By Bazio Doreen

For a woman selling charcoal in a market in West Nile, a bag of charcoal can mean the difference between putting food on the table and going to bed worried about what her family will eat. For another, it is the only affordable fuel she can use to prepare a meal for her children.

Now, as Uganda tightens its efforts to protect forests, women who depend on charcoal for their livelihoods or household cooking face an uncertain future. The question is not whether Uganda should conserve its forests, but how it can do so without pushing already struggling families deeper into hardship.

The debate over Uganda’s charcoal restrictions is about more than trees and environmental protection. It is also about women’s economic security, the cost of cooking a meal and whether those most affected by environmental policies have realistic alternatives.

On October 14th, 2026, Parliament directed a suspension of enforcement of the existing charcoal trade restrictions pending a government statement on the availability of alternative energy sources. The restrictions, introduced under the 2023 Presidential Executive Order No. 3, have affected northern Uganda, including West Nile.

The environmental concerns behind these measures are significant. Uganda loses an estimated 72,000 hectares of forest annually, according to figures cited in the country’s Energy Transition Plan. Charcoal production contributes to pressure on forest resources, making sustainable alternatives increasingly urgent.

But while forests need protection, the women whose incomes depend on charcoal cannot simply abandon their businesses overnight. Nor can households switch to cleaner cooking fuels if those fuels remain beyond their means.

When a bag of charcoal becomes a financial loss.

The economic consequences of the restrictions became clear in October 2026, when traders operating around the Uganda–South Sudan border reported that more than 172 dealers had over 90,000 bags of charcoal, valued at UGX 2.4 billion, stranded amid enforcement.

Behind these figures are traders who may have borrowed money to purchase stock, families that depend on daily sales and small businesses struggling to recover their investments.

For women operating on limited capital, losing access to a market can have consequences far beyond the immediate value of unsold charcoal. Income may disappear, debts may remain unpaid, and money set aside for school fees, food or rent may have to be redirected.

The same uncertainty affects households that rely on charcoal for cooking. When supplies become harder to access or prices rise, families with limited incomes have few options. Some may spend a larger share of their earnings on fuel, leaving less for other necessities.

These are the realities that must be considered alongside the environmental benefits of restricting charcoal production and trade.

A policy designed to protect forests should also consider what happens to the people whose livelihoods depend on the activities being restricted.

Refugee women face an additional burden.

For refugee women in West Nile, the challenge is even more complicated. Many already struggle to access affordable cooking fuel, and restrictions on charcoal can add to the pressure of finding alternatives in an environment where firewood is also becoming harder to obtain.

A December 2025 study in Rhino and Imvepi refugee settlements found that 59 per cent of refugee households used charcoal, compared with 40 per cent of host-community households. Firewood remained the dominant cooking fuel, used by 97 per cent of refugee households. The study also found that refugee women and children faced greater difficulties collecting firewood.

These figures reveal a difficult reality: even where charcoal is widely used, many refugee households continue to depend on firewood, placing additional demands on women and children responsible for collecting it.

For a refugee mother in Adjumani, finding enough fuel to prepare the family’s next meal may mean travelling farther from home, spending hours searching for firewood or using money that was meant for food and other essentials.

Longer journeys to collect firewood can also expose women and girls to protection risks, including sexual and gender-based violence. The pressure extends beyond individual households, as competition over scarce wood resources can strain relationships between refugees and neighbouring host communities.

Without affordable and accessible alternatives, charcoal restrictions could deepen these existing challenges.

Government, the Office of the Prime Minister, UNHCR and humanitarian partners therefore need to ensure that clean-cooking initiatives reach both refugee and host-community households. Women should not be left to bear the cost of environmental protection simply because they have fewer resources to adapt.

Protecting forests and protecting vulnerable communities are not competing goals. With the right support, both can be achieved.

The question is what replaces charcoal.

The challenge extends beyond West Nile. Research highlighted by Uganda’s Economic Policy Research Centre in April 2026 found that 48.6 per cent of urban households relied on charcoal as their main cooking fuel, rising to 70.6 per cent in Kampala.

Although these figures relate to urban households nationally rather than West Nile specifically, they illustrate the wider dependence on charcoal and the scale of the transition required.

For women in West Nile, however, the issue is immediate and practical: if charcoal becomes unavailable or unaffordable, what will they use instead?

Cleaner cooking options, including improved cook stoves, electricity, biogas and other sustainable fuels, may offer alternatives. But their usefulness depends on whether households can afford them, whether supplies are reliable and whether the technologies suit local cooking practices.

An alternative that exists on paper but remains too expensive for an ordinary household does little to solve the problem.

The same applies to women traders. Encouraging them to abandon charcoal sales without helping them establish alternative businesses risks transferring the cost of conservation to people who may have contributed little to the decisions shaping the transition.

Support could include affordable access to cleaner cooking technologies, practical training, start-up financing and assistance to women who want to diversify into other income-generating activities. Such measures would help make the transition a realistic economic opportunity rather than an additional burden.

Women must have a voice in the transition.

A fair transition requires more than announcing restrictions and expecting communities to adjust. Women who sell charcoal, prepare meals using traditional fuels and collect firewood should be involved in decisions about how the policy is implemented.

Their experiences can help authorities identify which alternatives are affordable, which communities are most affected and what support is needed to prevent households from falling further into hardship.

Social accountability also demands clear answers from the responsible authorities.

What affordable cooking alternatives are currently reaching women in West Nile? What assistance is available to traders whose businesses have been affected by the restrictions? How are refugee and host-community households being supported to access sustainable cooking fuels? And what evidence is available to show that the measures are reducing forest loss?

Authorities should also publish clear information on implementation, available support and the environmental results achieved. Transparent reporting would help communities understand the policy, assess its impact and hold responsible institutions accountable for their commitments.

These questions are not an argument against forest conservation. They are a call to ensure that environmental policies are practical, transparent and responsive to the people expected to live with their consequences.

Conservation should not come at the cost of survival

Uganda faces a genuine challenge: protecting its forests while meeting the energy needs of a growing population. There is no simple solution, and continuing dependence on unsustainable charcoal production carries environmental costs that cannot be ignored.

But the transition must recognize that women are not merely beneficiaries of environmental policy. They are traders, entrepreneurs, caregivers and household decision-makers whose livelihoods and daily responsibilities are directly affected by changes in the energy sector.

For a woman whose charcoal business pays her children’s school fees, conservation must come with a credible path to another source of income. For a refugee mother who struggles to find enough fuel to cook, it must mean access to an affordable and reliable alternative.

Uganda can protect its forests while safeguarding women’s economic security, but achieving both requires more than restrictions. It requires investment in clean cooking, support for affected traders, meaningful community participation and accountability for results.

Women should not have to choose between protecting the environment and feeding their families. A fair transition is one in which forests are protected, livelihoods are strengthened and no woman is left to carry the burden alone.

END.