#OutToLunch: Uber’s abrupt exit calls for regulation of international brands to protect users

By Denis Jjuuko

Ten years ago, Kampala was all the rage. Uber, the global taxi hailing app launched in Kampala with fanfare. The razzmatazz that comes with a global brand that promises to change the world. All our transport problems, at least in Kampala, would be sorted.

It was cool to order a Uber or arrive at a fancy party in one. If you hadn’t installed the app, you were being left behind. There was no need to buy a car. Uber would sort that at the fraction of the cost. If you had a car, it was so cool to use it as a Uber on your way to or from work. And if you didn’t like your boss, you could quit your job and become your own boss as a Uber driver. It wouldn’t get any fancy than that.

Some people cashed out their savings, bought a few corollas, got their cousins who had previously graduated from university and made them Uber drivers. Side hustle had never been so simple.

Special hire drivers cried. Calls placed to their previous customers went unanswered. The suitor had a new lover. You were exploitative. Uber transported someone to wherever they wanted at the cost of a chapati!

Some young people decided to create Uber for all sorts of things. Looking for somebody to wash your clothes over the weekend, a “uber” was created for that. Need a truck to transport something? There was a “uber” for it. Need a boda? Well, another “uber” was created before Uber itself introduced bodas.

Innovation hubs were full of ideas with young people dressed in hoodies spending all their time trying to create the next Uber. To be fair, it wasn’t just in Uganda. Every new innovation has somebody trying to replicate it for another industry. With apps like Uber and AirBnB and their early global success, other platforms for gig work or sharing were created everywhere. UpWork, Fiverr, DoorDash… the list is endless.

We were told the sharing economy was the new thing. That we didn’t need to own stuff. We could easily share. The problem though with international brands like Uber is that they can wake up and make a decision that affects many people. Like they did when they announced that they will no longer be available in Uganda. And within a few minutes, they were gone. They didn’t even have the courtesy to inform the drivers signed up on their app for at least a week. I believe some were even still processing the news and maybe even parked at malls waiting for clients only to realize that the application had gone mute. I believe those who hadn’t checked their communications platforms restarted their phones several times.

Developing economies like Uganda shouldn’t just allow these brands to come in, do and go as they wish. They can’t just be making abrupt decisions from Silicon Valley. Why couldn’t Uber give time before exiting the country? They could have given a 90-day notice so that their drivers and customers have enough time to prepare. To operate here, the government should force them to follow some rules and regulations.

Usually when they start offering service in smaller economies like ours, there is something they want which isn’t direct revenue. It is global presence that enables them to have an explosive initial public offering on the New York Stock Exchange or attract some funding. Once they achieve those goals, their mission is over and can do whatever they want especially where there is no regulation. In markets where they are regulated, they can’t just wake up and announce that they have closed.

Also, the actions of brands like Uber mean that there is a need to identify our challenges and find applicable solutions. For many years, I wonder whether Uber drivers made any money. The rates were so low prompting many of them to try to negotiate out of the app.

What had made Uber appealing to drivers was the near guarantee of a return trip. Unlike a special hire (cab), the driver would be able to find a customer after dropping off somebody. That increasingly became difficult yet the rates remained low.

When fuel prices went up, Uber didn’t respond appropriately. Apparently, increments had to follow some policy created based on the American or western European economy. Bad roads and traffic jams were never factored in.

Ugandans largely drive old cars which means that they consume a lot of fuel and susceptible to breakdowns. If the roads are potholed, maintenance and repair become costly. An unregulated global brand wouldn’t care much about that while setting rates especially when they don’t own the asset that guarantees their return (25% of each trip in the case of Uber). Regulation of global brands is critical in protecting the interests of users.

The writer is a communication and visibility consultant. djjuuko@gmail.com

Tags: American, Denis Jjuuko, global taxi, Government of Uganda ., Kampala, Out to Lunch, Prime Time Communications, Uber, western European economy

Out to Lunch

#OutToLunch: Medical apprenticeship programs critical in improving diagnosis and treatment

