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My Nyamiyaga boys and I were driving to Kyadondo recently after a week of a busy schedule when one of them, annoyed by a reckless taxi driver, burst out, “Ogu akegyera nkahi?” (Where did he study from?)
I laughed, then wondered, “Where do taxi drivers learn from?). They get permits and hit the road, weaving through traffic with reckless abandon. That moment felt like a mirror of our country.
We push forward with determination, but our foundations are shaky. Recent PLE results show widespread exam malpractice, tens of thousands ungraded, and fewer than 20 per cent demonstrating higher ability levels.
It made me question how seriously we are developing real capacity. We have enormous potential. From the hustle and bustle of Kampala to the serene hills of Kabale, to my windy Nyamiyaga and to the dry plains of Napak, we are all eager to learn, grow, and contribute to the nation’s development.
And the government has done a lot to avail opportunities for learning. The flip is on our side. Yet, despite these efforts, we face persistent challenges in harnessing our human capital effectively.
The problem isn’t a lack of effort; it’s a matter of coordination. Ministries, agencies, the private sector, NGOs, and development partners are all facilitating some training programs, many of which overlap.
You may attend five workshops on leadership, accumulating certificates but not necessarily new skills. This fragmented approach leads to capacity growth on paper but not in practice. The consequences are evident.
People trained in isolation struggle to collaborate effectively. Harmonising capacity development doesn’t mean centralising everything; it means aligning efforts with national goals.
Every training – from vocational centres to university short courses – should serve Uganda’s development priorities. A nurse in Kyarusozi, an engineer in Arua, and a taxi driver in Kitayunjwa could all be part of a national drive to improve services, productivity, and integrity.
Quality matters. Too often, training is an event, not a process. We learn because it is a requirement. People attend for allowances, not lessons. Trainers bring outdated materials. Participants bring empty minds.
Organisers bring reports and photographs. Real learning takes time, mentoring, and follow- up. A two-day workshop cannot end corruption. A short course cannot create a true leader. The theory of transformation of quantity into quality and vice versa begs a little here.
Values matter too. Skill without integrity is useless. Nationalising certain institutions, or more pragmatically, rationalising them, would not mean destroying private innovation but ensuring public purpose.
When capacity building is left purely to market forces, to this monster of capitalism, it becomes a race to profit rather than a pursuit of competence and national interests. Digital tools could help.
A national skills database would track training programs, spot overlaps, and reveal gaps. Ministries, universities, and professional bodies could coordinate. We would finally move from counting certificates to measuring real competence.
Social and environmental responsibility should guide learning. Uganda’s challenges of pollution, poor health, climate change, and tax gaps are linked to how knowledge is used. Knowledge should be for a purpose, not aimless, unless it’s aim is to create the opposite or another intention.
Capacity development should train problem-solvers. Agriculture courses should teach sustainability. Health programs should teach prevention. Aligning learning with the country’s needs will stop repeating the same mistakes. Sometimes, less is more.
Not every training centre or programme adds value. Some recycle old content or exist to raise funds. Closing weak centres isn’t punishment; it’s maturity. A few strong, credible institutions are worth more than dozens of weak ones producing certificates and selfies.
At its best, capacity development makes a nation smarter, faster, and fairer. It gives people tools, discipline, and confidence. Uganda has the energy and ambition. And results will show.
Efficient services. Innovative businesses. Ethical leaders. Communities that solve problems without waiting for donors. Success will be visible in cleaner towns, accountable institutions, and people proud of their work.
Nelson Mandela reminds us: “Education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world.”
Do we want to change Uganda? Uganda’s literacy rate stands at 80.59 per cent as of 2022, an improvement from 69.1 per cent in 2016. However, this is slightly below the global average of 86.3 per cent.
The labour force participation rate is 69.72 per cent, indicating that a substantial portion of the working-age population is actively seeking employment. Comparatively, countries such as Singapore, and Germany have made significant strides in capacity development.
Singapore’s Skills Future initiative, launched in 2015, is something worth copying. The Germans’ dual education system that combines apprenticeships with vocational education, ensuring that students gain practical experience alongside theoretical knowledge, resulting in low youth unemployment rates is good to learn from too.
Uganda can learn from other countries by establishing a national skills database, aligning training programmes with market needs, focusing on quality, promoting ethical standards, and using technology.
Capacity development is like building muscle: it takes coordination, repetition, and patience, and doing it poorly leads to fatigue. By aligning efforts, Uganda can harness talent effectively, creating a skilled, ethical, and productive workforce that drives progress towards Vision 2040.
The author is a political analyst.
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