The morning sun burns through the dusty roadside of Bulindo and Kitukutwe, falling on broken timber, bent iron sheets and torn tarpaulins scattered where small kiosks once stood.
A place that was once filled with the smell of frying chapati, boiling tea, laughter from customers and women calling out prices has now fallen painfully silent.
Under the scorching heat, Mama Vanessa carefully spreads a sack on the ground and arranges a few tomatoes, onions and packets of salt beside the road. Vehicles pass by without stopping. Dust from the construction of the road settles on her items as she wipes sweat from her face and stares at the empty space where her kiosk once stood.
“People no longer buy my items because everything is now in the sun,” she says softly, her voice heavy with exhaustion. “Before the kiosk was demolished, I could get money for school fees for my children and grandchildren. But now there is absolutely nothing.”
For years, Mama Vanessa’s kiosk in Bulindo was more than just a business, it was survival. The small wooden structure fed her family, paid rent, bought food and helped her raise children and grandchildren.
“I started this business with Shs 75,000 because I wanted to help my family and stop depending on people. I was tired of begging relatives. Some of them even stopped talking to me because I was always begging for money as though I didn’t have hands to work,” she said.
“Over time, the business started growing and I would make sales of like Shs 250,000 on a good day. I was paying rent and most of the house bills, my children and grandchildren had food to eat every single day,” she added.
Mama Vanessa says life before the demolition of her kiosk was moving well and customers came daily and business kept growing.
“Even if challenges came, I could survive.” she says. “I had regular customers and I could save some money little by little with confidence that we shall survive for the coming two weeks.”
Like many low-income earners across Uganda, Mama Vanessa slowly built her kiosk from daily sales and small savings. But all that changed when the government ordered local authorities to demolish roadside structures and kiosks built along road reserves.
What authorities described as restoring order and enforcing urban planning regulations has left many traders in Bulindo and Kitukutwe in Kira Division, Wakiso District struggling with hunger, debt, and an uncertain future. Many affected traders say they were not given clear guidance, compensation or alternative places to continue their businesses.
Among them is Atuhaire, popularly known around the area as “Mukiga.” Her kiosk once sold household items and small groceries to residents in the area. Standing beside pieces of timber she managed to collect after the demolition, Atuhaire recalls the years she spent building her business after saving Shs 2 million.
“I used almost all my savings to set up that kiosk,” she says painfully with tears in her eyes. “The money that I put into the business has gone to a total loss.”
According to Atuhaire, the business had become important not only to her family but also to the surrounding community. “People around here used to buy sugar, soap, bread and other things from me every day,” she explains. “Even nearby businesses benefited because we supported each other.”
Before the demolition, she says the kiosk helped her pay school fees and repay loans but also support her husband who lost his job months ago. “Now there is no work, no job for me anymore, yet the loans have to be paid,” she says.
Her voice shakes when she talks about her children. “There is no school fees for children and yet they have to go back to school very soon,” she cried.
Atuhaire says the day the structures were removed remains painful in her memory. “They (men representing the government) just came and started demolishing,” she recalls. “We tried begging them, but there was nothing we could do.” She says no support was given to affected traders after the demolitions. “No one helped us. We were simply told to leave,” she says.
Before the demolitions, life in Bulindo and Kitukutwe followed a rhythm familiar to roadside communities. Women swept around their kiosks every morning as charcoal stoves crackled to life. Chapati sellers prepared dough before sunrise while customers stopped by for tea, snacks, vegetables, mobile money and quick meals on their way to work.
The kiosks were small, but together they formed the heartbeat of the community.
These demolished kiosks formed part of the micro and small medium enterprises of Uganda. According to the ministry of Finance, Planning and Economic Development, “Micro, Small, and Medium Enterprises (MSMEs) form the backbone of the entrepreneurial ecosystem, contributing significantly to employment, productivity, and competitiveness. MSMEs employ over 2.5 million people (UBOS 2021) and generate 80 per cent of manufactured output which contributes 20 per cent to the Gross Domestic Product.”
Patricia Nalubega, who sold potato fries by the roadside, says her business had slowly helped her become independent, afford rent and send some money back home in her village.
“President Museveni told us to work hard and support our homes,” she says. “That is exactly what I was trying to do but look, I lost everything. I am worried that my landlord will start demanding for rent or even chase me out of the house,” she said.
Nalubega explains that she started her business with about Shs 300,000 after realizing she needed a way to survive and look after her family in the village.
“Business was not perfect, but at least I could earn something every day. Right now, I am stuck I cannot go back to the village. Honestly President Museveni should come to our rescue,” she says, the frustration visible on her face.
Nalubega says the demolitions have pushed many women into desperate situations like she thought of doing as well. “There are some ladies who have now resorted to prostitution just to get something to eat,” she says quietly. “Life has become too hard.”
Nalubega says the demolitions have affected not only traders but also customers in the community.
“People used to depend on these kiosks every day,” she explains. “Now some have to move long distances just to buy simple things.”
Nalubega believes the government should create permanent markets for affected traders instead of simply destroying their sources of income. “We want permanent markets where we can all work again,” she says.
For Douglas, a chapati seller in Kitukutwe, the demolition shattered years of hard work within hours. Every evening before the demolitions, Douglas would light his charcoal stove as customers gathered around his kiosk for fresh chapati and tea. The business helped him survive and support himself despite the difficult economy.
Douglas explains that over time, his small business became stable and helped him meet daily needs.
“I could at least get money for food, rent, and other responsibilities,” he says.
Today, only memories remain. Douglas says he lost both business property and daily income.
“Some things were destroyed during the demolition, and others got lost in the confusion,” he explains.
Renting in a building is impossible because of the high costs.
“Renting a building is very expensive for me because I don’t have that kind of money,” he says.
Like many other traders, Douglas now operates in fear.
“Sometimes I come back and put my small stall there secretly,” he says. “When I hear that the council is coming, I have to scatter.”
He says many traders feel abandoned and confused. “We want to be sensitized and understand what is happening and how we can be helped,” Douglas says. “Otherwise, businesses are being destroyed. We are in total losses.”
For some traders, the demolitions affected more than business alone. A local resident Musa says several people were actually living inside the kiosks that were demolished. “Some of them were having kiosks and living inside them,” he says. “Now they are homeless and some had to go back to the village.”
Musa explains that the kiosks had become both workplaces and shelters for struggling traders trying to survive near town. “While they were working, they would also have somewhere to sleep at night,” he adds.
As road construction continues and dust rises over the busy roadside in Bulindo and Kitukutwe, the remains of broken stalls stand as painful reminders of interrupted lives and uncertain futures.
To authorities, the demolitions may represent order, urban planning and enforcement of regulations. But to the traders who once depended on these roadside businesses, the demolitions represent something far more personal like lost dreams, hungry children, unpaid loans, homelessness and the painful question of how to begin again when everything they depended on has been taken away.