By Denis Jjuuko You probably know somebody who after trying many healthcare facilities, they were told there was nothing wrong with them and they should go back home. The symptoms persisted though and the more facilities they visited, the more they were told the same. Sometimes they were given painkillers to psychologically manage them. Desperate, they visited a traditional healer whose Thursday clinic deep in the village is thronged by many people who share similar experiences. The healer is basking in glory. He saved so and so; his marketing team disguising themselves as waiting clients assure them. After a few months of some relief, the pain comes back and this time more excruciating. But since they tried everything and failed, they give up and wait to die. And indeed, they die. At their funeral, we claim that it was God’s plan! Well, if you don’t know anyone who has gone through that, at least you heard of King Oyo’s story. The now deceased Tooro Kingdom leader visited some high-end hospitals in Kampala after feeling persistent backpain. X-rays, MRI scans later, they told him they saw nothing. Being a person of means, he flew to a hospital in Nairobi where he was diagnosed with cancer. A year later he was dead. What did the people in Nairobi saw that the Kampala ones couldn’t? Well, Nairobi has a PET Scan or a few. Kampala and the whole of Uganda don’t. A PET Scan costs about US$3m or approximately 17 Landcruisers. If there was a meeting of government officials, you would run out of space to park them. That is how many we have in Uganda but a PET Scan is not something we have been able to buy and install yet. But it isn’t just the lack of technology that is a problem. You can have a PET Scan and still fail to diagnose a patient properly. Patients aren’t sent for a PET Scan on their first visit to a clinic as it is rarely used as a diagnostic test rather one that determines an extent of the disease. Other tests have to be done. And still a diagnosis can be missed depending on who has done the scan or X-ray and the reading of the results. If for example a child has a bone tumor, a pediatric radiologist would probably pick up the first signs that an adult radiologist may easily miss. Even then, the doctors who ordered the tests and other specialists can sit as a group and discuss what they are seeing. They may even disagree. After that, they could order for a biopsy and eventually a PET Scan if it is needed. You see, that means that you need to have a team of specialists with not only adequate training but also experience that exposed them to a diverse spectrum of patient diseases and how to diagnose them. If you only train in Uganda and practice in Uganda for a year or two, it is most likely you won’t be able to diagnose many diseases even with advanced technologies at your disposal. Doctors in Europe struggle to diagnose and even treat malaria, which is many times chicken feed to Ugandan doctors. When did your doctor last consult anyone before prescribing drugs? Most likely he or she listened to you, sent you to the lab, looked at the results and sent you to the pharmacy or told you to go back home. Isn’t that likely to lead to a wrong diagnosis? I am not saying that a team needs to look at each and every case but you get the drift. To have good doctors in Uganda, there is a need for a robust apprenticeship program so that the graduate doctors can learn from as many experts as possible. When we spend years discussing intern doctors’ wages, it means we are delaying their learning. They aren’t getting the right exposure from the seniors. And if they aren’t properly apprenticed, they will not become good doctors. There is no two ways about it. We also need to have a critical number of health workers sent elsewhere for exposure. They should learn how medicine is practiced elsewhere while getting exposed to different diseases and treatment methods. Government should be talking for example to American hospitals for medical residency. We could send some to Aga Khan in Nairobi as well. Those who are sent by government, they should be contracted and incentivized to come back to work here. The right technology and generally good working conditions should be in place. Upon return, they should train others through apprenticeships. They should spend a certain number of hours a week for a few years in public hospitals with the list of young doctors they have mentored as part of their deliverables. Ensure that those trained doctors remain in hospital wards too. This is actually cheaper than sending politically connected patients abroad for treatment because Uganda can only send so many. The writer is a communication and visibility consultant. djjuuko@gmail.com

October 26, 2026

Out to Lunch

#OutToLunch: Corporate farmers, side hustlers must pay “school fees” to succeed

By Denis Jjuuko Over the weekend, a video surfaced online of a Kenyan who grew watermelons, looked for buyers, loaded them to the city, failed to sell them, stored them and they fermented overnight. The video went viral largely because many Ugandans especially those who hold day jobs in corporate bodies could relate. Known as ‘corporate farmers’ and under pressure to have a side hustle, many start businesses such as farming. These ventures — small gardens or even large farms, salons, clothing shops (known as boutiques), bufundas (small bars), grocery shops (labeled supermarkets), and restaurants among others are everywhere. One in Uganda must be seen to be doing a side hustle business or they are considered failures. There is a historical perspective to it. In the 1990s, many civil servants were retrenched and had no jobs. Kids saw how their parents or guardians without any other income suffered and swore not to suffer the same fate. In order to avoid those missteps, many decide to be different. Those who survived retrenchment saw their mothers open grocery shops at universities or doctors’ villages to supplement the family income. Today, many people are driven to start farming. Favourable weather patterns, abundant arable land, a growing population, affordable labour etc. On paper and indeed like for most businesses, it is all rosy. It doesn’t, however, take long before stories start springing up on social media platforms. Grown something and got nothing out, the platform is available to broadcast. But for many, the desire for a side hustle is hard to contain. In order to be different from their parents and grandparents, today’s side hustlers tend to think differently. Like the Kenyan watermelon man, if you harvest a sizeable number of them, hire a truck and take them to the market yourself, you would cut out the middlemen and make significant returns than if you sold them at the farm. Without much research or due diligence, the corporate farmer arrives at the market and everyone laughs at them. Nobody is willing to buy. There is a story of man in a suburb just outside Kampala known as Muvunza. The story goes that he one day arrived in Kampala with a truckful of matooke from his garden. He moved around several markets in Kampala and they were giving him peanuts per a bunch. He decided to offload the matooke at his home and watch them rot. The locals nicknamed him Muvunza (the one who lets stuff rot). Many corporate farmers or side hustlers are Muvunzas. If they are not letting matooke rot in their compound, they throwing money after money in ventures that are not sustainable or profitable. High rents, taxes, a small customer base and many other hinderances don’t enable them to make profit. Sometimes they don’t know because the salaries at their formal jobs cushion them from these losses. It is when they start running these businesses fulltime that they realize that the ventures were sinkholes. The main challenge for most hustlers is lack of experience or giving up before they have paid what Ugandans call “school fees.” For every venture, it will take time for the entrepreneur to crack it. To establish a network of clients or to be known for doing something requires time. If watermelons are your thing, the traders in Nakasero, Nakawa or Kalerwe markets won’t know you if you deliver once and even on the wrong day. They already have their suppliers. So, you will need to court them over time. They aren’t going to abandon guys they have been dealing with for the last 10 years just because you have shown up with a truck of watermelons or tomatoes. Maybe you even arrived when they stocked up a day before. You convince them one by one over a period of time. If you are to do farming and you do it for one season, there is no way you are going to succeed. Those who succeed do it for over time. Some seasons they make profits. Other seasons they make losses. Once they gain experience, they can then stabilize and be able to predict their incomes. By this time, the “school fees” paid have started to provide a return on investment. Networks have been established That is how traders in the Kampala markets start to call and place orders before even the seller arrives. That is how credit lines are established. That basically means that there is no excuse for experience. The writer is a communication and visibility consultant. djjuuko@gmail.com

