The World Bank Group has resumed lending to Uganda.

The bank in 2023 suspended new loans to the African country after President Yoweri Museveni signed the Anti-Homosexuality Act, which contains a death penalty provision for “aggravated homosexuality.” Reuters reported the bank decided to resume lending on June 5.

“We have now determined the mitigation measures rolled out over the last several months in all ongoing projects in Uganda to be satisfactory,” a bank spokesperson told Reuters in an email. “Consequently, the bank has prepared three new projects in sectors with significant development needs – social protection, education, and forced displacement/refugees – which have been approved by the board.”

Activists had urged the bank not to resume loans to Uganda.

Richard Lusimbo, director general of the Uganda Key Population Consortium, last September described the “so-called ‘mitigation measures’ are a façade, designed to provide the illusion of protection.”

“They rely on perpetrators of discrimination — the government of Uganda — to implement the measures fairly,” said Lusimbo. “How can they be taken seriously?” 

Achen, not her real name, is a soft-spoken 26-year-old from northern Uganda. She never imagined she would run a business, let alone one that would allow her to earn enough to send her younger sister to school. For years, she moved from shelter to shelter, surviving day by day, evicted from rental rooms, beaten on the street, and regularly denied healthcare simply for being a transgender woman.

When Uganda passed the Anti-Homosexuality Act in 2023, along with other trans persons, Achen’s fragile life collapsed further. Fear intensified, support systems buckled, and donor-funded safe spaces that once offered her hope shuttered under a wave of foreign aid suspensions. Her voice, already timid, nearly disappeared altogether.

Achen is one of transgender and gender diverse persons who have found a lifeline through the Trans Resilience and Economic Empowerment (TREE) a bold initiative by Tranz Network Uganda that has been running since 2020. Designed as an integrated support economic empowerment platform in the face of both institutional hostility and global donor shifts, TREE is one of the few initiatives/ strategies still standing amid Uganda’s increasingly restrictive environment. 

At a time when the LGBTQ+ movement in Uganda is grappling with an unprecedented dual crisis — legal persecution at home and donor withdrawal abroad — this initiative is a timely intervention to restore agency and dignity through livelihoods. Funded modestly through a patchwork of partner organizations, TREE delivers skills training, seed capital, mentorship with health services linkage/referral to trans and gender diverse people navigating the harsh realities of criminalization and economic exclusion.

Since it began, TREE has supported trans-led businesses across Uganda’s towns and cities, from Kampala to Mbarara, Lugazi to Mbale. Groups have been trained in financial literacy and record-keeping, received smartphones to enable digital transactions, and built networks of savings and credit through Village Savings and Loan Associations while creating a safe space and linkage to health services like HIV test and counseling and gender violence services. Trans-led businesses in piggery, tailoring, catering, vending, and crafts have emerged not just as sources of income but as community hubs. 

Some beneficiaries have gone on to earn certificates in accounting and financial management. Others have used their new income to rent safe housing, restart school, or reenter HIV treatment. Emergency assistance has been extended to community members facing eviction or violence, including access to medical care, relocation support, and GBV counseling. These interventions have created a ripple effect that is difficult to quantify but undeniable to those living it. One project beneficiary described TREE as “not just money, but a second chance.”

Economic marginalization has long been wielded as a weapon of control against transgender communities. Trans and gender diverse persons in Uganda are systematically excluded from the formal labor market due to discriminatory hiring practices, lack of legal recognition on IDs, and pervasive social stigma. Many are pushed into unstable, informal sectors like sex work, which not only expose them to health risks but also legal vulnerability under vague morality clauses in the law. 

In rural areas, where surveillance and stigma are even more pronounced, trans and gender diverse persons report being blacklisted from community savings groups, denied land access, and forcibly outed when seeking credit or medical attention. With nowhere else to turn, many live in cycles of poverty, dependent on shrinking NGO safety nets that were already under strain even before U.S. foreign aid cuts triggered widespread closures.

