For many Ugandans, theatre was simply a stage for plays, but in the late 1980s and 1990s, it developed into a powerful tool for public health. During a period when HIV was poorly understood and surrounded by rumours, theatre bridged the gap between science and society. It enabled people to confront the epidemic in a language they understood and through characters who reflected their own fears and choices.
Plays such as Gampisi, Hydra, and Ndiwulira defined this era, capturing the grief and anxiety that permeated the country. However, none left a deeper impact than Bakayimbira Dramactors’ Ndiwulira. Named after the destructive maize weevil, the play follows the tragic journey of Muwanga, a young man who returns home from abroad infected with HIV. Angry, ashamed, and afraid, he vows to take revenge by infecting any woman he encounters. The production was raw and unsettling, forcing audiences to confront the consequences of risky behaviour in a way that no poster or pamphlet could.
Ndiwulira toured across the country, filling halls and school compounds, and was even performed for President Museveni and his family in Rwakitura in 1992. It was later televised on UTV and taken abroad, spreading its message far beyond the stage.
Actor Aloysius Matovu Joy says the play frightened people into being cautious, awakening an entire generation to the dangers of unprotected sex. Many still say it changed and possibly saved their lives.
This period also saw the rise of other influential productions. It Is Not Easy, starring the legendary Charles Mulekwa, broke new ground by tackling stigma on national television. It followed Suuna, an HIV-positive man who was rejected by his colleagues, prompting viewers to examine their own prejudices. Yellow Card addressed HIV among young people, demonstrating that the virus did not discriminate by age and could disrupt dreams as swiftly as it shattered relationships.
At that time, Kampala had more than 200 vibrant drama groups. Names such as Black Pearl, Banabugabo Theatre, The Shavians, The Planets, Mulago Theatrical Kings, Ngabo Players, and Ndere Troupe infused creative energy into a country desperate for information and hope. For a moment, theatre became not just entertainment but a vital national service.
When the curtain began to fall
Like all movements, Uganda’s HIV-theatre wave began to fade. Matovu believes the decline has less to do with talent and willingness and more with shifting audience interests and dwindling support. As social media, television dramas and digital entertainment grew, traditional theatre began to feel slow and outdated, especially among young people.
The urgency of the early epidemic also subsided, and with it, the fear that once drew crowds to HIV-themed dramas.
Funding became another major obstacle. Many drama groups of the 80s and 90s thrived because non-governmental organisations and government bodies invested in theatre-based sensitisation. As those priorities shifted toward clinical interventions, data-driven programmes and digital campaigns, budget lines for community theatre dried up. Without financial support, many groups disbanded, and HIV plays all but disappeared from major stages.
Technology, too, reshaped the landscape. Young audiences who once relied on theatre for information now consume content through smartphones and social platforms. Traditional drama, with its long scenes, live audiences and logistical costs, struggles to compete with the immediacy and convenience of short videos, skits and digital influencers.
Yet even in the middle of this decline, theatre did not die. It merely changed form.
The modern landscape
Today, theatre continues to play a role in Uganda’s HIV response, though in quieter, more adaptive ways. Youth Theatre Uganda (YTU) is one example of this new evolution.
Instead of relying solely on live performances, the group produces school-based dramas alongside filmed skits and digital content that circulates on YouTube, TikTok and WhatsApp. Their approach acknowledges that audiences now live both offline and online, and effective communication must reach them in both spaces.
Across the country, organisations such as Action 4 Health Uganda (A4HU) work with youth drama groups trained in Theatre for Development. These groups travel from village to village, using humour, music and relatable stories to demystify HIV testing and encourage open discussion. Their plays often spark community conversations long after the actors have left the stage.
Public Health Ambassadors Uganda (PHAU) has embraced a similar blend of creativity and technology. Through spoken word, dance, and street performances, they combat stigma and promote prevention, while also utilising digital tools such as health apps to reach young people seeking confidential guidance.
Meanwhile, TASO’s drama group, composed largely of people living with HIV, continues to perform in fishing communities, truck-stop towns and other high-risk areas. Their storytelling carries a special authority because it comes directly from lived experience. When they discuss disclosure, treatment, or stigma, audiences listen.
Other community health projects still rely on forum theatre, an interactive form where actors pause mid-scene and allow audiences to suggest or act out alternatives to risky behaviour. This hands-on engagement helps people think through their choices and see the real-life consequences of everyday decisions.
The traditional stage may have lost crowds, but theatre itself remains alive, resilient and deeply relevant.
What needs to be done?
For theatre to reclaim its place in Uganda’s HIV response, it must embrace a hybrid identity; part traditional, part digital. Live performances still have unmatched emotional power, but they need to be supported by filmed versions that circulate online, allowing the message to spread long after the curtain falls.
There is also a need to reinvest in community-based theatre. Rural communities, fishing villages, truck-driver routes and high-density settlements still benefit immensely from drama because it brings information directly to them, in forms that feel familiar. Funding bodies and government agencies must recognise that theatre is not merely entertainment; it is a culturally rooted health communication tool that Uganda once used with extraordinary success.
Schools offer another opportunity. Reviving drama clubs and linking them to national HIV-awareness programmes could create spaces where young people learn through storytelling, role-play and performance, methods proven to transform attitudes and behaviour.
At the artistic level, young playwrights need mentorship to craft stories that reflect today’s realities: relationships in the age of social media, HIV prevention technologies such as PrEP, treatment adherence, mental health, and the subtle forms of stigma that still shape lives.
To sustain all this work, monitoring and evaluation should be incorporated into theatre-based interventions. Demonstrating measurable impact, whether through increased testing, better understanding or reduced stigma, helps attract donors and gives theatre renewed legitimacy as a public health tool.
A stage worth returning to
Ugandan theatre once helped the country navigate one of the darkest chapters in its history. It educated, warned, comforted and empowered communities when medical knowledge was still scarce. Although the spotlight has shifted, the power of storytelling remains intact.
Theatre can rise again, not by returning to the past, but by blending its emotional strength with modern platforms and fresh narratives. As the nation continues to fight stigma, treatment fatigue and new infections among young people, drama can once again become a voice of truth and healing.
The stage is still there. The stories are still needed. And Uganda, with its rich artistic heritage, can once again let theatre lead the way.