When I first arrived in Nakivale, I thought all I could do was wait—for food, for resettlement, for luck. But waiting didn’t feed my family. So I started small.
With 10,000 Ugandan shillings and an idea, I began selling fried cassava near the football field. At first, people laughed. Then they tasted. And they came back.
Today, I run a small kiosk where I sell snacks, phone airtime, and sometimes soap. It’s not a big business, but it’s mine. I built it with my hands and my hope.
Around me, others are doing the same—tailors turning old fabric into dresses, women making peanut butter from groundnuts, youth offering phone repairs and typing services. We don’t have capital, but we have skills, community, and the will to try.
Business in Nakivale isn’t just about money—it’s about dignity.
It’s how we say: I’m still here. I can still build something.
And that is powerful.