The 2025 executive order(s) issued by President Donald Trump, which halted 83 percent of USAID programs, acted like a wrecking ball through Uganda’s LGBTQ+ support ecosystem. Despite waivers allowing continued funding for basic HIV and tuberculosis treatment, the cuts included a freeze on programs that offered diversity and inclusion services. Shelters closed, staff were laid off, mental health services evaporated, and peer-led HIV prevention programs vanished. As access points to HIV testing and treatment diminished, stigma deepened. Several community members who previously accessed PrEP, lubricants, and condoms through drop-in centers began reporting new infections or treatment interruptions. In these conditions, economic resilience isn’t just about income — it’s about survival.

Williams Apako, executive director of Tranz Network Uganda, says the TREE initiative is about putting power back into the hands of trans people by recognizing that economic agency is foundational to every other form of empowerment, including health. 

“You can’t ask someone to adhere to HIV treatment or avoid risky behavior when they’re hungry, homeless, or too afraid to walk to a clinic,” he says. “This strategy is about reframing resilience not as endurance but as self-determination. Each cycle has adapted to what our communities are facing. When people lose shelter, we help them find footing again. When businesses collapse due to legal attacks, we help them pivot. The ability to make money on your own terms means you can walk away from violence, from unsafe sex, from dependence.”

Afiya, not her real name, is a 22-year-old trans woman in Lugazi. She turned to TREE after being kicked out by her family and missing her antiretroviral medication for weeks. 

“They helped me get back into care quietly,” she says. “But also, I now braid hair from home and have customers who love my work. I have my own money now. It’s not much, but it’s mine.”

TREE-supported organizations, whose names have been withheld to protect participants, have trained dozens of trans persons in tailoring, hairdressing, catering, piggery, and crafts. Others are piloting mobile vending and delivery services in areas where visibility is dangerous. The project does more than provide capital. It helps beneficiaries establish business registration, form cooperatives, and, where possible, partner with sympathetic local leaders to create safer work environments while still accessing critical reproductive health services. In one region, a local health center has agreed to integrate HIV services with the TREE enterprise hub, providing discreet access to ARVs and counseling without requiring individuals to self-identify as LGBTQ+.

Hakim, not his real name, shares his journey with honesty and strength.

“As if life wasn’t already challenging enough as a trans person, I was also broke. I wanted to do something that would help me earn a living without having to depend on anyone. I’ve always had an entrepreneurial mindset, but back then, I didn’t know where to begin. I took a leap of faith and got a loan from the SACCO (Savings and Credit Cooperative Organization),, which I invested in a sisal sponge business. It took time, but it paid off. With my own hands, I’ve managed to repay the loan and sustain myself. That’s something I’m really proud of.” 

What makes the TREE project stand out is its decentralized design. Rather than imposing a single model, it tailors support to each organization’s strengths and the local risks they face. Some groups have chosen to stay low-profile, operating income-generating activities from private homes. Others have gone semi-public, advocating for inclusive budgeting from district councils. In either case, the project positions trans persons not as passive recipients of aid, but as innovators, workers, and citizens. Several beneficiaries reported, for the first time in their lives, being able to make a financial decision without external approval. One said simply, “I paid my rent without begging. That was new for me.”

Yet even as TREE offers a glimpse of hope, Apako is realistic about its scale and limits. 

“This is not a replacement for healthcare or human rights protections,” he says. “Economic empowerment can’t thrive in a vacuum. We need international solidarity, we need political pressure on the Ugandan government to respect human dignity, and we need donors, including private foundations, to rethink how they fund resilience in hostile contexts.” He notes that several TREE partners are already overwhelmed with requests for support that they cannot meet.

Uganda’s HIV strategy, guided by the Uganda AIDS Commission and supported in part by global actors like UNAIDS and the Global Fund, risks losing its effectiveness if it continues to marginalize or exclude key populations. The rollback of targeted, inclusive programs will not only lead to higher transmission rates but also undermine decades of progress in public health. TREE, though small and other supporting programming and strategies in solidarity with LGBTQI+ communities in Uganda, reminds us that solutions must center the people most affected. In a moment when rhetoric is high and funding is low, this project speaks the language of possibility.

For Achen and others, the transformation has been quiet but profound. She now runs a small catering stall with two other trans women. She no longer sleeps with one eye open, waiting for a landlord to bang on her door. When asked what she would tell other trans persons scared of being visible or starting over, she says, “Even in fear, we can plant something small. And from that, we live.”

