the interview. Steven Opakrwot, who has a visual impairment, says some job advertisements are inaccessible to people who use screen readers. 

“Some jobs the adverts are inaccessible with our screen readers. Once you get to know the job is inaccessible, the process is already unfair on your side,” he says. Imagine spending years studying for a degree, only to discover that you cannot even complete the application for a job because the system was not designed with you in mind. That is where the conversation around inclusion becomes more complicated. Many organisations now put statements on job adverts saying persons with disabilities are encouraged to apply. But what does that actually mean? Does the application system work with screen readers? Is the interview venue accessible to someone using a wheelchair? Is reasonable accommodation available? And after someone is hired, are they actually given the same opportunity to grow?

Divine and Redivine, twin sisters born with dwarfism, say this is one of the frustrations they have experienced. “People now know that disabilities exist but practicals are less,” they say. They point to schools without ramps and workplaces where inclusion is talked about but not necessarily practised. Their frustration with employment is even more direct. They say some organisations advertise that persons with disabilities are encouraged to apply, but when they actually apply, they are not hired or are considered only for low-level positions. 

“Most companies that engage PWDs do it to tick a box for their partners,” Divine says. “We don’t want charity. We are educated, competent, and want to work based on merit.”

But what do employers say? At the Federation of Uganda Employers, Mr. Mustaphar Fagayo, Head of Human Resource and Consultancy, says the picture is not entirely one-sided. Fagayo says FUE’s work with organisations such as NUDIPU and Light for the World has helped employers understand that persons with disabilities can work and perform in the workplace. 

“At FUE we have gotten a lot of exposure to persons with disabilities and even organisations that advocate for PWDs,” he says. Through this exposure, Fagayo says employers have come to appreciate that employing a person with a disability should not be viewed as charity or simply as something done to satisfy partners. “If PWDs are given a chance, given reasonable accommodation, they can be able to work at the workplace,” he says. Fagayo says some employers have already embraced this approach, pointing to Coca-Cola, Nile Breweries and Uganda Breweries among major employers that have taken up disability inclusion. But his response raises another question. If some employers have already demonstrated that persons with disabilities can work when given reasonable accommodation, why does the experience of Lui, Steven, Assumpta and many others remain so different?

The answer may lie in what happens between the policy and the workplace. For an employer, hiring a person with a disability may require adjustments to the physical workplace, recruitment systems or communication methods. For the person looking for work, however, those adjustments can be the difference between being able to compete for a job and being excluded before the interview even begins. This is where government accountability comes in. The Equal Opportunities Commission is mandated to monitor and evaluate policies, programmes and practices to determine whether they comply with equal opportunities, and to investigate discrimination and marginalisation. Its own research shows that the problem is not simply a lack of laws. It is implementation. 

That raises an accountability question Uganda needs to answer. If an employer says persons with disabilities are encouraged to apply, who checks what happens after they apply? How many apply? How many are shortlisted? How many are hired? How many receive reasonable accommodation? How many are promoted? Without this information, it is difficult to know whether inclusion is actually happening or whether it has simply become a sentence placed at the bottom of a job advert.

But there are organisations trying to change what happens after the advert. At Light for the World, Tony works under the “We Can Work” programme, implemented in partnership with the Mastercard Foundation. The programme supports young people with disabilities to understand their abilities, develop skills and transition into employment or create their own livelihoods. What makes the programme different is that it does not only focus on training. It also tries to connect young people to employers and networks where those skills can actually be used. Tony explains that the programme is designed to support even young people who did not go far with formal education. “The program was designed to suit young people. Even a person who has not gone to school can still benefit from this program,” he says.

Steven is one of those young people. After graduating from Kyambogo University in 2024 with a bachelor’s degree in Community Development and Social Justice, he struggled to find employment. Through We Can Work, he received support to build his workplace skills and eventually got an opportunity to interview with the Children Rights and Violence Prevention Fund, where he secured a programmes internship. Steven says CRVPF has given him an opportunity to grow, learn and gain exposure. For him, the most important thing has been the environment around him. “With disability the most important tool you need around you is the positive social environment,” he says.

Assumpta Birungi also struggled after graduation. She has a hearing impairment and is hard of hearing. She says some employers would question how she would manage to work because of her disability. Her answer was simple. She did not need someone to do the job for her. She needed reasonable accommodation to do it herself. “After graduation, it wasn’t easy,” Assumpta says. “You mention that you have a disability and they are like, how are you going to work? We think you would not be able to manage with your disability.” She would explain to them that she only needed reasonable accommodation to do her job. She eventually joined the We Can Work programme and secured an internship in the finance department at CRVPF.

But not everyone who goes through the programme gets a formal job. Edward Sempowojjo is one example. Before acquiring his disability, Edward worked as a builder and also rode a boda boda to earn money. Then, on his way home from a construction site upcountry, he got into an accident. His leg was broken and his arm was injured. For Edward, everything changed almost immediately. 

“It is now three years back. From the hospital, after going through all those challenges, it was a very big challenge on my side. Actually, it traumatised me,” he says. He could no longer construct buildings. He could no longer do the work that had supported his family. His children stopped going to school because he could no longer afford the fees. His wife also had to stop attending catering classes. “The children did not remain the same,” Edward says. “They felt like all the things dad could do for us he can no longer do. He used to buy bread for us, he can no longer.” But Edward had previously developed an interest in making liquid soap. 

With support from Light for the World, he was trained to make detergents and given something to help him start. Today, he has a soap-making workshop. His dream is much bigger. “With my laundry detergent business, I think of having a very big land. I put their premises and I am very sure if I put up premises somewhere I can employ more people, even more than 5,000 people with disabilities,” he says.

Edward’s story shows what can happen when support is connected to something a person can actually build from. But it also shows the gap in the current system. Not everyone will get a formal job. Some will become entrepreneurs. Some will need workplace accommodation. Some will need accessible recruitment systems. Others will need someone to connect them to an employer willing to give them a chance. That means training alone cannot be the solution. Tony says the next step is connecting people to opportunities. “It is hard finding a job, so maybe they try to look for a job and fail to get,” he says. “What we do is if we can at least connect them to the networks where their skills fit, it can be a good one, not only training them and leaving them at that.”

This is where Uganda’s responsibility becomes bigger than simply encouraging employers to be inclusive. Inclusion has to be visible. If an organisation says persons with disabilities are encouraged to apply, there should be a way of knowing whether they were actually given a fair chance. If government institutions are responsible for monitoring equal opportunities, there should be a way of knowing what happens when institutions fail to provide them. And if employers say they are willing to hire persons with disabilities, that commitment should be reflected not just in recruitment, but in retention, promotion and leadership. Because inclusion should not end at the job advert.

Tony’s parents once looked at their deaf son and thought there was no point sending him to school. They were wrong. Tony followed his friends to class anyway. He sat at the back. He watched the blackboard. And he proved them wrong with his grades. Years later, the same lesson remains relevant. A person may have a disability. But that does not tell us what they can do. Only opportunity can. And until Uganda starts measuring who is actually getting those opportunities, inclusion risks remaining something that is promised on paper but much harder to find in real life. 

For Tony, one decision changed everything: he kept going to school even when the people around him believed there was no point. For the next Tony, Lui, Steven, Assumpta or Edward, the question is whether Uganda’s institutions and employers will make sure they do not have to fight that hard just to be given a chance.