A familiar and heartbreaking scene unfolds across Uganda every week—in courts, local council offices and family compounds. A husband dies, and within days of his burial, his widow finds herself fighting to remain on the land she has cultivated for years. She has raised children there, built a home and contributed to the family’s livelihood. Yet, without a land title, letters of administration or legal representation, she watches helplessly as in-laws move to claim the property. Her greatest asset is a lifetime of unrecognised contribution; her greatest obstacle is a legal system she cannot easily access.
Debates about women’s land rights in Uganda often centre on perceived gaps in the law. In reality, the country has one of the more progressive legal frameworks on the continent. The Constitution guarantees equality and the right to own property. The Land Act strengthens those protections through Section 40, which requires spousal consent before any transaction involving family land. More recently, the Succession (Amendment) Act, 2022, introduced important safeguards by protecting the principal residential home, making it unlawful for a widow to be evicted from her matrimonial home by members of the deceased husband’s family.
Yet these legal protections have not translated into security for many women.
Across much of Uganda, law is often overshadowed by custom. Nearly 80 per cent of the country’s land is held under customary tenure, much of it unregistered and governed by unwritten cultural norms rather than formal legal documentation. Although Section 27 of the Land Act invalidates customary practices that discriminate against women and children, patriarchal traditions continue to determine who controls land after the death of a husband.
For many widows, their right to occupy or use family land exists more as a social understanding than a legally enforceable claim. Ownership remains largely vested in men, while women’s decades of labour, investment and care rarely translate into recognised property rights.
The challenge today is therefore not simply the absence of good laws. It is the failure to enforce them consistently and to ensure that women know, understand and can access the protections available to them. A legal right that is unknown, unaffordable or impossible to enforce offers little comfort to a widow facing eviction.
Bridging this gap requires a shift in both legal practice and public awareness.
One often-overlooked avenue lies in the Domestic Violence Act. While many associate the law with physical abuse, it also recognises economic abuse, including the unlawful denial of access to a shared home or property. Where a widow is threatened with eviction or deprived of her lawful occupation of matrimonial land, the Act provides legal remedies that can offer immediate protection.
At the same time, legal empowerment must extend beyond courtrooms. Many land disputes begin and end before Local Council courts, clan leaders and traditional authorities. These institutions are often the first point of contact for grieving families, making them critical actors in protecting women’s rights. Equipping them with a better understanding of Uganda’s land and succession laws would significantly reduce unlawful evictions and discriminatory decisions.
Equally important is documentation. Families should be encouraged to register land, prepare wills and jointly document ownership where possible. Such measures reduce uncertainty after death and minimise the disputes that so often leave widows vulnerable.
Government institutions, civil society organisations, religious leaders and cultural institutions all have a role to play in ensuring that legal protections move beyond statute books and become part of everyday practice. Public legal education, accessible legal aid services and stronger enforcement mechanisms are essential if the law promises to become a lived reality.
Women’s land rights are not simply a matter of property ownership. They are about dignity, economic security, food production and social justice. When women lose access to land, entire families suffer. Children lose stability, household incomes decline, and communities become more vulnerable to poverty.
Uganda has already laid a strong legal foundation. The task before us is to ensure that these protections reach the women they were designed to serve. The true measure of our laws is not how progressive they appear on paper, but whether they protect the most vulnerable when they need them most.
Only when no widow fears losing her home after burying her husband will we be able to say that justice has truly taken root.
By Sheila Catherine Abamu
The writer is a legal manager at KCB Bank.