Williams Apako is the executive officer of the Tranz Network Uganda and a board member of the Global Fund’s Uganda Country Coordinating Mechanism.

As mpox cases continue to surge in Uganda, LGBTQ rights organizations have raised concerns over its “troubling increase” among the queer community and have advised it to be on high alert.  

The Uganda Key Populations Consortium, an LGBTQ rights organization, working closely with the Health Ministry and Kampala Capital City Authority and other government bodies to stem the spread of mpox, has warned that queer people in semi-urban areas are the most affected.   

“These communities have expressed valid concerns regarding stigma and discrimination which may deter individuals from seeking necessary medical attention,” UKPC Director General Richard Lusimbo said.  

Uganda has recorded 512 new mpox cases in the last two weeks, bringing the total number of cases to 2,127 and 12 deaths, as the Health Ministry confirmed on Tuesday. The World Health Organization’s latest multi-country report on the mpox outbreak, released on Jan. 11, indicates that Uganda has recorded 1,552 cases and 12 deaths since the disease was first reported last July..      

The WHO report places the capital Kampala with the highest number of mpox diseases spread through community transmission with an infection incidence of 45 cases per 100,000 people, followed by the Wakiso and Nakasongola districts.

“Cases have been reported in at least 49 percent (71 out of 146) of districts in the country, but the epidemic remains largely concentrated in and around Kampala,” the WHO report reads. “So far, only clade Ib MPXV, linked to the outbreak in the eastern Democratic Republic of the Congo, has been detected in the country, and current evidence indicates that transmission of the virus is occurring exclusively through close, physical human-to-human contact.” 

People between 20-29 are the most affected group, with sexual contact as a major mode of transmission among sex workers and men who have sex with men.

The UKPC has issued an urgent health advisory to the queer community as it collaborates with the Health Ministry and KCCA in responding to the mpox transmission through immediate and long-term actions, including integrating its response with ongoing HIV prevention and care strategies. 

Lusimbo, whose organization has also partnered with WHO and the Most At Risk Populations Initiative, a local health NGO, to stem the spread of mpox stated a unified preventive approach that is inclusive and effective is vital for the health and safety of all Ugandans.   

“The fear of stigma and discrimination can exacerbate the situation by hindering effective response and treatment efforts,” Lusimbo said. 

He noted that the fight against mpox in Uganda is not just limited to managing a health crisis. It also offers the queer community an opportunity to advocate for the rights and dignity of the marginalized groups. 

The UKPC last week unveiled an online survey on the mpox epidemic targeting queer people in Uganda to reliably understand its impact on them and their knowledge about the disease. 

“Mpox continues to disproportionately affect mostly our community, especially female sex workers and their clients, and men who have sex with men,” the survey reads. “As the national secretariat and coordinating body for key populations, UKPC, in partnership with KCCA, has been leading important discussions on the disease’s public health implications in areas where the impact is most notable.”

The report states the survey data will help develop tailored, inclusive, and equitable interventions for the LGBTQ community. The survey also seeks to provide specific numbers of queer people who have contracted mpox and those who have died from the disease.

Uganda Minority Shelters Consortium Coordinator John Grace attributed the lack of data about queer people affected by mpox to privacy concerns, stigma, and discrimination against the community by the homophobic public and state authorities tasked with enforcing anti-homosexuality laws. He said the Anti-Homosexuality Law has created a significant barrier for queer people to report such abuses.

“This makes it difficult to ascertain the true extent of stigma and discrimination or the impact of misinformation about transmission methods,” Grace said.  

Grace also noted the collaboration between LGBTQ organizations and healthcare providers in tackling mpox has been “inconsistent.” 

“While some providers have been welcoming and supportive, others demonstrate a lack of awareness or sensitivity regarding the specific needs of the LGBTQ+ community,” he said.

Despite the homophobic climate in Uganda amid the fight against mpox, Grace noted many LGBTQ organizations have proactively disseminated accurate information to educate queer people about the disease’s prevention within their communities through educational campaigns and safer sex practices.