There comes a time when people must choose between what is easy and what is right. For us, that moment stands at the edge of Kitubulu Forest-a serene, green heartbeat that has protected Entebbe for generations. To me, Kitubulu has never just been a forest. It embodies the scent of clean air after rain, the gentle rustle of leaves that heralds the arrival of the lake breeze, and the shade under which our town seems to breathe.
It provides Entebbe not only with scenic beauty but also with a natural rhythm that has balanced our growth with tranquility. Even as a child, I didn’t know the term ‘ecosystem,’ but I understood that when Kitubulu whispered, the entire town listened. Today, that same forest stands but faces threats. This issue transcends politics and personal ambition; it is about truth, reason, and love for one’s country. Kitubulu is not merely soil and trees; it is a living barrier that protects Lake Victoria and the lives of thousands of Ugandans who live, work, and raise their children along its shores.
Every time the rains come and the waters rise, it is Kitubulu that quietly absorbs the impact. The forest takes the brunt of the force so that our homes, roads, hospitals, and schools are not overwhelmed by flooding. No wall of concrete or imported design could perform this task as faithfully as this forest does-naturally, freely, and selflessly. Yet today, this sacred space is being considered for destruction in the name of ‘investment.’
Let me be clear: I am not against investors. Uganda welcomes them, and Entebbe thrives because of their contributions. However, investment must never come at the expense of the environment. True progress is not measured by the number of buildings we erect but by how wisely we balance development with preservation.
What is being proposed for Kitubulu-a hotel project by the Tian Tiang Group-is neither urgent nor necessary. Entebbe does not lack hotels; we have the capacity for them. What we truly lack is balance and respect for the natural systems that protect us.
As mayor of Entebbe, I see daily how this forest quietly safeguards our community. It ensures that children in Katabi and Nakiwogo can sleep safely when the lake swells, and it is why our roads hold up, our gardens thrive, and our lake remains vibrant. To destroy Kitubulu would be akin to signing a death warrant for Entebbe’s ecological balance.
We are not opposing development; we are resisting distortion.
We are not fighting against progress; we are pushing back against the arrogance that equates destruction with modernity. Uganda’s development narrative must not involve trading nature for concrete or peace for profit. The rest of the world is planting trees, restoring wetlands, and combating climate change. Why should we, blessed with one of Africa’s greatest lakes, be the ones cutting down the very lungs that sustain us? Kitubulu is not an obstacle to progress; it is its guardian.
When floods come- and they will, as climate change continues to escalate- it will not be investors or machines that stand between us and the rising waters. It will be Kitubulu. When history recounts this chapter, may it never forget that the people of Entebbe stood for their forest, listening when it spoke.