October 22, 2026

Out to Lunch

#OutToLunch: Moses Matovu defined music. Others must posthumously learn from him

By Denis Jjuuko When news started filtering through that Moses Matovu had been killed in Kibuli last Thursday, the first question I asked myself was who would want him dead? I can’t claim to have known Moses Matovu very well. I only met him a few times; the first while interviewing him more than 20 years ago for a newspaper I worked for. The other occasions were whenever I was involved in organizing events and his Afrigo Band was set to perform. He was always calm and even measured. He dressed smartly and there was hardly a hair out of place. His army green Land Rover always looked immaculate and you could think he wasn’t driving it in dusty Kampala. You never saw it with a coat of dust. Moses Matovu also known by Papa Moi carried the personality of a man who had seen it all. Indeed, he had, having started performing when people reading this were not even yet born. He survived the turbulent 1970s and early 1980s when Uganda was engulfed in wars and extrajudicial killings. Some of his colleagues were actually killed. His band equipment was looted during those days but he didn’t give up. He re-assembled his ensemble and got back to work. Deaths of his fellow colleagues didn’t stop Afrigo. Last year in August, his legendary band celebrated its 50th anniversary with a deserving performance at the Millennium Grounds in Lugogo. Hopefully his death won’t be the end of a group that represent the best of Ugandan music even though we will miss his melodious voice. One could only hope that over the last 51 years or so, he had time to mentor others who could take over from him. Afrigo Band didn’t last this long in the industry known to have a high mortality rate because of just the vocal and saxophonizing ability of Moses Matovu. They are a disciplined lot. I have never heard that Afrigo was booked to perform somewhere and they didn’t turn up or turned up drunk and unable to perform. You didn’t hear them spend half their performance time talking about haters. Or even performing when their soul wasn’t there. Unlike today’s bands, you hardly saw them reading the songs off their smartphones strapped on the microphone stands. They only performed songs they knew at heart or had spent time practicing. They arrived on time and indeed finished their shows on time. Today, there is a band performing somewhere every single day. Many of these bands actually have large followings but I doubt any of them will be around for half the time Afrigo has been on stage. Once they become famous, they split and each member starts a band. Soon after, you see interviews on TikTok when one group is dissing the other. Each splinter group accusing the other of greed, unprofessionalism and all sort of things. Before you know it, the groups are all struggling to create a distinctive brand and then you hear one member disappeared with the drums, another with a keyboard. In Afrigo, Herman Ssewanyana a.k.a Omwana w’Ensenene has been with the band for 44 years. Joanita Kawalya for 36 years. Rachael Magoola for as long as one can remember. Even when she was elected Member of Parliament, she remained with the band. Each of those people I mention and many others could have started offshoots of Afrigo. They didn’t. They instead remained together and built a brand like no other. But also, Afrigo don’t just do covers. They don’t just recruit singers who can’t sing. They don’t appear to read songs instead of singing them. And most importantly, they have their distinctive voice. If you are abruptly woken up, you could immediately tell that it is Afrigo performing. I think because they have their own songs. Many other bands, you have to first see the vocalists to tell which one it is. And they all follow the same performance format. Start with ballads and end with Congolese songs! Why are today’s bands unable to have their own songs? How can a band, even those with good vocalists and other musicians be unable to record just one original song? How can they be comfortable to only perform other people’s songs for years (for those which are good enough to last a year or more)? Why should anyone pay a band Shs5m or even Shs7m to do karaoke at their wedding or any other events? Why should we actually pay bands to sing Afrigo songs? There is quite a lot to learn from Moses Matovu, unfortunately now, posthumously. The writer is a communications and visibility consultant. djjuuko@gmail.com

October 22, 2026